No One But You (Silver Springs #2)(45)
“Guy came in here a few weeks after the murder. I’d just served him a drink when some news piece about the crime came on TV, a clip where you described the man you thought killed your parents. He looked a little startled. Then he said he’d seen a homeless-looking dude who matched that description at the same service station the night before your parents were murdered.”
Dawson’s heart began to pound against his chest. “Did he have any interaction with the guy? Could he provide a name or...or where the guy was from?”
“Doubt they even talked. Didn’t sound like it.”
But he could corroborate that the hitchhiker existed. So far, no one had even been able to do that much, not that the police had tried very hard to find the person Dawson felt certain was responsible for killing his folks. Detective Garbo had been too determined to get a conviction, to be able to say he solved this gruesome case, and he had a much greater chance of doing that with Dawson than some stranger who might not have had any believable motive. “Do you know the guy’s name who came in here?”
“Don’t think he ever mentioned it. But I know he lives in Santa Barbara. I remember talking about it because I’d like to move there myself one day.”
“What was he doing here?”
“Said he had a job building a bunker out on Alex Hardy’s property.”
“A bunker.”
“Yeah. Alex is a bit of a survivalist.”
“Maybe Alex has his name.”
“He could’ve kept it, or he should have some paperwork on that bunker somewhere. I told the guy he should go to the police and tell them what he told me. When he left here, he acted as if he was on his way.”
But Dawson had already been arrested at that point. With the police convinced they had the right man, why would they pay some stranger from Santa Barbara any attention? If Dawson had his guess, they hadn’t even bothered to take a report.
Dawson wanted to head out to Alex’s place right now. He finally had something—small thread though it was—to pursue on the strange man he’d fought with on the night that changed everything. But it was after eleven. He, of all people, had no business approaching someone’s house that late. The police had already made him out to be some sort of psychopath. Tomorrow would have to be soon enough.
But it wasn’t going to be easy to wait.
*
Sadie hadn’t heard from Sly all day. After she got Jayden to bed, she poured herself a glass of the wine she’d opened for Dawson and turned on the TV. But she wasn’t paying much attention to the program she was watching. She didn’t have cable or satellite, so her choices were limited to begin with. She kept glancing at her phone, wondering why Sly hadn’t asked what she was doing tonight. On a Friday. He always seemed particularly interested in what she might be up to on a weekend, was so afraid she might start seeing another man.
She replayed their argument in her head again. He didn’t like to lose. He found it embarrassing, demeaning—a statement that he wasn’t everything he pretended to be. So...he’d never let her have the last word.
If you think I’ll ever let you divorce me, you have another think coming. That statement—the way he’d said it—gave her chills because she believed that far more than this uncharacteristic silence.
If it weren’t so late, she would’ve called her mother-in-law to ask if Marliss would like to see Jayden this weekend. Sadie tried to take him by once a week, just to show good faith—that she wasn’t trying to deny Sly or his family contact with their own flesh and blood. Marliss always treated her coolly, which made their encounters awkward, but Sly’s mother had heard only his side of what had gone wrong in their marriage—and he blamed her. Sadie didn’t think she could expect any more, so she tried not to get upset by how their relationship had suffered. Most mothers were blind to their children’s faults. Sadie knew she’d never convince Marliss that Sly was so controlling and abusive; she just thought if she could talk to Marliss, Marliss might mention that Sly was sick or something to explain his sudden and complete silence.
Would you like to see Jayden this weekend? I could drop him off for a few hours if you’re not working.
Sadie typed that message to Sly instead of his mother but couldn’t bring herself to send it. Jayden wouldn’t welcome that idea, and she couldn’t throw him under the bus just because she was going out of her mind trying to figure out what Sly was up to. Besides, as worried as she was on the one hand, the silence was kind of nice on the other. She hated to break it.
She watched a couple of programs, which helped occupy her mind. Hoping that she’d finally be able to sleep, she got up to shut off the TV and set her glass in the sink. That was when her mind returned to Dawson, but she immediately steered her thoughts away. What she’d been dreaming about last night had been crazy. She wasn’t interested in her boss. She was just lonely—so lonely that she wasn’t making good decisions.
She’d left the light on in the bedroom so she wouldn’t have to get ready for bed in the dark. Light didn’t seem to bother Jayden. He could sleep with it on, and sometimes did until she joined him.
After she changed into a tank top and sweatpants, she read for twenty minutes or so before turning out the light. She was just drifting off, was almost asleep, when she heard three distinct thumps on the side of the house. She was so tired, she tried to ignore the noise, but then she heard it again—louder and more insistent.