Page 36 of Blood Moon

“Castle doctrine. And it’s not a defense unless there’s been forcible entry.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to test it on Bowie and his Glock.”

Tom pulled on his lower lip, wishing his wife would stop with the damn humming. It was a stupid song, and she was off key. It was distracting, and he was trying to work through this puzzle. “He’s mentioned a dog. Doesn’t he have a dog?”

“Don’t know, but none barked.”

“This makes no sense,” Tom hissed. “His car was there.”

“Maybe he had another means of transportation.”

“The TSA guy told me she turned in her rental. The DMV has only one vehicle registered to John Preston Bowie.” Supremely frustrated, Tom ran his hand over his thinning hair. “If you didn’t think they were in there, why were you afraid of getting shot? You should’ve searched the place.”

Again, Frank sighed heavily. “I waited there by his car for several minutes. Didn’t hear a sound from inside, so I dutifully made a three-sixty around the house and looked in every window. The house is small. Not many rooms or places to hide. In the bedroom was a bed. Nobody fucking on it.” He snorted. “Which I would’ve paid to watch.”

Tom was beside himself. “I wanted to nip this in the bud, scare him into humility and compliance,today, before he had time to think about defying me. I wanted to have this donewith before all the hubbub over that damn show begins. Uppermost, I didn’t want him talking to that woman.”

Calls to the network offices in New York had confirmed that Beth Collins was a senior-level producer. But she hadn’t made the trip from the Big Apple to interviewhim. No, she’d come to talk specifically to Detective Bowie. And Bowie had gone to extremes this morning to keep her in town.

Regardless of the ogre’s belief that they were only hooking up for sex, Tom’s conclusion was that whatever they were doing together had the potential for being calamitous to him. Where the hell could they be? “People don’t just disappear.”

He didn’t realize he’d spoken his thought aloud until Frank laughed in that nasty way he had and smacked his chewing gum. “Isn’t that what Bowie kept telling you? Over and over like a broken record. ‘People don’t disappear. Bodies don’t disappear. That girl is somewhere, Tom.’ That’s when you started hating him.”

“I’d started hating him long before that,” Tom mumbled.

“Hon-ey.” He turned to see his wife standing in the open doorway holding a glass of wine and pouting.

He made himself look regretful. “Sorry, babe. One minute.”

She huffed, held up her index finger and mouthedone, and left.

He went back to Frank. “Was his backyard fenced?”

“Yeah, completely ringed in. By awilderness. On the back side of the house I could barely see my hand in front of my face, but I didn’t want to announce my presence with a flashlight. Neighbors aren’t that close, but someone might’ve seen me and told Bowie.”

“We don’t want him alerted.”

“What I thought.”

“All right,” Tom said. “Go back out there and—”

“Look, boss. I don’t like him, either, and I had just as soon have popped him tonight and used my charm on the woman till she cooperated. But I’m not driving all the way back out there tonight. I’m late for a poker game. French dip sandwiches and high stakes night. Let’s give it a rest and pick back up in the morning. Bowie will turn up. Okay?”

Without waiting for Tom’s consent, the ogre hung up on him. Tom disconnected and addressed his phone. “I hope your fat ass loses a wad.”

Chapter 10

Beth pushed away her empty bowl and linked her fingers across her midriff. “That was delicious. You did your grandma proud.”

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“What’s your secret?”

“The roux.”

“Would you give me the recipe?”

“Then it wouldn’t be a secret.”

---