Wolfhunter River (Stillhouse Lake #3)(61)

Sparks gets a phone call. His conversation is brisk and brief, and I look back toward the interview room where Vee Crockett is being unlocked from the table. She lifts her head and looks at me, and in that instant, I do know.

I know that Vee Crockett didn’t kill her mom. It’s a gut-deep judgment. I don’t like the kid; she’s got a boatload of problems to deal with, and the weird crush she seems to have on my daughter makes me deeply nervous. But I’m looking at a girl in shock, reacting in strange and unpredictable ways. Underneath that is deep, traumatic pain. I can see it.

“Ms. Proctor?”

Sparks is suddenly beside me. I hadn’t heard him coming, and it makes me flinch in surprise. I see him note it, but he doesn’t apologize.

“What are your plans now?”

“Grab my kids and Sam, get out of town,” I tell him. “I did what I said I’d do. I helped get Vera to talk to you. You have her story now.”

He seems relieved, which is somehow not what I expected; I’d thought he would have been desperate for more help. But he doesn’t ask. He just nods.

“Well, drive safely,” he says. “I wish you the best of luck, Ms. Proctor.”

“You too,” I say. “What do you think her chances are?”

“Better than her mother’s were,” he says.

I don’t like it. I don’t like how unengaged he seems. A fifteen-year-old deserves more than that. I can tell by the look on Lanny’s face that she feels the same.

Sparks goes ahead of us. Watching him, Lanny says, “We don’t have to leave today, do we?”

I don’t answer her, but inside, I’m thinking maybe there’s one more stop we could make to get a few things cleared up.

Problem is, I think that nobody in this town’s going to welcome me, or my questions.



There’s no sign of Fairweather when we emerge from the cell area and head back down the dull office hallway. Not in the reception area either. So once we’re in the car and have the AC going to mitigate the stifling heat, I take my new phone and dial his number.

“Fairweather,” he answers.

“Proctor,” I respond. “Sorry. New number. I apologize I didn’t have time to talk earlier—”

“That’s kind of you, ma’am, but things have changed. I’ve been reassigned.”

“Reassigned?” I go blank for a second. “But . . . you just got started.”

“I’m sorry to tell you that sometimes that’s just how this goes. The evidence stacks up and stands on its own. We don’t have any other suspects than Vee Crockett. Given that, my lieutenant is pulling me off to work the Ellie White kidnapping, so I’ll be out of Wolfhunter in a couple of hours.”

“But—”

“Ms. Proctor, I know you kind of have a personal stake in this. But nothing you told me in your statement gives me any reason to believe Vee Crockett didn’t kill her mother. On the contrary, it leans toward the idea she did.”

“She just told me she fell over her mother’s body in the dark,” I blurt out. I know I shouldn’t disclose that; it’s attorney-client information. But I know, for some gut-deep reason, that I do not want Fairweather to leave this case. Not yet. “It explains the blood on her clothes. Her trauma explains why she picked up the gun and fired it at the noise outside. She was terrified, Detective.”

He’s silent a moment. “Does it occur to you that she might have tailored that explanation to fit the evidence we found on her?”

“Yes. But when I was on the phone with her . . .”

“You said she sounded disconnected. Like she didn’t care about her dead mother.”

“I know I did. But detachment like that can be a side effect of severe shock. Remember the case of the girl in Texas whose whole family was killed by an intruder? She coped by going out and feeding the farm animals. People cope. I think Vera did it by shutting off any kind of emotions. It looks bad that she was probably high and drunk, but it also helps explain her off-center reactions.”

“Maybe,” he says. “But you’re talking about theories. I deal in evidence.”

I shift a little, not daring to look at my daughter. “If I find some, will you follow up on it?”

“I can’t make you any promises. I’ve got a kidnapped child to find. Vera Crockett might be a lost cause, you know that.”

“Maybe,” I agree. “But I’m not the kind who gives up.”

He sounds briefly amused. “Yeah, I certainly see that. I can’t promise anything.”

“Did you ever talk to anyone at Marlene’s job?” I ask.

“Marlene worked in the garage pretty much alone, answering phones and doing paperwork,” he answers. “Nothing there. She wasn’t popular in town. Not a lot of friends.”

“Why not?”

“Her daughter’s behavior, for one thing, but before that, her grandfather swindled a bunch of people back in the sixties.”

“Grandfather.”

“Small towns,” he says. “Long memories.”

“I’m guessing the whole reason you were sent to take charge of this case is that the TBI has zero confidence in the abilities of the Wolfhunter PD. This girl still needs your help.”