“You’ve been burned,” he said softly. “I know, and you have no idea how much I want to beat the shit out of every man who has hurt you, Wyatt included. But that won’t prove anything other than I have a temper and know how to use my fists. The only way I know how to prove that you can trust me is to be a man of my word.” He took a breath. “I know that’s gonna take time, but I’m a patient man. I’m willing to earn it.”
I turned away from him and studied the front doors of the building, knowing he was talking about so much more than earning my trust.
“So what do you want to do next?” I asked.
“I think we should see May,” he said.
“Agreed.”
He pulled out his cell phone and placed a call. “Hey, Darren, it’s Marco. Can you look up an address for me?…Thanks, it’s for May Agnew, maiden name May McMurphy. Last known address is in Piedmont, before that Ewing…yeah, give me a call. I’m in Ewing, so I’ll be able to pick up.”
After he disconnected the call, I asked, “Now what?”
“Let’s do a drive-by of Mitzi’s house.”
“Won’t it be a problem if Paul sees you?” I asked.
“We’ll be fine,” he said, “but maybe drive down the opposite side of the street so it’s less likely I’ll be noticed.”
“Or we could not drive by it at all,” I said. “What do we hope to accomplish?”
“I don’t know,” Marco said. “Just call it following my gut.”
I flexed my hands on the steering wheel, my insides still twisting with anxiety from my newfound knowledge.
What if Paul found out what Marco and his friends were doing? Would he try to kill them to keep them quiet? The thought terrified me, but hiding from this wouldn’t make it go away. If Paul was connected to Heather’s death—and we could prove it—it might help Marco dismantle the corruption in the department.
I had to trust that he knew what he was doing. “Okay.”
I started the car and headed to the Conrads’ house, on the other side of town. Just like we’d discussed, I drove down the opposite side of the street past their place.
“Two cars in the driveway,” Marco said. “But his sheriff cruiser’s not here.”
“There were two cars yesterday, but no sheriff SUV,” I said. “And Paul was waiting for me when I got there. I didn’t even make it to the door.”
“He must have left his patrol vehicle at the station, and Mitzi must have told him you were comin’ after Abby’s call.”
“Agreed,” I said as I kept driving past the house, going just under the speed limit.
“Drive around the block again,” Marco said. “Only this time, pull to the side of the road about thirty feet down the block. We’ll watch the house for a bit.”
I made a loop and parked at the end of the street, the Conrads’ house in view.
“What are we looking for?” I asked.
“Any signs of activity. To see who comes and goes.”
“What if no one comes or goes?” I asked.
“Then we’ll have a long, boring afternoon,” he said with a teasing grin. When I seemed unimpressed, he added, “We’re just watching until I get that address from Darren.”
“Shouldn’t he have it by now?”
“He might be busy. It’s an unofficial request.”
We sat in silence for a couple of minutes before Marco’s cell phone rang.
“Darren,” he said, picking it up and taking the call. He grinned at me as he wrote an address on the paper bag that had held our lunch. He hung up, and I was about to start the car to head to Piedmont, but Marco leaned forward. “We have activity.”
I turned my attention back to Mitzi’s house, surprised to see Mitzi walking out of the house with an infant car seat in her hands. A toddler followed behind her.
“Where’s Paul?” I asked as she strapped her children into the backseat of an old green sedan.
“Good question,” Marco said.
Mitzi got behind the wheel of her car and backed out, then drove past us to the end of the street.
“What do you want to do?” I asked, starting the engine.
“Start driving slowly to the end of the street so I can see which direction she’s going.”
“Okay.” I did as he instructed, pulling away from the curb and heading the opposite direction as Marco angled the rearview mirror so he could watch her without turning around.
“She turned west,” he said. “Turn right at the end of the street and we’ll follow her.”
“Okay.” I turned right at the corner, and Marco told me to keep going a couple of blocks until the road dead-ended onto a busier street.
“Turn right here,” he said. “Hopefully we’ll catch up to her soon.”
“How do you know she isn’t going the other way?” I asked as I followed his instruction.
“Because she would’ve taken a different turn out of her neighborhood if she wanted to go that way.”
I sped up a little, and I was relieved when I saw a green sedan farther ahead. “I see her.”
“Let’s hang back a bit,” Marco said. “She’s probably spooked, and we don’t want to freak her out with those babies in the car.”
“Good idea.”
We followed her for nearly a mile until she turned into a grocery store parking lot.
“She’s going grocery shopping?” I asked.
“Paul probably figures anyone who wants to talk to her will come to the house.”
“Are we going to try to talk to her at the grocery store?” I asked.
“You bet your ass we are,” Marco said with a grin.
I pulled into a parking spot, and we watched Mitzi struggle to get both kids out of the car and into the shopping cart she’d retrieved from a cart corral.
Watching her struggle irked me. “If Paul’s home, then why on earth isn’t he watching the kids so she can do her shopping?”
“You’re seriously askin’ that?” Marco asked. “You think a man like Paul is willin’ to take care of his own kids?”
“I guess you have a point.”
Marco reached for his door handle as Mitzi started to roll her cart toward the store. “Let’s go.”
I grabbed his arm. “Marco, wait. You can’t talk to her. What if she connects you to this somehow? It could put you in danger with Paul and the corrupt deputies. Besides, if he’s half as bad as he seems to be, I suspect she won’t want to talk to anyone who works in the department.”
He hesitated, thinking on it, then made a face. “Dammit.”
“I can handle it,” I said softly.
“I know you can. I just don’t like you doin’ it alone. Not with someone like Paul Conrad involved.”
“But he’s not here,” I insisted. “At least let me try.”
He drew a deep breath, then blew it out with a worried look. “Okay, but if you feel unsafe, then come straight here.”
“Okay,” I said as I reached for the recorder in my purse and checked the tape. “Dammit. I forgot the tape’s almost full, and I don’t want to record over my conversations with Emily or Thelma.”