“Then I ain’t steppin’ nowhere.”

My teeth grind. Behind me, Pickles swears. I raise my hand slightly to silence him. “We just want to talk to you.”

Derek tries to close the door. I ram my boot into the space. “Get out here and talk to us, or I’m going to come back with a warrant and tear this place apart.”

“I didn’t do nothin’.”

“Nobody said you did.”

He shoves open the door. I step back just in time to avoid getting hit in the face with it. “Down there.” I point to the base of the trailer steps.

Sighing, he shoves past me. I glance at Pickles. He points covertly at his gun and raises his brows. You want me to shoot him? That makes me smile.

“What do you guys want with me?” Krause asks, shuffling down the steps.

I follow, hoping he’s not in the mood to fight because he’s huge. Two-fifty. Six-four. The last kind of guy I want to get into a scuffle with. “Where were you last night?” I begin.

“Here.”

“Can anyone collaborate that?”

“My dog.”

“Someone who can talk?” Pickles spits out his toothpick.

Derek sneers at him. “No.”

I motion toward his vehicle. “Nice truck. Yours?”

He turns his attention to me. “It gets me around.”

“Where do you work?”

“Farnhall.”

Farnhall is a manufacturing firm in Millersburg that makes oil filters. “What do you do there?”

“I work on the line.” Another sigh that reminds me of a bored teenager. “What’s this all about?”

“Do you know the Plank family?”

“Never heard of no Planks.”

“Where was your brother last night?”

“Dunno.”

Now it’s my turn to sigh. “Derek, come on. Work with me.”

“Look, I ain’t his fuckin’ keeper, all right?”

“Was he home?”

“Yeah, he was here.”

“What time?”

He lifts a big shoulder, lets it drop. “Eight. Nine o’clock.”

“Which was it?”

“I don’t know.”

Pickles mutters a word that sounds like dipshit.

Krause looks over the top of my head at Pickles and snarls. “At least I’m not half senile like you, old man.”

“That’s enough,” I snap. “Why aren’t you at work today?”

“I’m sick, man. Got a stomachache.”

“You don’t look sick.”

His massive shoulders lift, then drop. “Well, I am. Had the squirts all morning.”

I raise my hands to shut him up. “Where’s your brother now?”

Derek looks away. “Dunno.”

“He’s on probation, isn’t he?” I know he is, but I pose the question, anyway.

His gaze goes wary. “I guess.”

“Look, I can make this easy. Or we can do it hard. It’s going to be a lot better for both of you if you cooperate. Now where is he?”

“He’s at the bar, man. He’s not s’posed to be, so cut him some slack, will you?”