Faces Of Evil: Traceless Part 20

Fury flashed in Keith's eyes then. "I can't tell you!"

They were on the ground again. Troy had his hands around Keith's throat. He was trying to push Troy off.

"You waited ten f.u.c.king years to tell me this." Troy squeezed harder. "You sonofab.i.t.c.h. You're no better than Austin."

"I'm sorry," Keith cried. "I pray every night that I didn't do it... but I just don't know... dammit... I just don't know."

"Then you should just f.u.c.king kill yourself and get it over with, you G.o.dd.a.m.n coward, because I'm gonna make you wish you were dead."

Troy left Keith on the ground and started for his truck.

He was finished here. He needed something a h.e.l.l of a lot stronger than beer to wash down this kind of betrayal.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN.

302 Dogwood Drive Monday, July 22, 6:45 a.m.

Justine grabbed a cup of yogurt. She peeled off the foil top and stuck her finger into the rich, creamy strawberry blend. She sucked the yogurt from her finger and moaned.

Food always tasted better after a revitalizing run.

Three miles.

A hot-cold shower with a great new moisturizing wash that she absolutely adored, then some naked time to allow her skin to breathe.

She loved her naked time.

She padded barefoot into the living room and flipped the channel to the news. Draping herself across the sofa, she caught up on world events while she lapped up her yogurt.

The pounding on her front door followed by, "Justine!" reversed the relaxed state she had achieved.

What in the world had happened with Misty now?

Unreasonably annoyed, Justine plopped her yogurt cup on the end table and dropped her feet to the floor. So much for me time before meeting the squad at eight for practice.

She grabbed the throw from the sofa and draped it around her body.

"Justine!"

"Coming!" Jesus, you 'd think the world was coming,to an end. She strode to the door and released the locks. She and Misty had been friends since they were children. Justine hated when Misty got like this.

"What's wrong?"

Misty wore the same clothes as yesterday. Her hair had fallen from its clip and was a wild ma.s.s of windblown tangles. How could anyone so brilliant be so uncaring about her appearance?

"I..." She shuddered. "I just heard. Keith is dead."

The world stopped, leaving Justine stunned and unable to breathe for a time she couldn't accurately measure. "What?"

"They found his body about an hour ago."

"What happened?" Her voice was accusing, but she couldn't help that just now.

Misty flared her hands. "Don't know for sure."

Justine drew the door open wide. "Come in."

"I knew you'd want to know," Misty babbled. "I'm sure Violet is devastated."

"Yes... she would be." Justine's chest ached, reminding her that she needed to breathe. This couldn't be... not Keith.

Misty rubbed her hands up and down her arms as if she were cold. "It's terrible. Really terrible. I wanted to be here for you. I knew you'd be upset."

Justine closed her eyes to the count of three and then she ordered herself to pull it together. She had a practice to supervise in one hour. This was terrible news... but perhaps not totally unexpected now that she was over the initial shock and thought about it. Keith hadn't been himself since Austin's return to Pine Bluff. She would need to talk to Ray and find out if it was murder... or suicide.

When she felt composed once more she opened her eyes. "Would you like some coffee?" She could use a cup for sure.

Misty nodded. "Please."

A glimpse of something red or dark brown on Misty's arm distracted Justine. "Have you hurt yourself?" She reached out, took Misty's arm, and inspected it. A nasty gash near the elbow.

"It was a stupid mistake. I fell. It's nothing."

Misty, Misty, Misty. "Did you clean it?" The answer was evident. Blood had oozed and dried.

She shrugged carelessly. "I forgot about it."

"Come on." Justine ushered Misty into the bathroom and turned on the shower. "As soon as the water's warm I want you to get in there. Wash your hair and I'll braid it for you."

She peered at Justine through her thick gla.s.ses. "You're too good to me, Justine, No one's ever been as good to me as you."

Justine ignored Misty's sentimentality and pointed at the shower. "I'll be back with coffee."

With Misty in the shower, Justine pulled on her favorite silk robe. Gold, handmade. A gift she treasured. Pushing away the pain, she went into the kitchen and made a fresh pot of coffee. Her movements felt mechanical.

Poor Violet. And the boys.

Justine braced against the counter. And Granville. He would be completely shattered. His wife was gone. He had no other children. He was all alone. This was such a tragedy. Austin should never have come back here and started this thing.

A sense of purpose filled Justine. She would see that Keith's father was well taken care of. It was the least she could do. Keith would want her to.

She took her time, sipped her coffee and resumed command of her composure. Yes. Purpose was the key. Her future might very well hinge on how she handled the aftermath of Keith's death. Granville would need someone... someone like her. The timing was perfect.

When the water stopped running in the shower, she poured another cup and headed to the bathroom to See to Misty's needs. She was obviously badly shaken. Justine would need to ensure her friend was calm and rational. Misty was far too easily agitated.

"Here you are." Justine walked in as Misty stepped out of the shower. She clutched the towel close to her chest. "Misty," Justine scolded. "Don't be silly. I've seen you nude before."

"But there's so much light in here."

Justine set the cup of coffee on the vanity counter and smiled. "Honey, you have nothing to be embarra.s.sed about." She reached for the towel, tugged it from Misty's hands. "Just look at you; you're beautiful." She took Misty's hand. "Come with me."

She led Misty to her bedroom, the steaming coffee forgotten, turned on the light, and positioned her in front of the enormous mirror.

"Now look."

Droplets of water from Misty's damp hair slid down her smooth skin. Justine frowned at the claw marks on the back of Misty's other arm near her shoulder. The notion that she'd most likely gotten those scratches in a struggle twisted inside Justine. Whatever Misty had done, it was too late to do anything about it now.

"I'm ugly," Misty murmured.

Justine snapped to attention and moved up next to Misty. She pushed the other troubling thoughts aside and smiled. There would be time to sort all that out later. "Absolutely not. See how nicely shaped your b.r.e.a.s.t.s are." She touched one, cupped its roundness, and smiled. She swept her fingers down Misty's flat belly. "You're thin, with hips the perfect size." She dragged her fingers over the nice flare between Misty's waist and her thighs. "We've talked about this before."

"Not as beautiful as you," Misty said, looking at Justine in the mirror.

The missing gla.s.ses alone made such a difference. Misty's face was the perfect heart shape. Her eyes big and round. Justine wished she would wear her contacts. "You're every bit as beautiful as me."

"Show me." Misty turned to her, reached for the sash at her waist.

Justine didn't resist. She needed to fill this emptiness widening inside her. She didn't want to think. She needed to be touched... to be cherished. She could always count on Misty for that. The robe floated to the floor.

Misty touched her. Pressed her lips to Justine's skin and trailed soft kisses over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as her fingers explored boldly. She ushered Justine down onto the edge of the bed. She lay back, closed her eyes as she spread her legs wide apart in invitation. Misty's palms slid up her thighs and the feel of her greedy tongue parting her most intimate folds caused Justine's fingers to fist in the covers. She arched toward the intrusion... wanted to feel... wanted to forget.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT.

1:55 p.m.

Ray paused at Mary Alice's desk. "Hold my calls." Then he went into his office and closed the door.

He swallowed back a howl of misery.

Keith Turner was dead.

Violet had called Ray late last night in a tizzy to say she'd come home from church to find Keith gone and that he hadn't called or been home since. Ray had a.s.sured her that she shouldn't worry. Keith had probably gone out with some of the guys and forgotten the time. It wouldn't have been the first time he and his buddies did something so thoughtless and adolescent. h.e.l.l, Ray still forgot to call his own wife from time to time when he was caught up in a case or a report.

This morning at six the first shift reporting to work at the quarry had found Keith's body in the excavation site.

Ray had been there all morning, along with the forensic technicians from the Alabama Bureau of Investigations. Keith's body had been taken away for an autopsy. It was pretty clear what had killed him, but there were things they needed to a.s.sess. Whether or not there had been a struggle prior to his fall. Drugs, alcohol. Stuff that small-town chiefs like Ray didn't usually have to deal with.

Not since Heather Baker.

He'd just left Violet's house.

Ray sat down behind his desk and put his face in his hands. Things had been simmering toward this boil ever since Clint was released. The fight Sat.u.r.day night was no surprise considering the tension eating at the whole town.

Ray had sent Mike Caruthers to pick up Clint from the re pair shop and bring him in for questioning. Ray hated like h.e.l.l to do it, but he didn't have an option. The whole town would consider Clint a prime suspect. h.e.l.l, any chief of po lice worth his salt would be a fool not to.

Except that Ray knew things that no one else did.

Troy and his buddies were being rounded up as well. Everybody at Violet's party had been talking about the tension between Troy and Keith. Usually Troy knew when Keith was at all times. Violet had said she'd called Troy last night and he claimed he had no idea what Keith was up to Sounded d.a.m.ned fishy to Ray.

That was the thing. When a rich guy like Keith went missing, you worried about kidnapping and ransom. Some times kidnappings went wrong. But Ray knew in his gut that money had nothing to do with this. This was about the past.

Shouting outside his door jerked Ray's head up. The door flew open and Granville Turner stormed in, Mary Alice right behind him trying hard to talk him out of interrupting.

Too late.

"It's okay, Mary Alice."

She nodded, then closed the door as she left.

"There's nothing else I can tell you right now, Granville." Ray pushed to his feet, feeling immensely sorry for the man Despite all the water that had gone under the bridge between them, and there had been plenty, Ray couldn't help the sympathy he felt.

Granville towered in front of Ray's desk. Wouldn't have sat down had he invited him to. "You can tell me if you've hauled Clint Austin in yet. I want to know if that b.a.s.t.a.r.d has an alibi."

"Mike is on his way in with him right now. I'm going to question him as well as anyone else who a.s.sociated with Keith on a regular basis and who might have had some idea what he was doing at the quarry."

"It's Austin," Granville said, his usual boisterous voice a dull roar. "I know it's him. I want you to get that sonofab.i.t.c.h, Ray; I don't care what it takes."

"I'll question him just like everybody else of interest to this case."

"You told me you would take care of this." Granville's eyes glittered with unshed tears. "That I had nothing to worry about. Now my son is dead." He shook a finger at Ray and blinked away all signs of vulnerability. "I own you, Ray Hale, lock, stock, and barrel; don't you forget it. I saw that you moved up the ranks... got the position of chief. You owe me."

That was truer than Ray would have liked to admit, but there were things that Ray knew, too. Things that could take Granville back down a notch or two, but not now. This was too personal and too painful for Ray to take that hard line with the man under the circ.u.mstances.

"I will find out how this happened," Ray promised, "and when I do you'll be the first to know."

"There's no way that b.a.s.t.a.r.d could have known..."

Granville didn't have to complete the sentence. Ray knew what he meant.

"No," Ray a.s.sured him. "No one else knows." No one needed to. It was too late to right that wrong.

He'd been telling himself that for over ten years; maybe eventually he would believe it.

"I thank G.o.d his mother didn't live to endure this." Granville's voice went shaky on the last.

Ray nodded. Nothing he could say would be enough. This was the kind of tragedy no parent wanted to face. With a final warning to stay on top of this investigation, Granville left with a little less theatrics than when he'd arrived.