“Boyfriends?”

“You know how those private all-girl schools get together with all-boy schools for dances? Like that. But no one steady, nobody unsavory, nobody her daddy would disapprove.”

“So no sex scandals, abortions, nothing like that?”

“If there was such, my research assistant didn’t find it.”

Trapper gave him an arch look. “Did your research assistant learn if Tiffany Wilcox was ever in trouble with the police?”

“Un-huh. Not even a traffic ticket.”

“Drugs?”

“Not unless you count the overdose that killed her.”

Trapper exchanged a look with Kerra before he went back to Carson. The attorney shrugged. “The obituary said she died of respiratory ‘complications,’ when it was actually respiratory arrest. Basically she stopped breathing and died of asphyxiation. And she stopped breathing after ingesting a massive amount of heroin. Official ruling was accidental intravenous overdose.”

“Self-administered?”

“That could be what the Wilcoxes wanted hushed up.”

“Could be? Or …?”

“You’re the investigator, Trapper, not me. It’s all foggy.”

“Is this research assistant reliable?”

“Reliably criminal. But I trust the information because he owes me a favor.” Looking at Kerra, he added, “I got his last sentence reduced to time served.”

Trapper ran his hand over his bristly jaw. “Where was she?”

“The Wilcox girl? When she died? Don’t know. My assistant didn’t get that.”

“Who found her?”

“Didn’t get that, either. She was pronounced DOA at Presbyterian Hospital in Dallas. After the autopsy her body was cremated. No funeral. No nothing. Her horse was donated to a ranch that has riding programs for autistic kids, and this is no nag, it’s a fancy horse.

“The music room at her school has been named after her, but, at the Wilcoxes’ request, there was no big to-do made over it. It’s like Tiffany …” He made a fluttering motion with his fingers to indicate that she’d been dispersed into the air.

A car horn sounded. “My signal.” Carson stood up and divided a look of worry between them, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Wilcox walks in tall cotton. Y’all know what you’re doing?”

Neither answered.

“What are you doing?”

Neither answered.

“Well, if you ever need a lawyer …” He moved toward the door.

Trapper asked him if he’d seen anybody who didn’t belong lurking around their office building.

“Nobody. Guess everybody knew you’d be up in Lodal with your daddy.”

Another horn honk sounded. Trapper opened the door and, despite Mrs. Rime’s dislike, gave her a friendly wave, in response to which she laid down on the horn. Trapper merely laughed.

On his way out, Carson handed him a set of car keys. “Not pretty to look at, but my new brother-in-law swears it runs like a Swiss watch.”

Trapper glanced out at the car and grimaced. “Well, he wasn’t lying about its looks.” Then, “Really and truly, Carson, thanks for all this.”

“I don’t do anything out of the goodness of my heart. You ever heard of billable hours? I’m chalking ’em up.” He blew Kerra a kiss and left to join his impatient bride.

Trapper shut the door and went through the locking process. He checked the contents of the shopping bags Carson had left on the bed and lifted one in each hand. “Boxers or briefs?”

“Briefs.”

He passed her one of the bags. “Briefs and other girl stuff. You can shower first, but save me a towel.”

“We didn’t finish our conversation.”

“Yeah, we did. Message received. You’re morally superior and don’t want to screw the likes of me. Fine. Occasionally I ask, but I never, ever beg.”

“Trapper—”

“I got a call to make.” He turned away from her, picked up his coat, and took from an inside pocket one of the several cell phones he’d retrieved from under the seat of the SUV.

He placed his call. “Hi, this John Trapper. How’s The Major this morning?” He listened for several moments, then said, “Really? He’s up to it? That’s a good sign, right? Sure. Hold the phone to his ear.” Then, “Hey. You’re doing even better. The nurse said—”

As he listened, Kerra watched his smile gradually turn into a thin, stern line. “Yeah, I guess you could call it a wild goose chase.” More listening, then, “No matter what I say in my own defense, you’ve already judged me.” Several seconds later, he gave Kerra a sharp look. “She’s standing right here.”

He walked over and ungently thrust the phone at her. “The Major wants to talk to you.”

Chapter 18

Trapper brushed past her and went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

She said into the phone, “Major?”

“Kerra. I’ve been beside myself ever since I was told you got hurt. Are you fully recovered?”

His voice was faint and scratchy, but she smiled at the sound of it. “Almost. Soon you will be. I’m so grateful.”

“You might have been killed.”

“I survived. We survived. Don’t think about what could have been.” She laughed shakily. “Of course, I’ve had to tell myself the same thing numerous times.”

After a brief lapse, he said, “Lucky for me, the nurse John schmoozed was right here in my room when he called her.”

“That was lucky.”

“I’m surprised he called to ask after me.”

“Why would that surprise you? He’s terribly worried about you.”

“Then why isn’t he here with me instead of out doing … what he’s doing?”

During her hesitation to answer, The Major muffled the phone and asked the nurse to give him a moment’s privacy. Then he asked Kerra if she was alone. “Can we talk candidly?”

She could hear the shower running through the closed bathroom door. “Yes.”

“I know some of what’s going on because Glenn stopped by earlier,” The Major said, still speaking in a rasp. “He was fit to be tied. Told me how John had tricked Hank.”

“He went to the line shack this morning?”

“Glenn with him. As John knew would happen. Hank’s always been gullible, but Glenn was also made a fool of.”

“That wasn’t Trapper’s intention. He only needed to buy some time.”

The Major pulled in a ragged breath. “Kerra, is he chasing that notion of his about the Pegasus?”

She didn’t say anything, which was answer enough.

The Major sighed. “When he was here last night, I was barely conscious, but he launched right into it. Said I hadn’t listened when he warned me, and as a result you and I nearly got killed.”

Not wanting to be argumentative, as Trapper would be, she chose her words carefully. “If Sunday’s incident had nothing to do with our reunion and the Pegasus bombing, the timing is uncanny.”

“I agree, but it’s not up to us or to John to decide that. If he thinks the two are connected, he should take it up with the authorities. Federal authorities.”

“He tried,” she reminded him.

“Yes,” he said with discernible regret. “I got frustrated with him over that, and I was wrong. But John is his own worst enemy. A superior calls his methods into question, he shoots off his mouth, gets into trouble, causes grief for himself and everyone around him.”

Kerra knew that to be true, but The Major’s labored breathing concerned her. “We shouldn’t be talking about this right now. It’s upsetting you.”

“I’ve been upset for three years. John was a bright and shining star at the ATF until his obsession with the Pegasus took hold. He stopped at nothing to try and prove that he was right and everyone else wrong. He disobeyed orders to drop it, and that cost him his career. Cost Marianne hers, too, and destroyed their future together.”