Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 114820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
“Bobby?”
“Lana’s dead husband. Not gonna say rest in peace for that guy. I’ve seen more of that man than is healthy.” She dug into her pocket, presumably from what she said next, for her phone. “You seen the videos?”
He knew exactly what she was talking about now, and as such, his voice sounded clogged when he answered, “Yes.”
She read his tone. “Mm-hm, you bet. Anyway.” She stood. “I need a coffee. I need a brownie. And I need to open my shop. I open late on Sundays.”
“Smart to give yourself a day to sleep in.”
“Agreed. Good luck to you, Agent.”
“Thanks, Kimmy.”
She wandered into the coffeehouse.
Rus took a sip of his drink, not knowing whether he felt ambushed or privileged.
He looked up this time before she got too close.
“Agent,” she said.
She was tall. She was attractive. She knew it.
She reminded him of Lucinda, but her edge was cool and cutting, where beyond the veil of Lucinda’s, there was nothing but warmth. The obstacles you faced to get to the heart of this woman were barbed. The ones to Lucinda’s were clever. You had to take time and put effort into figuring out how to maneuver them, but they didn’t cause pain along the way.
“Hello,” he greeted.
“May I sit?”
“Sure.”
Although it wasn’t exactly welcoming, she took his invitation and sat, carefully aiming her very nice ass to the seat while holding her takeaway coffee.
“I’m Lana,” she introduced.
He’d just heard her name.
She explained how he knew her even though he already knew.
“I’m Malorie’s stepmother. Malorie Graham.”
Dead girl number two for Ray Andrews.
And Lana was the ringleader of the posse of wives who’d obliterated their husbands.
He sat up straighter, saying, “Nice to meet you, Lana.”
“I don’t want to take up a lot of your time, but I feel you should know, there are rumblings. Some people are demanding a town council meeting where they want to force Harry to explain what’s going on with what happened to that woman at the motel.”
Shit.
“Thanks for telling me.”
“I understand you all have to do what you have to do how you have to do it. I mean, I know much more than others how there’s a certain way to go about these things. But the town has some post-traumatic stress. That isn’t on Harry. It’s on Dern. Our last sheriff.”
“Right.”
“Still, that kind of thing doesn’t fade away. It was only about a year ago that…”
She didn’t finish.
“I know,” he said low.
She took a breath into her nose, and it came off as a supercilious sniff, but he knew it wasn’t.
She was reliving something hideous, talking to him.
Still, she was taking the time to do it and it said a lot about her.
“If they call a meeting, I’ll come and explain that it isn’t exactly in that woman’s best interest for the police to share every little thing they’re doing. I don’t know if it will help. We have a lot of characters in this town. But most people are normal. Rational. They’ll listen to logic and back down.”
“That’s good to know.”
“Also, what Ellen did is not okay.”
Right then.
She was taking the time to address all of it.
And he wondered if Lucinda was wrong for once, because Lana knowing what Ellen did just yesterday morning wouldn’t suggest she was out of that group.
“They were very angry when they found out about the murder,” she carried on. “Ellen is more…” She searched for a word. “Militant than the others. They heard about what happened to Brittanie Iverson, and obviously, as anyone would be, they were shaken.”
It seemed he now had the opportunity to learn more about this coven, and Rus didn’t squander opportunities.
“I’ve been hearing a lot about your friends,” he noted leadingly.
She was not a woman to be led.
“Wendy is my friend,” she corrected. “And I like some of the others quite a bit.”
In other words, not all of them.
More words than that, she and Wendy talk, but she’s not one of them.
“There’s a reason, or many of them, why they’re all where they are,” she shared. “You’ll never understand because you are who you are.”
“A man,” Rus deduced.
She tipped her head to the side in a, clearly.
To return her favor, but more, to win her trust because she was a woman you wanted on your side, he said, “I’m here right now to get a bead on this town, the town where Brittanie lived, and maybe where her killer lives. And I’m here to take a break. I’ve made some decisions based on information and gut. I’ve been immersing myself in Brittanie’s life. I need to shake it off. I need to hit it tomorrow with clear eyes and a fresh perspective.”
“You don’t have to explain to me.”
“Yes, Lana, I do, and since you’re one of the few people in this town who deserves that explanation, you know why I do,” he said quietly.