In the Clearing (Tracy Crosswhite #3)(97)

Eric moved the bins around until he found the one that said “Hunting Equipment.” He snapped off the top and directed the light inside. His father’s hunting boots stood neatly inside, newspaper stuffed into each leg to keep the boots straight.





CHAPTER 34


Tracy watched Eric Reynolds exit the carport. She stood in the road just beside her truck. Reynolds didn’t startle at the sight of her, as if he’d been expecting her to be there. Maybe he’d come to his father’s house just to get the boots, but then his father had opened the door. Tracy could tell from the two men’s body language that they were having a conversation they should have had forty years earlier. There were no hugs, no handshakes, no displays of affection or warmth of any kind. They kept their distance. Physically, it was just a few feet, but clearly it was a much greater divide. The conversation had been short, which meant there had been no denials, no arguing, no attempts to explain. Each man had done what he’d done and had lived with the consequences of his decision.

Though Eric Reynolds didn’t wear a jacket, he did not look cold. He held up the hunting boots.

“Photographs revealed two sets of tire tracks in and out,” Tracy said. “Someone came back, alone, and moved her. I couldn’t reconcile that being any of the four of you. You would have done it together. And even if it had been you, there was no reason for you to change your shoes, no reason to go home and put on boots and come back. It was snowing, but you wouldn’t have considered that, not under the circumstances. Then there were the two cash receipts. Seven hundred dollars would have been more than a high school student playing football would have had readily available, even if all four of you had pooled your resources. Nor did I see any of you having the foresight to ask for a cash receipt. Lionel did your father a favor, but he wasn’t about to do it for free, and I’m guessing your father wanted the receipt in case Lionel ever got squirrely—to remind Lionel that he, too, was now involved.”

“He thought that way,” Eric said. “Details. Never a loose end. He thought that it had come back to bite him in the ass when Lionel called to tell him the deputy had come and gotten the two invoices. Lionel’s mother was the bookkeeper. She had no idea. She just made him copies. My father determined that the deputy had also been the man who’d come out to look at the car, acting like he wanted to buy it. We waited for the other shoe to drop, but then nothing more came of it. Later, when Lionel became chief, my dad asked him to look into it, whether there was an open investigation. Lionel found the file, and I thought he’d destroyed it, but I guess I was wrong.” He glanced back at the house. “What will happen now?”

“The sheriff will turn everything over to the county prosecutor. He’ll decide what charges to file.”

“What happened wasn’t Hastey’s fault—or Darren’s or Archie’s. It was mine. Hastey has suffered enough.”

“That will all get sorted out,” she said. “The gun on the table at your house . . .”

Eric Reynolds nodded. “I take it out just about every night, and just about every night I’ve thought about it, but I can never do it. I clean it and put it back in the safe. I’m a coward,” he said. “Maybe I knew all along this day would come. Maybe I was hoping it would. I want people to know the truth. As strange as it sounds, it’s a relief.”

“I’m going to need to take that gun, Eric. And any others you own.”

“I understand. I’m worried about my dogs.”

“We can go back to your house so you can get your things in order—send out e-mails or make phone calls. I’ll call the sheriff; she’s a friend of mine. I’ll tell her that you’ve agreed to come in voluntarily. After we go back to your house, I’ll take you to the sheriff’s office and get a statement. We’ll keep this all very civilized. You’ll be taken into custody, and the process will play itself out.”

“And my father?”

“He’ll be taken into custody also.” Tracy paused and looked at the house.

“Don’t worry, Detective. He’s not going to kill himself either. Ron Reynolds’s ego would never allow him to admit that he’s finally lost.”





CHAPTER 35


Tracy debated placing Eric Reynolds in handcuffs but decided against it. She followed him back to his house, calling Jenny on the way. She told her she was escorting Eric Reynolds to his house so he could arrange care for his pets and get his affairs in order. Jenny and the other unit would arrest Ron Reynolds and meet them at the West End office, where both men would be booked and Eric would provide a full statement. They doubted Ron Reynolds would say anything.

Tracy and Eric entered his house together, the dogs jumping up to greet him, Blue barking at her. Tears pooled in the man’s eyes. The dogs must have been the only family he’d had for many years.

They crossed the living area and entered the den. The flat-screen television was black. The .45 was no longer on the poker table.

“I must have put it away,” Eric said.

As Eric started for the large gun safe in the corner of the room, the two dogs, who never strayed far from his side, suddenly did a one-eighty and started barking. At nearly the same moment, as Tracy’s mind processed the situation, a voice came from the doorway on the other side of the den, which led out to the backyard.