Thick as Thieves(61)

“I guess you moving back here kindled interest in these two investigations.”

This wasn’t welcome news, but she smiled as though unbothered by it. “Who besides me would be interested? Not a producer from one of those unsolved mystery TV shows, I hope.”

He laughed. “Naw. Local boy. Ledge Burnet’s his name. He was in here only a few days ago, asking for the same files.”

“Did he say why?”

“Ledge isn’t much of a talker, keeps his business to hisself.”

But he was steeped in hers.



After his brief conversation with Dwayne Hawkins, Rusty passed the desk where the jailer was playing poker on his iPad. Rusty thanked him for letting him in, then left the cell block and took the stairs in favor of the creaky and notoriously slow elevator. He was practically jogging his way down. The day was young, and he was feeling very upbeat about it.

That was, until he saw Arden Maxwell in the lobby chatting with one of the SO’s detectives.

That scenario stopped short Rusty’s fleet-footed tread.

He’d seen Arden from a distance, but never this close. Sizing her up, he’d rate her an eight and a half.

He lurked there on the staircase until she concluded her conversation with the detective and left, taking an official-looking envelope with her. As the detective was on his way back up to his department, he met Rusty on the stairs.

“Morning, Mr. Dyle.”

“Morning.” He tipped his head toward the main doors. “Wasn’t that Arden Maxwell you were talking to?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What was she doing here?”

As the detective explained the nature of her errand, Rusty’s lightheartedness of moments ago began to deflate. The detective must have sensed his displeasure.

He said, “There weren’t any restrictions placed on those reports, Mr. Dyle.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” To make a big to-do would only call attention to his interest. “I’m just wondering why she would want them at this late date. Did she say?”

“No, but I’d guess because of her daddy’s alleged involvement in both cases.”

“That’s probably it. She was just a kid when all that happened. It’s understandable, her wanting to learn what she can.” He tapped the detective on his sleeve. “Thanks for seeing to her. Good public relations.”

He tried to appear unhurried as he continued down the stairs. He exited the building and made his way along the sidewalk to the parking space reserved for him in the row nearest to the building. Arden was moving along the farthest row of the parking lot.

Wanting to catch her before she left, he quickly got into his car and drove it over to where she was unlocking the driver’s door of a blue sedan. As he pulled up behind her car, she came around quickly.

Immediately, Rusty discerned two things about her. One, maybe she deserved a nine for the wreath of hair. It looked like she’d just gotten laid.

Two, his charm would be wasted on her. Her posture was rigid, and her expression was bitchy.

He didn’t let that deter him, however. He enjoyed a challenge.

He put his car in park and got out.



“Ms. Maxwell?”

Arden had recognized the sound of the engine even before she saw the car. Her heart was thudding. Her mouth had gone dry. Trying to keep her breathing under control, she bobbed her head in silent acknowledgment.

“Hi, my name is Rusty Dyle.”

Rusty Dyle? The district attorney. With whom Ledge had a long-standing grudge. Ledge’s description of him had been inflammatory, but regardless of that, she would have instantly mistrusted the man’s toothy smile. Her thoughts were rioting, but she replied to his greeting with as much composure as she could muster.

“How do you do?”

He walked toward her and extended his right hand. She was loath to touch him but shook his hand. Not to do so would have alerted him to her aversion.

He said, “I’d heard you were living here again.”

“How did you recognize me?”

“Actually, I didn’t. As I was leaving the building, the detective you talked to pointed you out and told me who you were. Anyhow, it’s a pleasure to welcome you back to Penton.”

“Thank you.”

“Everybody treating you decent?”

“I can’t complain.”

“Good to know.” He looked around as though assessing the town square. “Things haven’t changed all that much since you and your sister moved away.”

“Some things have changed quite a lot.”

He came back around to her and flashed a grin. “Well, we did finally get a new fire station. And a Taco Bell.”

She was expected to smile; she did so vapidly.

“Let’s see, what year was that?” he said. “When you left, I mean.”

“Two thousand.”

“That long? Geez. That was the year I graduated high school. I guess things have changed. I’m district attorney now.”

“I remember Sheriff Dyle.”

He placed his hand over his heart. “My dear ol’ dad. He died a while back.”

“He sticks in my memory because he questioned my sister and me after our father disappeared.”

“Oh, hell. Sorry about that. That whole business.”