Deadly Heat (Deadly #2)(60)

A couple of fast nods.

“You like trucks, don’t you?”

Another nod.

“What color do you like best on your trucks?”

“B-blue.”

“I like that, too.” A beat of silence. “What color was the truck you saw tonight?”

Bob scratched his head. “Dark. Couldn’t see.”

Because that area had been piss black.

“But you were able to see… someone, right?”

His tongue swiped over his lips. “Heard ’im talkin’. Laughin’.”

“And when you heard him, you went closer, didn’t you?”

A nod. “H-he was close to the light.”

“That’s what you told Agent Lake.” She smiled again. Weird seeing that big, fake-friendly smile on Monica. “And you saw a man?”

“With a hat—” Bob said in a rush. “A baseball h-hat. Cathy and me—we… we always liked the games.”

Cathy, his dead wife.

“She got me a cap like that once.” He reached for the coffee, and some of the dark liquid jostled over the side. “But I don’t like the Braves.”

Monica leaned forward. “Did that guy like the Braves?”

“Big A.” Another nod. “That’s what was… on his c-cap. Big A.”

“Tell me more about him.”

“I don’t…” Bob trailed off.

“Was he tall? Short?”

But Bob just shook his head now.

“Thin? Was he about your size, Bob?”

Bob wasn’t answering now. Just staring down into the coffee.

Kenton exhaled. One long damn night.

“You think old Bob even knows where he is?” Jon asked, scratching his chin.

But just then, Bob looked up. “I want to see C-Cathy—tell ’er to come in. I want to go to a game…”

Kenton’s fist hit the wall. “Probably not.”


Kenton marched into Interrogation, closed the door, and waited.

“Bob.” Monica touched his hand.

He flinched.

“Bob, look at Agent Lake.”

His gaze darted to him.

“The man you saw, the man in the baseball cap…” Her voice was soft and easy. “Was he bigger than Agent Lake?”

Kenton stared back at him, keeping his face expressionless.

“N-no.”

“Good. That’s good.” Her hand withdrew. “Smaller?”

“N-no.” Bob licked his lips. “H-his s-size.”

“Did you see the man’s face?” She paused a beat, letting the guy think, then asked, “Can you tell me—”

“Cap… low… didn’t see…”

Monica cocked her head. “You saw his phone, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“I want you to think about his phone for me, Bob. Think about his hand. You saw him holding the phone, right?”

A quick nod.

“Good. That’s good.” She waited another beat. “What did his hand look like? Was i—”

“White.” He stared at his own hand. “Like… mine.”

So they were looking for a Caucasian, about six foot two, one-eighty to two hundred pounds. A guy who liked to wear a Braves ball cap and liked to drive a truck. But judging by the number of trucks Kenton had seen since arriving in town, a lot of men in this area liked to drive them.

Certainly not the best description, but better than nothing.

They’d already checked all the traffic cameras located in the fire zones, but their perp had been smart. He hadn’t shown up once, probably because the bastard knew exactly where those cameras were placed.

He’s sticking to the back roads and alleys. The guy knows this town.

“I want to go h-home.” Bob’s fist suddenly slammed into the table. “Cathy! I want to go home!”

Monica’s lips tightened. “I know you do.”

Tears leaked from his eyes. “Where’s Cathy?”

Monica shoved back her chair. “Kenton, let’s go outside.”

Bob put his head down and covered his ears. His shoulders shook.

Monica waited until the door closed behind them and then started shaking her head. “He can’t handle any more. We push again, the guy is just going to break.”

Reality had a way of doing that to a man. The longer Bob stayed sober and coherent, the more he realized what the hell had happened to him.

And that Cathy wasn’t coming to take him home.

“I’ve got a call in to the VA. They’ll be here, probably around eight tomorrow. We’ll get his doctor, see about getting him medicated, contact any family he’s got…” She shrugged. “Maybe we’ll be able to get more then.”

Or maybe not.

Kenton sighed. It was closing in on 2:00 A.M. They might as well pack it in. Their witness was sure done.

He rubbed the thick knot of tension in the back of his neck. “We’ll come back after the doc checks him out tomorrow.” After they gave him the care that the guy obviously needed.

Monica reached for Kenton’s arm. Her fingers brushed against him. “We have more now.”