Secrets Never Die (Morgan Dane #5)(30)

“Was he?” the sheriff asked.

“No.” Tina shook her head. “I would never take Kirk back. He’s a thoroughly nasty man. However, he can put on a charming front for a short period of time when he needs to.”

“In what way was he nasty?” the sheriff asked.

“He insulted me every day, telling me I was ugly and stupid. He threw temper tantrums and broke things. He screamed and yelled, always stopped just short of physical abuse. I think he knew that’s where I would draw the line. Plus, he was allergic to work. He was always scheming to avoid getting a real job. It was ironic that he called Paul a gold digger, as if Paul and I were rolling in money.”

“Was money tight?” the sheriff asked.

“Not tight, but we lived on a budget.” Tina frowned. “We have Paul’s pension and my income. He considered getting a job, but he has a lot of lower back pain from wearing a duty belt all those years. Plus, he really wanted to be at home so he could spend time with Evan.”

The extra twenty pounds of awkward equipment on a duty belt could do a number on a cop’s back over the course of a career, especially if he spent many hours sitting in a patrol car.

“Why did you stay with Kirk?” the sheriff asked.

Tina lifted one shoulder. “I thought that’s the way all men were. But the first couple of weeks after he went to prison were the most peaceful of my life, and I decided Evan and I were much better off alone.”

The sheriff tapped his pointer finger on his file. “But you married Paul not long after that.”

A tear fell from Tina’s face to the table. “As you know, Paul arrested Kirk. But we didn’t see each other again until months later. Paul came into the urgent care for a few stitches.” She wiped her eyes. “A few weeks later, he asked me to dinner. He was so different from Kirk. Paul wanted to take care of me and Evan.” She took a fresh tissue from the box. “Could it have been Kirk? He hated Paul enough.”

The sheriff opened the manila file in front of him and flipped through several papers. “His group home has an eight p.m. curfew unless residents are at work. He swiped his card to check in at seven thirty.”

Lance craned his head, clearly trying to see the sheriff’s papers. “Is there any type of additional monitoring?”

The sheriff rested his arm across the page. “Residents aren’t under house arrest. The curfew, along with a list of other conditions, is set by the home. But the supervisor on duty Monday night confirmed that Kirk came in at seven thirty.”

“Did anyone see him at the home after seven thirty?” Morgan asked.

The sheriff ignored her question, turning back to Tina, which Morgan assumed meant no.

“Tell me more about the relationship between Paul and Evan. Was it rocky from the beginning?” the sheriff asked.

“No. Actually, Paul and Evan didn’t argue often. Most of the time they got along well. Paul took him shooting a few times. He wanted to be a good stepfather. Evan needed a good example in his life. They even went camping last month, and Paul talked about finding a couple of used kayaks.”

“Where did they go camping?” the sheriff asked.

“The woods behind the house,” Tina said. “They left the house on foot with two backpacks.”

The sheriff flipped over his page of notes. “And when was the last time you spoke with Evan?”

“Before I went to work on Monday. Why are you asking me this again?” Suspicion narrowed Tina’s eyes.

“We ask the same questions over and over again, Mrs. Knox. It’s routine. Sometimes witnesses remember more details after the initial shock has worn off.”

Morgan thought it much more likely that the sheriff was trying to catch Tina in a lie.

“Is Tina or Evan a suspect, Sheriff?” Morgan cut to the chase. Working relationship or not, she was tired of the bullshit. The boy had been missing for over nineteen hours.

“Everyone involved with Paul is a suspect until they are cleared.” But the sheriff’s eyes belied his words.

Tina’s head snapped up. Anger and surprise flushed her face. “That’s ridiculous. Evan is just a boy. He would never hurt Paul. My son was probably shot by whoever killed my husband.” Her voice rose, all traces of shakiness gone. “And you are wasting time and resources thinking Evan did it.”

“As I said before, everyone is a suspect.” The sheriff kept his voice calm. “We can’t know Evan’s side of the story until we find him and talk to him.” The sheriff leaned forward. “Why is he hiding from us? Why didn’t he try to get help?”

Tina opened her mouth, then shut it again. Her eyes closed for a second, then opened full of grief. “Maybe he can’t.”

The sheriff sat back and scratched the gray stubble on his chin. “When was the last time you spoke to your father?”

Tina stiffened. “What?”

“Your father.” The sheriff’s eyes gleamed with interest. “It should be an easy question.”

“I haven’t seen my father in twenty-five years,” Tina stammered, clearly blindsided by the question.

“How is Mrs. Knox’s father connected to Paul’s murder?” Morgan asked.

“We don’t know,” the sheriff answered, then continued to question Tina. “Did Paul know about your father?”