anything out until he had hard evidence on which to base his
decision.
God, he hoped it was true. He would real y like to have just been handed his
first solid lead in this murder investigation. Going back to her kidnapping case
would be like finding a secret staircase in a huge house. It could take him
down hal ways he’d never have thought to explore. Including right to her own
kidnapper, who might very wel have murdered his young accomplice for
helping Olivia to escape, not that he was about to mention that possibility. Why
add to her guilt by pointing out something he’d lay money she had already
considered?
Honestly, at this point, he wasn’t placing bets one way or another. But he
certainly hoped she was right. Not only would it make his job easier, it also
might give her a little closure he suspected she badly needed.
“The news said he was hidden in that bar that burned down?” she said.
“That’s correct. He’d been entombed right behind the drywal .”
She blanched, and he kicked himself for being so blunt. But she didn’t back
down. “When you say entombed, do you mean the kil er built a wal around
him? He didn’t just stash him in a crawl space or something?” she asked, a
frown line appearing between her eyes.
“He worked hard to conceal him, making the wal look like part of the
construction.”
“That would take some time,” she murmured, the frown deepening.
“I suspect this guy knew what he was doing.”
In fact, he’d already been gathering information from the contractors on
every person who’d worked that reconstruction job. That was a chore,
considering the way the construction businesses had col apsed when the
economy did. A lot of the workers had already been transient types, going up
and down the southeast coast looking for work during the busy hurricane
season.
“Did you happen to see any construction equipment when you were held?
Anything that would indicate he worked in that field?”
“No, I didn’t.” She nibbled the corner of her mouth, trying to work it out, then
mumbled, “But if he were a carpenter or something, that would make sense,
wouldn’t it? Then he could build something like that very quickly.”
She sounded like she was trying to convince herself, more than him, and he
found himself wondering what else she hadn’t told him. It sure sounded like
she had some time line in her head and was trying to make sure al the pieces
fit.
“Could be. Or a handyman, somebody who knows a little about a lot of
things,” he said, not wanting to get her hopes up but not wanting to dash them,
either.
“I’m sure you’re wondering if my mind is playing tricks on me,” she said, as
if noticing he’d been careful y evaluating every word she said. “If I’m real y
remembering his face or just projecting it onto that drawing.”
“Maybe. It’s been a long time. Hel , I can barely remember what my last
girlfriend looked like, unless I look at a picture of us together.” Shrugging, he
added, “Of course, that’d be impossible, since she ripped ’em al up when
she dumped my sorry ass.”
A tiny smile played on those pretty lips, as he’d wanted it to. She might have
sounded calm and cool while relating her own horrifying ordeal, but he knew it
had dredged up some stuff she’d probably rather have kept buried down in
the black muck of lost memories. He wanted to bring her back into the light,
and if playing self-deprecating good ol’ boy accomplished that, that’d be just
fine with him. Lord knows he did it enough. Seemed some people equated an
accent and a little Southern color with stupid, and sometimes it paid to have a
perp underestimate the cop who was questioning him. Gabe had learned that
real quick.
“At least she didn’t burn them.”
He lifted a wry brow. “That came after the ripping.”
“Where did the picture of your face as bul ’s-eye on a dartboard come in?”
“Hey,” he said, pretending
decision.
God, he hoped it was true. He would real y like to have just been handed his
first solid lead in this murder investigation. Going back to her kidnapping case
would be like finding a secret staircase in a huge house. It could take him
down hal ways he’d never have thought to explore. Including right to her own
kidnapper, who might very wel have murdered his young accomplice for
helping Olivia to escape, not that he was about to mention that possibility. Why
add to her guilt by pointing out something he’d lay money she had already
considered?
Honestly, at this point, he wasn’t placing bets one way or another. But he
certainly hoped she was right. Not only would it make his job easier, it also
might give her a little closure he suspected she badly needed.
“The news said he was hidden in that bar that burned down?” she said.
“That’s correct. He’d been entombed right behind the drywal .”
She blanched, and he kicked himself for being so blunt. But she didn’t back
down. “When you say entombed, do you mean the kil er built a wal around
him? He didn’t just stash him in a crawl space or something?” she asked, a
frown line appearing between her eyes.
“He worked hard to conceal him, making the wal look like part of the
construction.”
“That would take some time,” she murmured, the frown deepening.
“I suspect this guy knew what he was doing.”
In fact, he’d already been gathering information from the contractors on
every person who’d worked that reconstruction job. That was a chore,
considering the way the construction businesses had col apsed when the
economy did. A lot of the workers had already been transient types, going up
and down the southeast coast looking for work during the busy hurricane
season.
“Did you happen to see any construction equipment when you were held?
Anything that would indicate he worked in that field?”
“No, I didn’t.” She nibbled the corner of her mouth, trying to work it out, then
mumbled, “But if he were a carpenter or something, that would make sense,
wouldn’t it? Then he could build something like that very quickly.”
She sounded like she was trying to convince herself, more than him, and he
found himself wondering what else she hadn’t told him. It sure sounded like
she had some time line in her head and was trying to make sure al the pieces
fit.
“Could be. Or a handyman, somebody who knows a little about a lot of
things,” he said, not wanting to get her hopes up but not wanting to dash them,
either.
“I’m sure you’re wondering if my mind is playing tricks on me,” she said, as
if noticing he’d been careful y evaluating every word she said. “If I’m real y
remembering his face or just projecting it onto that drawing.”
“Maybe. It’s been a long time. Hel , I can barely remember what my last
girlfriend looked like, unless I look at a picture of us together.” Shrugging, he
added, “Of course, that’d be impossible, since she ripped ’em al up when
she dumped my sorry ass.”
A tiny smile played on those pretty lips, as he’d wanted it to. She might have
sounded calm and cool while relating her own horrifying ordeal, but he knew it
had dredged up some stuff she’d probably rather have kept buried down in
the black muck of lost memories. He wanted to bring her back into the light,
and if playing self-deprecating good ol’ boy accomplished that, that’d be just
fine with him. Lord knows he did it enough. Seemed some people equated an
accent and a little Southern color with stupid, and sometimes it paid to have a
perp underestimate the cop who was questioning him. Gabe had learned that
real quick.
“At least she didn’t burn them.”
He lifted a wry brow. “That came after the ripping.”
“Where did the picture of your face as bul ’s-eye on a dartboard come in?”
“Hey,” he said, pretending
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