Page 25 of Not This Time

Rachel clenched her fists.

"Damn it," she muttered under her breath, her eyes scanning the horizon as if searching for answers among the stars.

"He never paid up," Tom continued, shakily, "and it started causing problems between our families."

"Problems?" Ethan echoed, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Enough for you to kill him?"

"Look, that's not how I wanted it to go down," Tom said, his voice wavering slightly. "But yeah, there was tension. The kind of tension that could lead to bloodshed. I don't call the... er, you know... shots."

He winced.

If Tom's words were true, then this moonshine feud had been the driving force behind shooting Jack. And yet, something still didn't add up. It didn't explain his wife's death.

"Jack's wife," she said, narrowing her eyes at Tom. "What about her? Was she collateral?"

Tom shook his head vehemently. "No. We never touched her, I swear."

Was he telling the truth? He seemed scared enough to be. He was crying... Unless he was one excellent actor, she believed him.

She took a deep breath, feeling the cool mountain air fill her lungs.

The harsh wind howled through the trees, their branches groaning as if in agony. Rachel's breath came out in small puffs, barely visible against the darkening sky. She studied Tom's face, searching for any hint of deception. He looked away, avoiding her gaze, but she wasn't about to let him off the hook.

"Tom," she pressed, her voice low and insistent, "I need you to be straight with me. Is there anything else you're hiding? Anything that could help us figure out what happened to Jack's wife? The way I see it, you're the prime suspect in her murder."

"Me? Hello, no." Tom hesitated, his eyes darting between Rachel and Ethan in the dim light. He swallowed hard, and when he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. "There's something... something I didn't mention before."

Rachel's heart pounded in her chest, anticipation tightening her muscles like a coiled spring. "What is it?"

"The bags... the bags you found in Jack's house--the ones you mentioned," Tom said, his words coming out in a rush. "They weren't packed for his wife to leave him. They were meant for the hospital."

"Hospital?"

"Yeah... yeah, she had a rare condition. Everyone knew about it. Couldn't have kids. Was always a second away from needing to be rushed to the hospital..." As he said it, she wondered if the irony echoed as loudly to him as it did to her.

He wasn't looking at the corpse bound to his wrist.

Rachel frowned.

"His wife was sick?"

"Very."

"Someone killed a sick woman?"

"I... I guess so. But like I told you, it was probably Jack anyway. He's an asshole. Er... was."

Rachel pointed at him. "Shut up. Let me think."

He went quiet, biting his lower lip.

She could feel her anger still swirling in her chest like some great vortex.

Ethan was still watching her through the window dividing the cabin from the back of the truck.

"What are you thinking?" he said.

She didn't reply at first. She hated to admit it, but Tom's story made sense.

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