In the Clearing (Tracy Crosswhite #3)(38)

Little remained of the Golden Gloves boxer Buzz Almond had described in his report as looking “like a Hawaiian surfer.” Moore had fought as a welterweight, which had a weight limit of 147 pounds. The man before her was considerably heavier, with fleshy features and nub-short gray hair.

“Tracy Crosswhite,” she said.

“élan said you would be stopping by.”

“You two still talk?” Tracy said.

“No,” Moore said, shaking his head. “We don’t.”

“Getting kind of dark for gardening,” Tracy said.

Moore glanced at the house. “I have a wife and two girls. They don’t know anything about Kimi. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“I understand. I saw a bar in town.”

“I don’t drink.”

Tracy recalled Moore’s Triple I criminal background check and the lack of any convictions after 1982. “How long have you been sober?”

“Twenty years.”

“Congratulations. How about coffee?”

“Can’t drink it at night. Keeps me awake. Let’s go for a drive. I know a place.” Moore left the shovel on the lawn, walked around the bed of Tracy’s truck, and got in the cab. “Head back out to the main road. There’s a park,” he said. “I take my kids there.”

Three turns later they came to an open field with a playground structure. At the moment, the park was deserted. Tracy shut off the engine, keeping her right hand near her Glock, though Moore showed no signs of aggression. To the contrary, he looked and sounded tired.

“You mind if I smoke?” Moore asked.

“Let’s step outside.” She walked around the hood to where Moore leaned against the front fender shaking a cigarette from its pack. He pulled it free with his teeth and cupped the tip with his hand to light it. The breeze quickly caught the smoke and caused it to dissipate.

“Not a day goes by I don’t regret going into the diner that night,” Moore said, slipping the cigarettes and lighter into the pocket of his wool-lined jean jacket and looking out at the playground like he’d already mentally slipped forty years into the past.

Tracy thrust her hands into the pockets of her jacket to warm them. “Why did you?”

Moore shot her a lazy glance. “Why do you think? I was angry at Kimi for breaking up with me. She was heading off to college at the end of the year. Said she wanted to spend her final year in high school with her friends, but that wasn’t it.”

“What was it?”

“She could do better.” He shrugged and took another drag.

The wind kicked up the dust and caused the swings to shake and sway on their metal chains. “So why do you think she went out with you in the first place?”

“I was better-looking back then.” Moore smiled, but his smile quickly waned. “You know how it is. I was a boxer, and I played that . . . you know? The brooding, silent type. I was also older, and élan put in a good word. That doesn’t work for long on girls like Kimi.”

“You told Buzz Almond the breakup was mutual.”

He flicked the ashes. “Who’s Buzz Almond?”

“The deputy who came and interviewed you.”

“I probably did. But that was just pride talking. I probably also told him I didn’t care about her. That was also pride. I wouldn’t have gone into the diner that night if I hadn’t cared.”

“What happened?”

“I was mad, so I took a girl in with me, thinking I’d get even.”

“Cheryl Neal?” Tracy said, recalling the name from the file.

“That’s right. She and Kimi didn’t get along. Cheryl was a cheerleader and had a reputation of sleeping around, and she didn’t much care for Kimi.”

“Why not?”

Moore took another drag on his cigarette, the tip glowing red. He didn’t exhale, just let the smoke escape his mouth and nostrils. “Jealous,” he said. “Like I said, Kimi was smart and athletic. She had a lot of guy friends, without having to sleep with them.” Moore’s gaze was focused on the ground. “Kimi acted like it didn’t even bother her when I walked in with Cheryl. And that just made me more angry.” Moore glanced at Tracy. “I was angry a lot back then, at just about everyone and everything. My job. My boxing career. It didn’t take a lot to set me off.”

“Did Kimi set you off that night?”

Moore didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, she did. I grabbed Cheryl and left. Took her home. I didn’t even walk her to the door.”

“Where’d you go?”

“A bar in Husum.”

“You told Buzz Almond you went back to your apartment.”

“I was twenty, and I’d already had one DUI. Another one and I’d have lost my license and probably my job. I made it back to the apartment, but my roommate said élan and some of the others had come by looking for me, that Kimi was missing. I didn’t like the sound of that, so I left for my mom’s. She lived here on the rez. But I drank too much, and I fell asleep and smashed my truck into a tree.”

Tracy felt another gust of wind and a chill on her neck that ran down her spine. “Was there a police report?”

“I wasn’t about to call the police. I got the truck running enough to get to my mom’s and spent the weekend banging it out so I could get back. I had to work Monday.”