Marie Ferrarella - Colton Baby Rescue

Was that why Finn seemed so intent on running down so-called “other” leads rather than going after a member of his own extended family? Finn was a good police chief, but his behavior seemed very suspicious to Carson.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Finn said in response to the look he saw descending over Carson’s face. “You think I’m trying to protect Demi. I’m not. I’m the police chief of this county. I don’t put family above the law. Hell, you were there. I roused my own family out of bed to conduct a search for Demi.

“But I’m not about to bend over backward and behave like someone’s puppet just to prove to everyone that I won’t let my sense of family get in the way of my doing my job. However, just because half the force is out for blood, doesn’t mean I’m going to put blinders on and pretend there might not be anyone else out there who stood to gain something from your brother’s death.”

“Like what?” Carson wanted to know.

“Well, we won’t know unless we look into it, will we?” Finn answered. “Now, aside from all those girlfriends your brother was always accumulating before he got engaged to Hayley, he was married once before, wasn’t he?”

Carson nodded. “Yeah, to Darby Gage,” he told the chief, adding, “They’ve been divorced for over two years.”

“Which one of them asked for the divorce?” Finn wanted to know.

He didn’t have to try to remember in order to answer. “Darby did.”

Finn was all ears. “Why?”

A half, rather mirthless smile curved Carson’s mouth. Just because he wanted to find Bo’s killer didn’t mean that he had approved of his brother’s fast-and-loose lifestyle.

“Seems that Darby didn’t care for the fact that Bo couldn’t stop seeing other women even though they were married.” He knew how that had to sound to Finn. “I’m not making any excuses for Bo,” Carson told the chief. “He was an alley cat. Always had been. And personally, in the end, I think that Darby was glad to be rid of him.”

“Maybe she decided she wanted to be really rid of him,” Finn countered. “In any case, I want you to go talk to the ex-wife. Find out if she has an alibi for the time your brother was murdered.”

He should have seen that coming. “Okay, will do,” Carson told him. “You heard the man, Justice,” he said to the dog. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Since her divorce from Bo Gage two years ago, Darby Gage had been forced to stitch together a number of part-time jobs just to make ends meet.

Carson found her at the diner where she worked the morning shift as a waitress.

It might have been his imagination, but his ex-sister-in-law seemed to tense up when she saw him coming into the diner.

Putting on a cheerful face, Darby walked up to him with a menu and said, “Take a seat, Detective Gage. We’ve still got a few empty tables to choose from.”

Carson picked a table that was off to one side. Parking Justice there, he sat down.

“What can I get you?” Darby asked.

He could see that the cheerfulness was forced. It probably unnerved her to see him here, he guessed. “Answers,” he told his ex-sister-in-law.

Her blue eyes swept over him. In his estimation, she looked nervous. She gave up all pretense of cheerfulness. “Is this about Bo?”

His eyes never left her face. His gut told him that she didn’t have anything to do with Bo’s murder, but he was here so he might as well do his job.

“Yes.”

Darby sighed as she shook her head. “I don’t know what I can tell you.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” Carson told her.

He’d found that saying something like that took the reins away from the person he was interviewing and put them back into his hands.

Carson kept one eye on Justice, watching for any sort of a telltale reaction on the dog’s part. All the German shepherds on the K-9 force were initially bred and then trained by Bo or one of the trainers employed at Red Ridge K-9 Training Center. That was actually where his brother had met Hayley, who was one of the trainers.

Bo had made his living breeding the dogs for the police department as well as for other clients. Darby had been part of that business until the divorce and even now, one of her part-time jobs was cleaning the kennels at the training center.

In Carson’s experience, German shepherds were exceedingly sensitive when it came to certain character traits and if Darby had somehow been involved in Bo’s murder, maybe the dog would pick up on that.

But Justice’s response to his former trainer’s ex seemed favorable. So much so that when Darby absently stroked the top of the dog’s head, Justice wagged his tail.

Taking that into account, Carson still pushed on. “Where were you around 6:30 p.m. the night Bo was killed?” he asked Darby. Then, realizing the waitress might play dumb about the date, he started to add, “That was on—”

“I know when Bo was killed,” Darby said, cutting him off. “I was just leaving the kennels after cleaning up at the training center.”

Technically, he already knew that because he had got her schedule by calling the places where she worked. But he wanted to hear what she had to say. “Anyone see you?”

“Other than the dogs?” she asked.

He couldn’t tell by Darby’s expression if she was being sarcastic or just weary. Given that Bo had put her through the wringer and was the reason why she had to hold down all these various jobs just to keep a roof over her head, for now he let the remark slide.

“Yes, other than the dogs.”

She thought for a moment. “I think one of the handlers, Jessop, was still there. He might have seen me. To be honest, I didn’t think I’d need an alibi so I didn’t make a point of having someone see me leave.” And then she suddenly remembered. “There’s a time card I punched out. That should be proof enough for you.”

He knew that there were ways to manipulate a time card. But since, in his opinion, Darby wasn’t the type who could even hurt a fly, he nodded and said, “Yes, it should.” Getting up from the table, he dug into his pocket and took out five dollars. He put it down on the table. “Thanks for your time, Darby. I’ll get back to you if I have any other questions.”

Darby picked up the five dollar bill and held it up for him to take back. “You can’t leave a big tip, you didn’t buy anything,” she pointed out.

Carson made no attempt to take the money from her. “I took up your time,” Carson answered.

With that he and Justice left the diner.

Chapter 6

Bo hadn’t done right by Darby.

That was the thought that was preying on Carson’s mind as he drove away from the diner.

They might have been brothers, but he was aware of all of Bo’s shortcomings. His older brother had always been the typical playboy: self-centered and careless with anyone else’s feelings. He was making good money with his German shepherd–breeding service and could have seen to it that Darby had got a better settlement in the divorce—at least enough so that she wasn’t forced to take on so many part-time, menial jobs in order to keep a roof over her head.

But Bo’s lawyer had been a good deal sharper than the lawyer Darby had been able to afford to represent her, so Bo had wound up keeping almost everything. He got the house, the business and most of the bank accounts, while Darby had clearly got the very short end of the stick.

In his opinion, the ultimate humiliation was when Bo had tossed her that crumb by letting her earn extra money cleaning out the kennels at his breeding operation.

If his brother hadn’t written Demi C on the pavement with his blood, Carson might have looked a little more closely at Darby as a possible suspect in Bo’s murder. He certainly couldn’t have blamed her for being bitter about the treatment she’d received at Bo’s hands both before and after the divorce.