Page 54 of Cruel Cravings

“We’re sorry to disturb you,” says Deputy Dudley, tipping his wide-brimmed hat. He gestures to the man beside him. “In case you don’t recognize him, this is Sheriff McGrath. He thought he would come along for this visit.”

“I’ve got to be honest, Deputy, I’m not sure why that would be necessary. I’m very busy and don’t have time for small talk.”

“This isn’t small talk,” he insists. “Jacqueline, I wanted you to know I’ve been in contact with the Klum family. They state they’re not currently renting their cabin to anyone, nor have they ever.”

I give a breezy laugh despite the way my heart does a flip. “That’s really weird. I went through a rental website and everything. I paid for the entire week. How else would I get the keys?” I dig into the front pocket of my jeans and dangle the set in front of them. “I guess it must’ve been some kind of scam. But that sounds like something you should probably take up with that company.”

Dudley’s brow creases and he places both hands on his waist. “A scam, huh?”

“Sounds like it to me. But no harm done. I was planning on leaving today anyway. I’ll be out of the Klums’s hair and I’ll definitely be reaching out to the scammers who took my money.”

“You plan on leaving? In that station wagon?”

“I’m already packed and ready to go, Deputy. Not that it’s any of your business.”

He tilts his head to the side, his gaze accusatory. “Interesting. Because we ran the plates on that bronze station wagon parked in the drive.”

Blood rushes to my head, leaving me dizzy. “You… you did?” I stammer. “Is there a problem?”

“There is. The plates—the entire vehicle—belong to Stanley Vedder.”

The words hit me like a hammer. For a second, I remain frozen, smiling like an idiot as the accusation hangs clear in the air.

But I committed to my story. I’ve made up my mind that I’m not going down without push back. I won’t give them what they want; they’re going to have to take it from me.

Force my hand once all options have been exhausted.

“Right,” I say, adding a laugh. “Of course it’s his car. He let me borrow it. He knew how badly I needed a car and mine has been in the shop. I told him about how I was on a cross-country trip to meet up with my sister and he took pity on me. He was kind enough to help under the condition I returned his car in the same state. I’m not the best driver—I curb check sometimes, ha ha—but I’ve been doing my best.”

Deputy Dudley and his boss exchange silent looks. Dudley drops any politeness from his tone, as though his patience is running out.

“You borrowed a car from a man who was murdered hours later? And you didn’t think to contact the authorities about it?”

I gasp. “Stanley’s been murdered? Oh my god, that’s terrible.”

“It’s been all over the news.”

“Background noise,” I say, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s so hard keeping up with current events that I don’t really pay much attention?—”

“You were one of the only guests checked into the Mariner’s Motel at the time of his death.”

“Is that a crime?”

“It’s not a crime, but murder sure is,” Dudley snaps. “Whether you realize it or not, Ms. Hyde, that makes you part of a homicide investigation.”

“Then I guess I better get in touch with my lawyer. How about I have him call you? If that’s all, officers, then I’d like to get back to my day. Like I mentioned, I’m hitting the road. I have to meet up with my sister.”

“Funny. You told me you were on a nature retreat.”

My smile falters, heat warming me up. “I can walk and chew gum at the same time, Deputy. I’ve been on a nature retreat and now I’m about to meet up with my sister. That isn’t a crime either.”

“Curious,” says Sheriff McGrath, speaking for the first time in what’s a twang that sounds cold and aloof to the ears. “I’d like to know one thing, Ms. Hyde. Do you mind explaining why, when we ran the name Jacqueline Hyde in the system, we found no record to show she existed?”

“Jacqueline is my middle name.”

“You have no middle name,” he says matter-of-factly. His mirrored aviator glasses flash my reflection back at me, showing a woman crumbling apart by the second. “That would be because your real name is Jael Hendrix. Sister of Lyra Hendrix, one of the victims of the Cleaver.Andrecent patient at Brighter Days Psychiatric Hospital.”

Cracks formed, I shake my head. “That’s not?—”

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