do, it’ll be all over,” he said. The people Michele knew, knew Max, had known him a long time. They were only human and they were bound to get scared for Michele.
“I kinda thought you’d say that,” Spike said. He extended a hand, palm up. “My time has run out. Can you give me anythin’, Max? Anythin’ at all? My gut tells me an intelligent guy like you isn’t goin’ to risk everythin’ by…I don’t think you’re a killer but I don’t have a whole lot of choice but to proceed as if you might be.”
“And do what?” Max pushed aside his coffee. “Arrest me?”
“Keep it down,” Spike said. “I’m not goin’ to arrest you. I can’t. You’re an innocent man, remember. I can’t hold past criminal investigations against you. But give me a way to tie you to foul play here and you’re in the slammer.”
Max felt sweat along his hairline. “What are you trying to get out of me? I didn’t do anything to Michele. And I want her found, dammit. D’you understand me?”
“You’re not in a position to play it heavy with me,” Spike said.
“Why not?” Max curled his lip in a sneer. “I’m an innocent man, remember.”
“I came here for one reason,” Spike said, any trace of humor long gone. “You’re the only suspect I’ve got. Thought I ought to tell you that.”
Max swallowed and it hurt. “You haven’t started to look.”
“Sure, I have. And those telephone numbers are bein’ followed up on right now. Why don’t you cut the crap and save us both a lot of time. Where is she?”
A steady drumming pain set up in Max’s temples. The horror had started all over again. “I don’t know. She’s a friend of mine and I like her. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. I want to help with the search. My brothers have already asked why we haven’t been called out.”
“I don’t think it would be a good idea, that’s why. You wouldn’t be the first murderer to help look for the victim. You think we’re hicks here, don’t you? That’s why you never thought I’d get around to looking at you.”
Max rubbed his palms together. “I’ve got enemies, I tell you. Enemies who want to ruin me. And they don’t care what they do to people along the way.”
“So you say,” Spike said. “We’re takin’ the area apart. And we expect to find a dead body.”
CHAPTER 8
S pike stood up and threw down some bills. He nodded at Max, stepped away from the table and stopped. “Hey, Homer,” he said, but he frowned at his father. “Didn’t see you come in. What’s up?”
The drone of his heart and the pulse in his ears flattened sounds and movement around Max. He glanced up at Homer Devol and was grateful the older man didn’t look in his direction.
Rolling the brim of his straw Stetson in gnarled hands, Homer stared at his son. “We gotta talk,” he said. “No use puttin’ it off any longer.”
Max had learned the hard way that people didn’t seem to bother much about privacy around here. Homer looked about ready to spill his guts and whatever he had to say might not be pleasant.
The tables had cleared out, all but for the man on his own sitting near the counter. He continued to read his newspaper.
“You gotta be wonderin’,” Homer said to Spike.
“I am now. Let’s go outside.”
“Here’s good enough. I want what I’m going to say to get around this town fast. I’m sick of havin’ folks snicker about me behind my back.”
Max could see Spike in Homer. Also tall but thinner and sinuous, his face seamed with deep lines, Homer would be counted as a nice-looking man who obviously hadn’t led a soft life. Crew-cut gray hair stood up thick and helped make Homer seem more vigorous than he should.
At the counter, Annie held the cat. The animal closed her eyes tightly, suggesting she was in bliss. There was a rigid set to Annie’s back. Max figured she could hear the Devol men argue and wasn’t sure what to do next.
“Homer, please—”
“Stand there and take
“I kinda thought you’d say that,” Spike said. He extended a hand, palm up. “My time has run out. Can you give me anythin’, Max? Anythin’ at all? My gut tells me an intelligent guy like you isn’t goin’ to risk everythin’ by…I don’t think you’re a killer but I don’t have a whole lot of choice but to proceed as if you might be.”
“And do what?” Max pushed aside his coffee. “Arrest me?”
“Keep it down,” Spike said. “I’m not goin’ to arrest you. I can’t. You’re an innocent man, remember. I can’t hold past criminal investigations against you. But give me a way to tie you to foul play here and you’re in the slammer.”
Max felt sweat along his hairline. “What are you trying to get out of me? I didn’t do anything to Michele. And I want her found, dammit. D’you understand me?”
“You’re not in a position to play it heavy with me,” Spike said.
“Why not?” Max curled his lip in a sneer. “I’m an innocent man, remember.”
“I came here for one reason,” Spike said, any trace of humor long gone. “You’re the only suspect I’ve got. Thought I ought to tell you that.”
Max swallowed and it hurt. “You haven’t started to look.”
“Sure, I have. And those telephone numbers are bein’ followed up on right now. Why don’t you cut the crap and save us both a lot of time. Where is she?”
A steady drumming pain set up in Max’s temples. The horror had started all over again. “I don’t know. She’s a friend of mine and I like her. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. I want to help with the search. My brothers have already asked why we haven’t been called out.”
“I don’t think it would be a good idea, that’s why. You wouldn’t be the first murderer to help look for the victim. You think we’re hicks here, don’t you? That’s why you never thought I’d get around to looking at you.”
Max rubbed his palms together. “I’ve got enemies, I tell you. Enemies who want to ruin me. And they don’t care what they do to people along the way.”
“So you say,” Spike said. “We’re takin’ the area apart. And we expect to find a dead body.”
CHAPTER 8
S pike stood up and threw down some bills. He nodded at Max, stepped away from the table and stopped. “Hey, Homer,” he said, but he frowned at his father. “Didn’t see you come in. What’s up?”
The drone of his heart and the pulse in his ears flattened sounds and movement around Max. He glanced up at Homer Devol and was grateful the older man didn’t look in his direction.
Rolling the brim of his straw Stetson in gnarled hands, Homer stared at his son. “We gotta talk,” he said. “No use puttin’ it off any longer.”
Max had learned the hard way that people didn’t seem to bother much about privacy around here. Homer looked about ready to spill his guts and whatever he had to say might not be pleasant.
The tables had cleared out, all but for the man on his own sitting near the counter. He continued to read his newspaper.
“You gotta be wonderin’,” Homer said to Spike.
“I am now. Let’s go outside.”
“Here’s good enough. I want what I’m going to say to get around this town fast. I’m sick of havin’ folks snicker about me behind my back.”
Max could see Spike in Homer. Also tall but thinner and sinuous, his face seamed with deep lines, Homer would be counted as a nice-looking man who obviously hadn’t led a soft life. Crew-cut gray hair stood up thick and helped make Homer seem more vigorous than he should.
At the counter, Annie held the cat. The animal closed her eyes tightly, suggesting she was in bliss. There was a rigid set to Annie’s back. Max figured she could hear the Devol men argue and wasn’t sure what to do next.
“Homer, please—”
“Stand there and take
Similar Books
