Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Huck appeared in the doorway. “Hey, Kate said you puked all over. Are you okay?”
Laurel finished stirring the tea. “Yes, I vomited, but I’m all right. I lost all the pie, though.”
He chuckled. “Isn’t that supposed to go away soon?”
She turned and looked at him. His eyebrows were lifted and his gaze intent. “Is that concern on your face?”
“Yeah. That’s concern on my face.”
She took a sip of the tea, letting the chamomile soothe her throat. “There’s a chance the nausea will dissipate after twelve weeks, but there’s no bright line in the sand.”
Huck smiled, still looking concerned. “Where does that phrase come from anyway, ‘bright line in the sand’?”
“Oh,” she said, sipping again. “The ‘bright’ part is new. It used to be just a line in the sand. You know, to delineate a limit. I think, according to popular lore, it was used during the Battle of the Alamo in 1836.”
“Is that a fact?” Huck leaned against the doorframe.
“Yes. Apparently Lieutenant Colonel William Travis drew a line in the sand with a sword and asked those willing to stay and defend the fort to step over the line.”
“Did everybody step over the line?”
She warmed to the subject. “Everybody but one man.”
“Who’s the guy who didn’t step over the line?”
Laurel ran through what she remembered. “Keep in mind all of this may have been embellished or invented as a good story, but supposedly a man named Louis Moses Rose did not cross the line. This is just folklore.”
“I do like how you quote folklore,” he said. “You did a good job facing down Zeke Caine yesterday.”
“Thank you. You excelled at refraining from punching him in the face.”
Huck grinned. “See, you can read people well.”
“No, I didn’t read that at all. I just know you.” It was surprising how much warmth she felt at being able to make that statement.
He cleared his throat. “We should have a dump on Haylee’s phone in a day or so.”
“Good. Although Jason Abbott is too smart to call Haylee, unless he wants us to know he called her,” Laurel said. “I wish we could obtain Melissa Cutting’s phone records.”
Huck shook his head. “She’s an attorney and has a lot of clients. There’s just no way.”
How irritating. “I know. I don’t suppose Abbott would have told her anything of merit anyway. I think Melissa would have communicated a concern to us.”
“You do?”
“Affirmative. I know she’s representing him, and she’s receiving good press from the case, but he is a serial killer, and she must care about her niece some,” Laurel said.
Huck nodded. “We’re nowhere on Abbott and so far nowhere on the two blondes found by the rivers. What did you think of that Tim Kohnex?”
“He sounded lonely,” Laurel said. “Kate asked me the same thing about Kohnex.”
“Do you think he really believes he’s psychic?”
Laurel shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you?”
“Yeah,” Huck said. “I think he believes it. Do you believe in psychics?”
She shook her head. “There’s no empirical evidence that psychics can read thoughts or know of events before they happen. I think a lot of people put dots together. A good charlatan can do that. A talented performer at a circus or a fair can do that. It’s all about reading people, which I do not know how to do, but there are some phenomenally talented grifters out there who are capable of it.”
“You think Kohnex’s a grifter?”
They’d likely find out soon enough. “I think he might really believe,” Laurel said.
“In that case, could he be dangerous?” Huck asked.
Anybody could be dangerous. “It depends what his delusions tell him. What do your instincts say about him?”
“I’m not sure,” Huck said. “I found him difficult to read.”
That was a rarity for the captain.
“Or,” Huck acknowledged, “maybe I was just focused on Zeke Caine being in the same room with you. I didn’t like it.”
Laurel moved toward him. “I didn’t like it either, but I need to discover where he has been during his travels. I want to put him in prison, Huck.”
“I know.” He rubbed the whiskers on his rugged chin. “How many people have you seen in the last two weeks who have worn red shoes?”
She tried to take a moment away from thinking about murder. “That’s a game I play with the deputy director of the FBI.”
“Yeah, but it’s a fun game.”
Her stomach finally settled. “In the last two weeks, I would say probably twenty-eight.”
“Probably?”
Sometimes she liked to sound as if she was being thoughtful about something when the number just popped into her head. “Okay. Most certainly twenty-eight.”
“That seems like a lot for the small town of Genesis Valley.”
“I spoke to a kindergarten class about spring and summer safety, and little red boots appeared to be in style.” She looked out the window at the softly falling snow. “Although I should’ve stressed winter safety since that early spring doesn’t appear to be arriving.”