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were
on the left. The right side of the fence was bare, allowing me to
look into Steven and Amber’s backyard. They had a kidney shaped
swimming pool, covered until spring. If Steven hadn’t been so cheap
and had put up a privacy fence like most pool owners, none of this
would have happened.
    Light spilled out from their den into the
backyard, but otherwise the house was dark. I hadn’t heard from
Amber since the incident at the Holiday Inn. Our conversations were
almost as sporadic as our liaisons. She was terrified of Steven and
went to great lengths to keep him from finding out about our
affair. Sometimes we went several days without talking, often a
week or more. She was always the one who initiated contact, waiting
until it was safe to call or text. I wondered what happened Sunday.
Or Monday.
    It was always quiet, peaceful, in my
backyard—aside from Blondie’s sudden eruptions. The perfect place
to look at the stars. And enjoy a drink.
    The phone rang, my cell. Blondie began
barking. I checked the caller ID. Unknown. Two in one day. I
almost let it go to voicemail, wanting to stay in the rare still
moment. But it could be about a job and I couldn’t afford to pass
up work. Or maybe it was Amber, calling from a payphone.
     
    ***
     
    “Hello.”
    “Uh, yeah, this is Detective Randall Rogers
with the Indianola County Sherriff’s Department.”
    “Hey, Randy. How you doing tonight?”
    “Uh, fine. Thanks for asking. I’m calling
because you may have some information on a case we are working
on.”
    “I got your card.”
    “My card?”
    “What’s the case?”
    “Well, it’s a little on the delicate side.
I’d rather not talk about it over the phone.”
    “Okay.”
    “I’d be happy to come by your work or home if
that’s convenient.”
    “No, I’ll just stop by your office in the
morning. It’s on my way.”
    “My office?”
    “At the Sherriff’s Department.”
    “Oh. I guess that should be fine.”
    “You going by the gym tomorrow?”
    “The gym? I’m not sure. What’s a good time
for you?”
    “Nine?”
    “Perfect. Just ask the duty sergeant for the
detective’s and he’ll show you up.”
    “I’m pretty sure I can find it.”
    “Tomorrow at nine.”
    “I’ll be there with bells on.”
    Delicate.
    Blondie took off after something, probably a
shadow. I finished me drink and stood. Only a little wobbly.

 
     
     
    Chapter Five
     
     
    The Indianola Sherriff’s Department was
collocated with the jail, the sheriff’s office on the first two
floors of the modern brick building, county lockup on the top two.
I almost turned into the employee lot before circling around the
block to visitor parking. The courthouse was across the street.
Rain had moved in during the early hours, a drizzle that promised
to stick around. Not much, but it was enough to pull out my hiking
boots.
    The uniformed officer at the desk looked up
without interest as I pushed into the lobby. He was overweight,
balding, about to turn fifty, and counting the days. “You come to
turn yourself in?”
    “You’ll never get a confession out of me,
Bo.”
    “Bet we could beat it out of you.”
    “Bet you couldn’t. How’s the gout?”
    “Hurts like hell. Hope you didn’t come to get
your job back.”
    I shook my head. “I need to talk to
Randy.”
    “Gotta leave your piece with me.”
    “It’s in the Jeep.”
    He nodded and pushed a button to release the
electronic lock.
    “You’re supposed to give me directions to the
detectives.”
    He gave me a bland look instead.
    I took the stairs, figuring the exercise
wouldn’t hurt and waiting on that damn elevator would. The bullpen
was unchanged, three sets of desks pushed together, a door at the
side with Lt. Grant spelled out on the glass, two unmarked
doors on the other. A muscle-bound man was coming out of the
office, his shirtsleeves tight against the biceps. He gave me a
curious look.
    “Sorry, son,” he said, “we ain’t hiring.”
    “Nuts.”
    “And