I’ve got a name badge but this fellow hasn’t once looked at it. What’s this about?

“I’ll just be a second, son. Thanks for coming in.”

“Just for the record, I’m not under arrest. You’ve asked me here and I’ve come voluntarily. I can leave at any time. Is that correct?”

“That’s right. You want some ice cream?”

“I … what?”

“Ice cream?”

“No, thanks. I’ll pass. What’s this all about?”

“You go by Ed, Eddie?”

The smile. It was damn eerie. “No. I like Edwin, Pike.”

Madigan paused. The fuck is he using my first name for? And how the hell did he know it? A lot of deputies here don’t know what it is.

“Well, then, Edwin it is. Be back in a second.” He nodded for Fuentes to join him up the hall.

“Any problem?” Madigan whispered.

“No. Just asked him to come in and he didn’t hesitate.” Fuentes continued, “And I heard Miguel and a crime scene team found some good evidence at his place, after he left.”

“Looks that way.”

“Good,” Fuentes said. “How’s Kayleigh holding up?”

“Doing the best she can, I’d say. Not great.”

“Son of a bitch,” Fuentes muttered. And they looked back to see Edwin watching the men. He couldn’t hear what they said; they were too far away. But it gave Madigan a chill to see those eyes crinkle with amusement as if he could sense every word.

He sent Fuentes back to the division and stepped into the lunchroom, opened the fridge and scooped himself some ice cream, dropped it into a paper cup. He loved ice cream. No taste for liquor other than a beer at a barbecue, no chew or smokes but he loved ice cream. Not yogurt or sherbet or low-fat. Real, honest-to-God ice cream. He carried an extra ten pounds due exclusively to the stuff but that was ten pounds he was willing to sacrifice for the cause.

People thought he ate ice cream to intimidate suspects, or to win them over if he offered a scoop or two. But fact was he just liked ice cream.

Today he was having mint chocolate chip.

He returned to the Detective Division. “Okay, Edwin. Just like to have a conversation with you, you’d be so kind.”

A couple of big bites from the cup with a metal spoon. He always used metal. Hated plastic. Paper and foam cups were okay but you needed to eat your ice cream with a real spoon.

They’d just started toward the interview room when the door to the division swung open once again and someone else entered the lobby.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

It was Kathryn Dance.

Chapter 14

SHE’D TAKEN A cab.

Did they think she wouldn’t?

The chief detective and Crystal Stanning had been gone from Bobby’s trailer for ten minutes when she gave up her futile back-and-forth attempt to free the wide-wheel-base Nissan.

She’d pulled out her mobile, found a business search app and got a cab to pick her up and take her straight to the sheriff’s office.