Texas Outlaw (Rory Yates #2)(35)

“What about Alex Hartley? His name keeps coming up in this.”

Dale looks to Walt again. Walt shakes his head subtly, as if to say, Don’t do it. My instinct tells me not to push, and it turns out I’m right.

“Coach has a secret,” Dale says, “but it ain’t what you think.”

Walt takes a deep breath, resigned to the revelation of Alex’s secret—whatever it is. “Alex Hartley wasn’t sleeping with Susan Snyder,” he says. “Alex is impotent.”

The two explain that Coach Hartley is diabetic and consequently suffers from erectile dysfunction. Susan went out on friendly dates with Alex to keep up the pretense that he was a socially active single man.

“Don’t they have Viagra for that?” I ask.

“Doesn’t work for everyone,” Walt says.

“This is West Texas and he’s the football coach,” Dale says. “He’s supposed to be tough. Manly. He didn’t want people gossiping, saying, ‘Coach can’t get it in the end zone.’”

“It’s nobody’s business,” I say. “Why would people even wonder about that?”

“He’s a good-looking guy and this is a small town,” Walt says. “If he’s not married or getting some, people start to talk.”

“You know how people are about football in this state,” Dale says. “Lose one game you’re supposed to win, and people look for any cruel thing to say behind your back.”

“I think what he worried about most is the locker room,” Walt says. “Kids say mean things they grow up to regret. He didn’t want to put them in a position to do something stupid.”

“How do you know all this?” I ask.

“His classroom’s right next to mine,” Walt says, then nods to Dale. “Plus, the three of us play poker every other week. We’re a close group.”

“Who else plays?”

They list some names I haven’t heard before—more people Ariana and I probably need to interview. Before this case is over, we might have a statement from everyone in town.

“Now, Rory,” Walt says, “don’t go thinking that Alex Hartley murdered Susan because she was going to blow his cover. They were friends. Alex’s secret is not one worth killing someone over.”

I thank them for their honesty. But what I’m thinking is that, for the first time, I’ve found someone who seems to have a motive to keep Susan Snyder silent.

If Hartley was willing to lie to our faces during our interrogation, what else is he willing to do?





Chapter 46



THE NEXT MORNING, Ariana comes to work an hour late. This adds to my impatience at playing the waiting game.

We find out Alex Hartley is in El Paso seeing a diabetes specialist and won’t return for a few days. Skip Barnes is delivering a load of petroleum and won’t be back until tomorrow. We still don’t know if he’s talked to a lawyer.

“I’ve got an idea,” I say to Ariana. “Let’s drive out to the open space.”

As we’re about to head out of the station, the chief asks us where we’re going.

“Why do you want to know?” I snap. “So you can keep Carson McCormack informed?”

“As chief of police,” he says, “I need to be kept in the loop of this investigation.”

Ariana stands in silence as everyone in the station turns to look at us. When this case is over and I drive off into the sunset, she’s still going to have to work with the guy.

“Either you start cooperating,” Harris says to me, “or I’ll call your lieutenant and tell him you’re out of line. I’ll request a different Ranger.”

I’m burning mad, and I can’t stop myself from directing my frustration over the case toward the chief.

“You want to be kept in the loop?” I say. “Here’s the loop. Before Susan Snyder died, she made two phone calls. One was to Tom Aaron telling him that she had a big story for him—and not to trust anyone. The second was to Ariana.” I gesture toward her. “Susan told Ariana the same thing. Only she gave a specific name of who not to trust. Can you guess who that person is?”

Harris looks around, hyperaware of all of his employees staring at us.

“In my office,” he says, his voice simmering. “Now.”

Ariana and I follow him inside. None of us sits. But as he paces behind his desk, his anger seems to deflate by the second.

“Is that true?” Harris says to Ariana. “She said not to trust me?”

“She said she wasn’t sure if you could be trusted,” Ariana admits. “That’s why I pushed so hard to bring in the Rangers.”

Harris’s office is as sparse as Tom Aaron’s was disorganized. A Texas state flag hangs on one wall, and a mule deer mount flanked by two good-sized trout mounts decorates the wall space above his chair. A framed photo of George H. W. Bush rests on the desk.

“I’ll be honest with you,” Harris says. “Susan and I dated when I first got to town. Not really dated. Just, you know, hooked up.”

I don’t say anything, but what I’m thinking is that after debunking one person of interest’s story about sleeping with Susan Snyder, it’s unlikely that the chief’s would hold up any better under scrutiny.