Patricia Davids - Speed Trap

“Yes, ma’am.”

She waited in vain for him to explain. He didn’t say a word, didn’t move a muscle. Finally, she nodded toward the hood. “Care to tell me how this happened?”

“It’s an old truck. It gets used hard.”

Wow, two whole sentences. He’s really loosening up.

Stepping back, she cocked her head to one side. “This midnight blue looks almost black, doesn’t it?”

He didn’t say “Yes, ma’am” this time. He said, “Is there something I can do for you?”

His tone was clipped, lacking any emotion. His stillness bothered her. Was he hiding something?

Garrett wasn’t used to company—especially not the company of a pretty woman who happened to be a cop. She’d come for a reason. He wished she’d get to the point.

She gazed at him without flinching. “Do you know a woman named Judy Bowen?”

His unease flared like a grass fire. “Yes.”

“How well do you know her?” Her question sounded nonchalant, but it wasn’t.

“What’s this about, Sheriff?”

“I asked how well do you know her?”

Something was wrong, but he sensed he wouldn’t get answers from Sheriff Scott until she was ready to give them.

He forced his tense muscles to relax. “She’s my ex-wife, but I figure you already know that.”

Only the slightest lift of her eyebrows acknowledged his assumption. “When did you see her last?”

He clamped his teeth together. He didn’t like sharing details of his personal life. “Judy split about a year ago. I haven’t seen her since.”

“I heard she was here today. What time did she leave?”

How did the sheriff know Judy was coming to visit? “She hasn’t shown up yet.”

“Care to tell me why she was here?”

“I told you, I haven’t seen her yet.” He kept his face carefully blank. He’d learned as a child not to show fear or anger or anything that would trigger his father’s rage. Still, it was hard to hold back his growing concern.

“Is that so?” She clearly didn’t believe him. Her eyes locked with his, seeking something. Weakness?

Never let ’em see you’re scared. He could hear his mother’s cautiously whispered advice.

Garrett raised his chin a notch. “I’m not answering your questions until you tell me why you’re asking. What’s wrong?”

Mandy’s eyes widened. “Why would something be wrong?”

“Because you’re out here, grilling me.”

She folded her arms and leaned back slightly. “Your ex-wife is dead. What do you know about that?”

Mandy scrutinized Garrett Bowen’s face, paying close attention to every detail.

“Judy’s dead?” The disbelief in his voice was the first crack in his armor that she’d seen.

His gaze dropped to his boots. The dog came over. Whining, the mutt rose and braced his front paws against Garrett’s knee. After a long moment, Garrett asked, “How?”

A flash of sympathy darted through her, but she suppressed it. Her job was finding Judy Bowen’s killer. Mandy pulled her notebook from her pocket and flipped it open. “Her car was deliberately run off the road. Where were you at seven o’clock this morning?”

He looked up sharply. “Here.”

“Who can verify that?”

“Wiley.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And who is that?”

He nodded toward his feet. “The dog. I don’t get a lot of company.”

Not much of an alibi, yet his words had a vague ring of truth. If he wanted to cover up his involvement in a murder he could certainly do better than make a dog his only witness.

“Care to tell me what Judy wanted to see you about?”

“I don’t know,” he stated quietly.

Once more her suspicions were aroused. “Your ex-wife was coming to see you after a year and you had no idea why?”

“That’s right. I got a call from Judy a week ago. She said she had to see me—to tell me something she couldn’t put in a letter or talk about over the phone.”

“Didn’t that seem strange?”

“It did, but I didn’t pry.” He stared at his boots again. “Were drugs involved in her death?”

“That’s an odd question. Why do you ask?” She hoped pretending ignorance of his record would put him off guard. If she could, she wanted to catch him in a lie. It would help her decide if she believed anything else he’d told her.

“Judy—had a drug problem.”

“Really. When was this?”

He waited for a long moment, then said, “While we were married, and before I met her.”

“I see. What about you?”

Glancing up suddenly, he said, “I was arrested once for possession as I’m sure you already know. You think I had something to do with her death.”

She arched one eyebrow. “I never said that.”

“You don’t have to say it.”

“Did you kill her?”

“No.”

Again, she heard a ring of truth in his voice, but she wasn’t willing to accept his word. She’d been wrong before.

Let me get this one right, Lord. Help me find justice for that little boy.

Deciding to press Garrett, she stepped closer. “I can see how things might have gotten out of hand. You had a fight. She took off. You followed. Maybe all you wanted to do was stop her. You never meant to send her car off the road.”

“No.” His stood absolutely still. He didn’t so much as flinch at her accusations. The wall he kept his emotions hidden behind was thick and well-crafted.

Mandy swept a hand toward his pickup. “I’d like to collect a paint sample from your vehicle.”

“Don’t you need a warrant for that?”

“I can get one.” It wasn’t an empty threat. She knew Judge Bailey would grant her request, but she also knew he was gone on a fishing trip until the end of the week. She didn’t intend to wait that long.

Garrett slipped his hands in his hip pockets. “Take anything you want if it will help find who killed Judy.”

His cooperation added weight to her feeling that he might be telling the truth, but didn’t completely sway her. He wasn’t what she would call eager and willing to help.

Keeping one eye on him, she set about collecting the paint scraping, sealing it in an evidence envelope and tucking it in her shirt pocket.

When she was finished, she turned and walked back to her vehicle. With one hand on the door, she glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t leave the area, Mr. Bowen. I’m going to have more questions for you.”

Kathryn Scott opened the oven door and extracted a meat loaf with a pair of blue flowered oven mitts. “A murdered woman, an ex-husband with no alibi and a baby. This case sounds a lot like the one you worked in Kansas City just before your father died.”

Mandy didn’t need to be reminded of that fact. It had been rolling around in her mind all day. “It is similar to the Wallace case.”

“Whatever happened to him?” Kathryn placed the pan on an iron trivet on the table.

Mandy, standing at the counter in her mother’s cheery white-and-yellow old-fashioned kitchen, continued filling two glasses with iced tea. “He’s serving life in prison for smothering his baby daughter. I—We were never able to prove he killed his wife.”

“Life can be so terribly sad. Sometimes, it seems as if evil is winning.”

“Sometimes it does,” Mandy agreed softly.

She’d only been a homicide detective in Kansas City for a few short months when she caught the Wallace case. In spite of the fact that her partner thought the husband was guilty of his ex-wife’s murder, Mandy believed the man’s story and released him after questioning him only briefly.

If she’d been less trusting, less gullible. If she’d dug a little deeper, tried harder to break him, maybe his daughter would still be alive.