Page 22 of Close Her Eyes

Mettner said, “What we found were a total of five firearms on the premises that are unsecured.”

Cyrus said nothing. His expression didn’t change.

Vance said, “So what?”

Mettner looked up at him. “I think you know that you are prohibited from possessing firearms due to your aggravated assault conviction.”

Vance’s grin widened. “Good thing I’m not in possession of any firearms, then.”

“But because the firearms on this property are not secured, you have access to them, which means you can be charged with persons not to possess a firearm.”

From the rocking chair, Dermot hissed. “Bullshhhiiittt.”

Lark didn’t speak but covered the smirk on her lips with one hand. Vance looked from Mettner to Cyrus. “Cy, tell this piece of shit that I am not in possession of a firearm.”

From her periphery, Josie saw Gretchen’s hand go to her holster. Mettner kept his gaze on Vance, unblinking. Josie looked at Cyrus, who dropped his chin to his chest and closed his eyes. Slowly, he shook his head.

“Cy,” Dermot rasped.

Vance slowly made his way down the steps, coming within a few feet of Mettner. He pointed a finger at Mettner’s chest. “Let me give you a piece of advice, jackass. You don’t come onto my farm and start lobbing accusations around. I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but—”

Mettner cut him off, voice firm and clear. “Mr. Hadlee, I’m not in the habit of taking advice from felons who treat women like livestock. You have been found to be in possession of firearms. You will be charged accordingly.”

He waved a hand toward Cyrus, who still stood near his cruiser, head low and bobbing back and forth. After a beat of silence, he opened his eyes and looked up at Vance. A heavy sigh issued from somewhere deep in his chest. “Get in the goddamn cruiser, Vance.”

Dermot stumbled to his feet, the rocking chair clattering to the ground. Lark rushed to his side, clasping his weak arm in her hands. “Daddy, no.”

A flush crept across Vance’s face. Hands fisted at his sides, he took another step closer to Mettner.

“Dammit, Vance,” Cyrus said. “Get over here. Don’t make me cuff you, for chrissake.”

Josie heard the sound of Gretchen’s holster unsnapping. To his credit, Mettner stood straight and still. For every ounce of menace oozing from Vance Hadlee’s body, Mettner showed twice as much confidence.

Cyrus opened the back door of the cruiser. “Vance.”

After a few more seconds during which Josie could feel the tension like a thick cloud enveloping them all, Dermot said, “Go.”

Vance glanced at his father. Then, head lowered, face redder than before, he strode over to Cyrus’s car and got into the back.

Cyrus closed the door and looked back at Josie, Gretchen, and Mettner with a look of utter exhaustion and irritation. “Are there any other hornets’ nests you three want to poke before you leave?”

Josie said, “We’ve got to visit your local bars. Vance frequents them.”

Surprise flashed across his face, but he quickly covered it. “Guess you’re wanting me to make some introductions.”

“No,” Gretchen said. “We’re giving you the courtesy of telling you that we’ll be continuing our investigation here in your jurisdiction.”

Mettner said, “I’ll come back to the station with you. Fill out any paperwork that needs to be done.”

Cyrus didn’t acknowledge Mettner. He opened the driver’s side door and stood behind it, eyes squinting against the setting sun as he regarded them. “Well, you two ladies have fun on your pub crawl. I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure, but it hasn’t. Hope I don’t see any of you around here again.”

FOURTEEN

There were two bars in Bly and neither of their bartenders would admit to having Vance Hadlee as a patron. The locals, who were packed inside each bar for their Saturday-night outing, were even less excited to see two police officers from out of town than the Hadlee family had been, and refused to speak to them at all. If they wanted to know about Vance’s nighttime activities and the women he entertained, they weren’t going to find out from either bar. Exhausted and starving, they found Mettner waiting for them in the Bly PD parking lot and drove back to their own stationhouse in a caravan, only stopping once for takeout. After filing their reports and bringing both Noah and the Chief up to speed on everything they’d discovered that day, Josie’s and Gretchen’s shifts were over.

At home, Josie stood inside the foyer, car keys still in hand, and waited for Trout to come darting to her from another room. But he didn’t. The only thing that reached her was the delicious scent of a roast, followed by voices from the kitchen. There was only one person who could make those sorts of smells come from Josie and Noah’s kitchen, and that was their friend Misty DeRossi. Josie’s stomach rumbled in response to the stimuli.

“I’m home,” she called out.

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