All He Has Left(38)
“How do you mean?”
“I’m honestly not sure. Caitlin said Piper thought she remembered a guy being there right after the crash. Piper was kind of freaked out about the whole thing. My daughter wanted to know if I knew anything about the guy.”
“Do you?”
“No, I don’t. Didn’t recall ever seeing him before. But my brother Steve was standing there with me when this happened and might know something.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He acted like he might recognize the guy and said he’d look into it.”
“Have you talked to Steve about it?”
“I tried calling him a few minutes ago but didn’t get him. I doubt it’s anything, but you said to reach out if we thought of anything, big or small.”
“Correct. Do you happen to have the photo Caitlin shared with you?”
“Yes, I do. You want me to text it over?”
“Please.”
“Sending now.”
A few seconds later, Dani was staring at a guy probably in his twenties with a goatee who wore a black T-shirt, blue jeans, and cowboy boots. The photo showed him carrying a stack of folding chairs. He looked kind of rough around the edges.
“Caitlin really loved working for the FBI,” Carl said, suddenly musing. “Every time we talked to her about it, she just lit up. She felt so certain it was her future.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to know her personally. People are speaking highly of her around here today.”
“Yeah.” He sighed deeply. “Please let me know if this thing with the photo turns out to be anything.”
“I will. Thank you again.”
Carl hung up. Dani grabbed a small notepad from the table where she’d jotted down phone numbers for various Kingston family members last night. She found one for Steve Kingston and dialed him. It rang four times and then went to voice mail. She left a brief message asking him to call her back. Then she stared at the photo again. Who are you? And why was Piper Slater freaking out about you?
TWENTY-SIX
Eddie watched the local cable newscast with a small smile on his face while sitting on the couch, smoking a joint inside his mother’s trailer. The old lady was out picking up some lunch from a nearby burger place. A news story had just broken about another person found shot and killed inside a house in South Austin. The police suspected it was at the hands of the same man whom they were searching for in connection with the death of Caitlin Kingston last night: Jake Slater. Eddie had no clue how the two deaths were connected, but he felt that the more heat put on someone else—and not on him—the better. He was beginning to think they just might be able to get away with this whole thing.
But they still had the problem with the girl. Her face had also been on TV. What the hell were they supposed to do with her? Eddie wanted to get rid of her ASAP. Maybe not kill her, but possibly drive her down south across the Mexico border and sell her off. Eddie knew certain people who were connected to that type of thing. She was a pretty young girl—he for sure knew he could make a lot of money. And from what he’d heard, a girl traded across the Mexico border never made it back to the United States. At least not alive. But his mother refused to budge on it. The old lady still felt like the girl was a critical trump card should they be forced into needing one.
Eddie heard his mother’s car return outside. The old lady stepped inside the trailer carrying two small food bags with her. She tossed one over to him on the couch. There was grease from the burger and fries soaking through the bottom of the paper bag. Eddie was starving. He ripped it open and quickly tore into his cheeseburger.
“You seen this yet?” he asked his mother, nodding at the TV news.
“Yeah, I seen it,” she acknowledged. The old lady was already pouring herself a new round of whiskey. “Makes me nervous.”
“Why?”
“Who is this guy? He’s a wild card. Why’s he out there killing people?”
“Who cares?” Eddie replied. “Keeps the police off us.”
“I don’t know. Makes me uneasy.”
“They pin it all on him, we’re able to walk away.”
“Maybe.”
The old lady downed her whiskey and poured herself another. Eddie chomped into his cheeseburger, and it shot grease across his fingers. Grabbing the TV remote, he flipped the channel over to a football game. Dolphins and Packers. They both turned toward the door when they heard another car pull up right outside the trailer. They weren’t expecting company. The old lady rushed over and peered through the blinds.
“It’s Beth,” his mother said.
Eddie cursed, stood. “What the hell is she doing here? She’s supposed to stay away from us until this is over.”
“I don’t know. But she looks really upset.”
His mother opened the door to the trailer and let her hysterically crying daughter inside. Eddie’s sister was twenty-five and, in the words of his buddies, a real knockout. Long blonde hair and curvy in all the right places. He’d gotten into a lot of fistfights with friends over the years who had tried to make moves on his hot little sister. But she didn’t look like a knockout right now. Beth was a mess. Her face was smeared with makeup from all the crying. This wasn’t good.