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Page 48
Page 48
“Just small stuff. Nothing like you do, I’m sure.”
“I don’t bet. Anymore, that is.”
“Not even on your own horses?”
“Especially not my own. So what can I do for you?”
The detective walked across to the stall whose top half was shut. “Wow. This is a beauty in here—”
Edward shook his head. “I wouldn’t get too close if I were—”
Nebekanzer bared his teeth and lunged at the bars, and Merrimack pinwheeled backward, tap-dancing better than Savion Glover.
As the man caught himself on an opposite stall door, Edward said, “You’re not familiar with horses, are you?”
“Ah … no.” The man straightened and retucked his shirt. “No, I’m not.”
“Well, when you walk into a barn full of open stall halves and there’s one, and only one, that’s fully closed? Chances are that’s for a good reason.”
Merrimack shook his head at the great stallion, who was stalking back and forth like he wanted out and not to shake hands politely. “Tell me no one rides that thing.”
“Only me. And I have nothing to lose.”
“You? You can get in a saddle on the back of that horse.”
“He’s my stallion, not just a horse. And yes, I can. When I set my mind to something, I can make it happen even in this body.”
Merrimack refocused. Smiled again. “Can you. Well, that must be helping with your recovery. I read about your …”
“Unfortunate vacation? Yes, what I went through is never going to show up on Trivago. But at least I got the frequent-flyer points for the trip down. Nothing coming north, though. They had to airlift what was left of me to an Army base, and then the Air Force got me back to the States.”
“I can’t imagine what that was like.”
“Yes, you can.” Edward leaned back on the hay bale and rearranged his legs. “So what can I do for you?”
“Wait, you said the Air Force brought you home?”
“The Ambassador to Colombia is a friend of my family’s. He was very helpful. So was a sheriff’s deputy friend of mine from here in Charlemont.”
“Did your father arrange for the help?”
“No, he did not.”
“No?”
Edward tilted his head. “He had other priorities at the time. Did you come all the way out to Ogden County just to ask me about my horses? Or is this about my father?”
Merrimack smiled again, in that way that seemed to indicate he was thinking but didn’t want to seem threatening. “It is. Just a few background questions. In situations like this, we like to start with family.”
“Ask away.”
“Can you describe your relationship with your father?”
Edward moved the broom between his knees and batted the handle back and forth. “It was fractious.”
“That’s a big word.”
“Do you need a definition?”
“No, I don’t.” Merrimack took out a pad from his back pocket and opened it. “So you weren’t close.”
“I worked with him for a number of years. But I wouldn’t say that the traditional father-son relationship was one we shared.”
“You were his heir apparent?”
“I was in a business sense.”
“But you are not anymore.”
“He’s dead. He doesn’t have any ‘anymore,’ does he? And why don’t you come out and ask me whether I killed him and cut off his finger?”
Another of those smiles. And what do you know, the guy had nice teeth, everything straight and white, but not in a fake, cosmetically enhanced way. “All right. Maybe you’d like to answer your own question.”
“How can I possibly kill anyone? I can barely sweep this aisle.”
Merrimack looked down and back. “You just told me it was all about motivation for you.”
“You’re a homicide detective. You must be well aware of how much effort it takes to murder someone. My father was a healthy man, and in my current condition, he weighed about fifty pounds more than I do. I may not have been terribly fond of him, but that doesn’t mean patricide was on my bucket list.”
“Can you tell me where you were the night he died?”
“I was here.”
“Is there anyone who can corroborate that—”
“I can.”
Shelby stepped out from the supply room, as unapologetic and calm as a Buddha. Even though she was lying.
“Hello, miss,” the detective said, walking over and extending his palm. “I’m from the Charlemont Metro Police Department. And you are?”
“Shelby Landis.” She shook hands and stepped back. “I work here as a stable hand.”
“For how long?”
“Not long. A week or so. My dad died and he told me to come here.”
Merrimack glanced at Edward. “And that night, the night your father died, the two of you were …”
“Just here,” Edward said. “Sitting around. That’s the extent of things for me.”
“Well, I’m sure that’s understandable.” Smile. “Let me ask you something. What kind of car do you drive?”
Edward shrugged. “I don’t, really. My Porsche is back at Easterly. It’s a stick shift, so it’s not really all that practical anymore.”
“When was the last time you were back home?”
“That isn’t my home anymore. I live here.”
“Fine, when were you last at Easterly?”
Edward thought back to him and Lane getting into the business center so that those financial records could see the light of day. Technically, it hadn’t been breaking and entering, but Edward sure as hell wouldn’t have been welcomed there. And yes, he had stolen corporate information.
Then he had had that moment with Miss Aurora, the woman wrapping her arms around him and breaking him up on the inside.
Lot of security cameras at Easterly. Outside and inside the house. Inside the business center.
“I was there a couple of days ago. To see my brother Lane.”
“And what did you do while you were there?”
“Talked to him.” Used a back door into the network to extract information. Watched his father make a deal with Sutton. After the bastard hit on her. “We just caught up.”