Page 12 of Off the Hook

“Got it.” He nodded, his smile fading, “You can call me Coulter.” His nostrils flared as he took in a deep breath. “It still smells like her.”

“And rotten tomato,” I said, my chin motioning toward the fruit flies circling the decaying half a tomato still on the cutting board on the kitchen counter.

“She must have just eaten. Kylie would have never left that out,” Coulter said. “She was compulsive about keeping things clean.”

I could see the neatness of Kylie’s personality. The apartment was exceptionally tidy. Other than some magazines and cards on the coffee table, and the lunch remnants on the counter and plate in the sink, it was immaculate.

“What drew her outside?” I wondered aloud, scanning the surroundings. Returning to the front door, I opened it and carefully examined the worn lock.The metal was weathered from the salty air. It was hard to tell if the tiny scratches around the keyhole were recent.

“Let me see that key.” I held out a hand.

Coulter handed it to me. The door was unlocked when Waylan entered. He locked it behind us when we left. But someone could have broken in. I opened the door and slid the key into the exterior keyhole. It caught but required aslight wiggle. That could be normal for an old lock, or it could be evidence that someone had tried to get in.

“Did it feel weird to you?” I asked.

“Weird?”

“The lock. Was it harder to open than usual?” I asked, squinting again at the scratches on the lock.

“It’s been years since I’ve opened it,” Coulter replied. “Plus, you were yelling at me and had your hand on your gun,” he said nervously. “But now that you mention it, I did have to jiggle it to get it to turn.”

I retrieved an evidence bag from my pocket and dropped the key in it. “Thanks.” I allowed my lips to turn in a hint of a smile. “You can call me Faith.”

“Alright, Faith,” Coulter said with a grin that made me regret suspending the formality. He was almost too charming for a first-name basis. His brow soon creased with concern as he looked around the room. “Do you think someone broke in?” I could tell he was thinking what I was… it sure didn’t look like it. But was he saying it to cover his own tracks?

“I don’t think anything yet,” I said, dusting my gloved hands on my trousers. “I’m just gathering evidence.”

“Well you know that key has my fingerprints on it fromtoday, right?” Coulter asked, obnoxiously.

“Yes, since you broke into the crime scene and tampered with the evidence.”

“I wasn't tampering with evidence! I was trying to figure out what happened to Kylie. There is zero chance that the Kylie I knew slipped and fell– anddrowned– in the canal she grew up on. Zero.” He shook his head adamantly.

“Accidents like this are always unexpected, Coulter. If it was an accident, it’s a complete shock to loved ones, 100% of the time.”

“Touché,” he said, dropping his head.

“At this point it’s still anybody’s guess,” I said, feeling somewhat sorry for him again. “Who knows? Maybe Kylie saw something on the dock and went to check. Or maybe she was leaning over to try to get something out of the water, lost her footing and fell in, hitting her head when she did. Any of those theories are feasible.”

He shook his head again, a dry chuckle escaping even though he clearly didn't find any of it funny. “Not for the Kylie I knew.”

“And here we are, back to the zero-versus-a-hundred argument. But that’s why I’m not in the business of guessing. I formulate theories based on evidence.”

His arms crossed over his broad chest. “So what’s your theory?”

I tilted my head, admitting, “I don’t have enough evidence to formulate one yet.” I gave him a firm look and tried to match it in my tone. “But collecting evidence is my job, Coulter, not yours. I let you stay here on the scene because I thought you might be able to offer a unique perspective, given your history with the victim and your familiarity with the scene.”

His shoulders drew back as he bristled, “Or… you were hoping I’d say something that would implicate me in Kylie’s death?”

He wasn’t just a pretty face after all. Of course I wanted to see how he reacted at the scene. But there was no point in putting him on edge now. “As I said, I am reserving judgmentuntil we have all the evidence. But you have to understand that you can’t be out here trying to solve this mystery on your own. Not only does it taint the scene, it also looks suspicious.”

His shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I woke up thinking that there is no way that Kylie just fell in the canal and drowned. I had to see for myself if there was anything that looked strange.”

“Finding you breaking into her apartment definitely looked strange.”

His hands raised apologetically. “I get it. I’m sorry.”

I shook my head, not trying to hide the admonishment in my voice. “Yeah, you said that already.”Sorry for what?was the question.

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