For You (The 'Burg #1)(42)

Not that there was much to say outside of what he already told Colt at the bank. She was a dependable employee, he could count on one hand when her drawer came up not balanced at the end of the day, she was just social enough to be liked by her colleagues but not social enough to call any of them friends and mostly she kept to herself.

“So shy, it’s ridiculous. It’s a miracle she can talk to the customers,” Dave said. “Don’t even know if she has any friends, never talks about them or what she does on the weekend. Know she’s close to her Mom and Dad but they live in Arizona now. Think she collects butterflies because all the girls get her shit with butterflies on it if they’re her Secret Santa or crap like that. Seriously, Colt, she’s so f**king shy, I’m surprised she’d walk into J&J’s without getting hives.” He hesitated before saying, “Damn shame. She’s fine. Pretty little thing, everyone thinks so.”

That sounded like Amy. He hadn’t paid much attention but what he could remember, that was the way she was in school too.

It also sounded strange in a way Colt didn’t f**king like when people were getting murdered and Feb and his necks were on the line.

And last, with no friends and no family close, it meant, unfortunately, he had no leads on Amy.

He heard the key in the door and he knew Feb was home.

The minute she entered, her cat deserted Colt and walked across the room, still purring.

He heard the rings on her hand sliding on the wall as she searched for the light switch and then the outside lights went out. Feb wore silver at her neck and ears, often at her wrists and she wore it on her hands too, always had on a variety of silver rings, could be a few fingers, could be almost all of them.

He wondered if she wore those rings to bed.

The purring escalated and moved and Colt knew Feb had picked up her cat and was on the move too.

She was in the hall when he heard her whisper to her cat, “Quiet, Mr. Purrsie Purrs. I know you’re glad I’m home.”

Jesus, she called her cat “Mr. Purrsie Purrs”. Colt didn’t know much about cats but he knew hers wasn’t a stupid one and if the damn thing understood English and recognized this affront to his dignity he’d scratch her eyes out.

She closed the door to the bedroom but the house hadn’t been built out of high quality material, you could hear everything. Therefore he heard the toilet flush and the tap in the basin switch on and off, on and off, on and off, washing her hands probably her face, brushing her teeth.

Then silence and he knew she’d climbed into his bed.

“Christ,” he muttered in the dark.

His phone on the coffee table rang and vibrated, both loudly, and he shifted and snatched it up, seeing Sully’s name on the display before flipping it open and putting it to his ear.

“Sully.”

“I wake you?”

“Nope.”

Sully was quiet then he said, “Shit, Colt, we got another one.”

Colt closed his eyes and sat up in the couch. “Talk to me.”

“Guy’s name is Butch Miller. From the history Feb gave yesterday, she’d worked at his bar years ago. Idaho Springs, Colorado. His body was found by his girlfriend. The minute it hit the system, it came up with big, honking ping. Warren and Rodman are already on a plane.”

“God dammit,” Colt swore. “I’m guessin’ it’s the same MO.”

“Down to the letter to Pete’s,” Sully told him, “including the tulips and the frickin’ Pottery Barn vase. Means this guy did Pete, came up here, did Angie, spent the last two days takin’ a road trip and did this Butch guy.”

“Also means he knows her better than we expected, he’s goin’ after folks from the last seventeen years, not just folks in town,” Colt replied.

“Yep.”

“This is not good,” Colt stated the obvious.

“This is not good,” Sully repeated.

“Are you getting anywhere?”

“Lore’s in town and has been without leaving, alibis for every move he makes. You know Lore, he’s not much into bein’ alone.”

This wasn’t a surprise. “What about the other three?”

“Two, we’ve had conversations with. They’re unlikely. Denny Lowe, though, right now is prime suspect.”

Colt thought about Denny Lowe.

Denny had lived in that town most of his life. Pipsqueak of a kid, no meat on him, always had greasy hair, grew up late, took a whole helluva lot of shit in the meantime and was teased viciously, mostly by Susie Shepherd and her gang. But when he grew, he grew. Susie had graduated by then but everyone was shocked at how he’d turned out. Good-looking guy, not tall, average height, built lean but tough. He was painfully shy like Amy, but once he came into his own, he seemed to shake it off. He wasn’t the most popular kid in school but he wasn’t a whack job either. Sully’s search into him showed he’d gone to Northwestern and got out doing something with computers, moved home, making a mint, lived on The Heritage in a big house off the golf course with a wife, no kids. Colt didn’t see him much, sometimes at Frank’s having dinner with his wife, sometimes at the grocery store, again always with his wife, a couple of times at the liquor store, not with his wife.

He’d been in J&J’s but he was nowhere near a regular. Colt hadn’t seen him there in years. Definitely not since Feb got back.