Page 52 of The Killing Plains

Colly’s mind drifted back to her conversation with Russ.Why are you letting Avery get under your skin? This isn’t like you.His words had stung, and that was irritating. He had no right to criticize. He didn’t know her—not really. In the past, their relationship had been fairly superficial, always mediated through Randy. Yet Russ’s opinion mattered more to Colly than she cared to admit.

Was she being unreasonable? Colly pushed the question reflexively away. She couldn’t afford the luxury of a psychological spelunking expedition. Russ was the unreasonable one, leveraging her guilt to bring her here, then saddling her with a sullen andheadstrong assistant. Was he subconsciously punishing her for his brother’s death? Colly took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.Trust your training—the rest is noise, she told herself. Getting to the truth was all that mattered. If Avery jeopardized that process, she would have to go, whether Russ liked it or not. It was as simple as that. Too much was at stake.

Colly’s head had begun to throb. She dug in her purse for her sunglasses but looked up when she heard footsteps on gravel. Avery approached, her eyes downcast and her face hot with embarrassment.

“Sorry I acted without your permission.”

Colly found her sunglasses and put them on. “From now on, you don’t do a thing unless I give the go-ahead.”

Avery glared at the ground. “Got it.”

“Good, let’s go. I want to talk to Denny’s folks.”

After a silent ten-minute drive, they pulled into Lonestar Estates, a seedy, sprawling mobile-home park on the east edge of town. Avery appeared to be familiar with the area, steering deftly through the labyrinth of narrow lanes without the aid of GPS or map.

“You’ve been here before?” Colly asked, but Avery said nothing. Colly tried again. “If Denny’s parents are friends of yours or something, tell me now.”

Avery shook her head. “We’ve been called out on a couple domestics at their place.” She hesitated. “And I used to live here.”

“In this park? When?”

“As a kid—with my dad.” Her hands tightened on the wheel. “After the fire.”

Avery parked the car in a patch of pea gravel beside a double-wide trailer. A row of dead chrysanthemums drooped in plastic potson the stoop, and the windows were covered with a thick layer of grime. When Colly got out of the car, a scruffy-looking cat that had been lying on the front steps vanished through a hole in the trailer’s metal skirting.

“No vehicles,” Avery said. “Maybe they’re not home.”

Colly knocked on the door without response. She turned to Avery. “You said Denny’s mom works nights and his stepdad’s unemployed?”

“Last I knew.”

They were descending the porch steps when a dented hatchback turned into the yard. The driver, a thin-faced woman, eyed them uncertainly. Finally, she killed the engine and climbed out, a bag of groceries in her arms. She appeared to be in her mid-fifties. Her face was lined and her hair streaked with gray. But as she drew closer, Colly realized that she was at least a decade younger than that, though the years had not been kind.

“Denny’s mom?” Colly whispered.

Avery shook her head. “I don’t know her, but I’ve seen her around.”

“Then you lead.”

The woman stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “Can I help you?”

Avery presented her badge and explained their purpose. “We need to talk to Jolene and Jace.”

The woman identified herself as Carmen Ortiz, Jolene Hoyer’s sister. “Jo’s probably still in bed. Give me a couple minutes—I’ll get her up.” She mounted the steps and dug a key from her pocket. “Jace is probably tinkering out back. You can check, if you want.”

Colly and Avery followed a pair of tire tracks around the trailer and through a weedy lot towards a prefab metal garage.

“Anything I need to know before we talk to this guy?” Colly asked.

“The Rangers looked into him. He had no alibi for the afternoon Denny died. But in the end, they ruled him out in favor of Willis.”

Two massive pit bulls slept in the dirt beneath a pecan tree next to the garage. They lifted their immense heads, then stood and walked to the end of their chains, growling. The garage door was open, and a cherry-red pickup fitted with all-terrain tires was backed partway inside, blocking most of the entrance. Colly noted mechanically that the truck, though filthy and mud-splattered, was an expensive one and fairly new. It seemed out of place amid the general air of seedy destitution that characterized the property.

“Hello,” Colly called.

When no one answered, she sidled through the gap between the truck and the doorframe. Avery followed. The interior of the garage was cool and comparatively dim, smelling of motor oil, sawdust, and something else—a familiar odor, earthy and sharp, that put Colly instantly on high alert. As her eyes adjusted, she became suddenly aware of a massive shape looming over her. She gasped and jumped back, reaching reflexively for her sidearm before she realized what she was seeing.

Avery rushed up, pistol in hand.

---