Page 65 of The Killing Plains

In her peripheral vision, she saw Russ look hastily her way. “Nah. I was going to tell you—Sam and Alan Sandleford lawyered up. Station got a hand-delivered letter from their attorney an hour ago.”

Colly leaned against the window, pressing the cold pack to her head. “Didn’t waste time, did they?”

“Go ahead, say it.”

“I told you so.”

“Those boys didn’t murder Denny.”

“Then why’d they lawyer up?”

“Probably their old man’s idea. Sam and Alan were in diapers when Adam Parker was killed.”

Despite her sunglasses, the hazy glare was making Colly’s head ache. The air felt sticky and warm. She rolled down her window. “They still could’ve killed Denny.”

“But Adam’s killer’s the only one who knew about the rabbit mask.”

“Some killers brag. Whoever murdered Adam might’ve told the Sandlefords. I don’t see how we can rule out a copycat situation.”

Russ turned south onto Whiskey Creek Road. “We went over this yesterday. Do you know how hard it is to keep a secret around here? If you tell anyone other than your priest or your lawyer, you might as well post it online. And the Sandlefords aren’t famous fordiscretion. There’s only one way to keep something this big under wraps for twenty years.”

“Shoot, shovel, and shut up?”

“Exactly. This killer’s stone-cold. Sam and Alan have gone too far with a prank, now and then, but nothing worse.” Russ braked at a red light behind a roughly idling pickup.

“Would they consider anonymous texts a prank?” Colly pulled out her phone and handed it to Russ.

He cast a cursory glance at the screen, and his face darkened with disgust.

“It came while I was talking to Satchel’s teacher.”

“Hell.” Russ handed the phone back. “I doubt it’s the Sandlefords—more likely Jace Hoyer. We’ll try tracing it.”

“Probably a burner.”

“We’ll find out where it was bought, at least. I’ll get Edna started on the paperwork.”

Russ called the station and rattled off instructions. When the light turned, he hung up, dropping his phone into the cup holder as the truck in front of them roared away in a cloud of diesel exhaust.

Colly coughed and rolled up the window. “Linking Jace to the phone might support harassment, but not murder.”

“It’d be a hell of a red flag, though. Jace wants you out of here—why else would he plant that snake?”

“Maybe he didn’t. The video’s circumstantial, at best.”

“It looks bad. He’d know how to make those masks. Plus, he’s got a motive for killing Denny, and no alibi. Now he’s skipped town. Men have gone to prison on a lot less.”

“It’s not proof. You think Jace murdered Adam, too? How old would he have been in ’98—fifteen? Sixteen?”

“Old enough to kill.”

“If the two of them ever met. Avery didn’t mention it.”

“She was a kid. She might not have known.” Russ glanced at Colly. “The pieces fit, don’t they? Why are you pushing back so hard?”

Because I know what can happen when detectives cut corners, Colly thought bitterly.You’re tossing a stone in the water with no idea where the ripples might go.

“Think about the crime scenes, Russ. They’re staged, almost playful. Those masks were meant to taunt us, like a twisted little ‘catch me if you can’ game. I think we’re looking for someone emotionally controlled, maybe well-educated. Does that sound like Hoyer? If he murdered—” Colly stopped. Her head was pounding, and the smell of diesel exhaust was making her sick. She took a breath, exhaling slowly.

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