How convenient...
“Bowen had a real chokehold on her, so to speak,” she continues, “she kept rambling on, going back and forth about Bowen, hating him one minute and then sounding heartbroken the next. He did a real number on her,” Moreau pauses, “I almost felt sorry for her.”
I don’t.
“The bitch is dead,” I snap, “what did she say?”
“Yeah…” Moreau pauses, picking up on my lack of concern for Hannah’s moronic angst, “so, in addition to the guilt about Evie, Hannah felt some sort of responsibility for Emily’s disappearance, too. She admitted to being the last one to see Emily before she disappeared, but her involvement is unclear beyond that. However…” Moreau takes a long breath like she’s gearing up to drop a bomb, “Hannah admitted to helping Bowen rebury Emily’s decomposing body after his dog dug it up.” She speaks slowly, as if she’s reading from a paper and may or may not believe what she’s saying, “Emily disappeared right before Christmas, so if Hannah’s story holds any weight, the ground was probably too cold to dig very deep. In the spring, she said there was some incident with the dog and Bowen asked—sorry, told her—to help him re-dispose of Emily’s body.”
Incident with the dog and…an arm? Brett said something about a dog and an arm when she was hyperventilating in my car after she ran from his house...
I long blink, letting her words sink in. My eyes fall to Pony, laying dutifully at my side, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he pants without a care in the world.
“So, Emily is dead…” As much as I don’t want to believe it, I knew that was probably the case.
After this long I didn’t think it would end well, but there was always some shred of hope, like it wouldn’t turn out like this.
“In Hannah’s words,” Moreau explains, “Bowen made a habit of telling the story periodically, but implied that the dog got ahold of a dead animal in the woods and not the shallow grave of his ex-girlfriend. He’d tell the story in front of whoever was around, everyone would laugh, it would get brought up again, rinse and repeat. Like a reminder—a low-key threat. He’s a real piece of work.”
Fucking hell…
“Wow, you don’t say…” I peer through my scope, scanning the tree line, “Well, I’m sure Bowen’s pretty broken up about Hannah,” I mutter sarcastically.
I’m sure there are people who will mourn Hannah Bailey’s death, people who loved her dearly, but I am not one of them. To me, she’s just a whiney, jealous bitch who tries to deliver all the women I love to a murderer. Thank God she never got her hands on Dallas…
“I wouldn’t know,” Moreau sounds unsettled, “which brings me to my next point. No one’s been able to put eyes on him since Sunday. He and his current girlfriend disappeared sometime around then and nobody knows where they went.”
No shit, I chuckle to myself, I watched him and his dupe pack up and ship out a few days ago for a romantic getaway in the mountains.
Working for Sergei has its perks, and they’re usually in the form of state-of-the-art surveillance equipment and weaponry. But he’s also a really nice guy. Once I told him about needing to get Alex and Dallas across state lines, he had no problem with hiring on another security manager and cybersecurity tech. I owe him a lot. He wouldn’t agree, though. He sees this as pure entertainment—beating up a bully in the sandbox. For him, revenge is a way of life.
“Which brings me to my last point. I have some questions for you,” Moreau’s voice hitches mischievously, “because I don’t think you’ve been entirely honest with me.”
“Oh?” I’m glad she can’t see me, otherwise she might see the devious smile oozing across my face.
“Yes, so let’s back up. I have a few names I’d like to get your opinion on—” she pauses for dramatic effect, “Sydney Van Doren, Tyler Wilder, and one…Dallas Berrera.”
My grin gets wider as she says each of their names, “What about them?”
“I know Dallas is your sister,” her words brim with suspicion, “but who are the others to you, Colson?”
“Dangerous women to lock horns with, that’s for sure,” I mutter.
“Have you seen the news in the past 48 hours, about what’s happened in Canaan?” I can sense her desperation, knowing she’s on the cusp of a breakthrough, but the pieces just aren’t there yet. “Have you read the article Sydney wrote? Did you know what she’s been up to?”
I know all about it, but I won’t let Moreau know any of that. Instead, I just goad her further.
“You know women, they won’t let anything go…”
I can practically hear her roll her eyes over the speaker. “Fine, what about Dallas, then?” she counters.
“Dallas likes talking, and people like talking to her. They’ll tell her anything,” I say with indifference. “I mean, you’ve seen her on Twitch, they love her…” If Moreau could reach through the phone, she’d probably smack me.
I’d wanted to wring Dallas’s neck when she told me what she’d been doing, and for how long. But how could I stop her? She has just as much of a stake in this as me. In a way, she was the one who brought me back. And, ultimately, she’s the one who brought us all back together and led us to this moment right here.
“And Tyler, well, don’t get me started on Tyler…” Moreau sounds a little more than annoyed.
“What about Tyler?” I ask with amusement.
“Look,” Moreau says sharply, “I don’t know what her story is…but I’m going to find out.”
Now I’m beaming, “Good luck with that,” I snicker.
“Colson, how do you…” she trails off for a few moments, still trying to make it make sense, “how do you know this many people associated with the Garrisons?”
“Come on, Tammy, we’re from a small town,” I brush her off, “you know how it is, everybody knows everybody else…everybody’s always up in each other’s business…secrets don’t stay secrets forever.”
“It just seems really…coincidental…” she’s not buying it, “some might say, convenient?”
“I got a shotgun, a rifle, and a four-wheel drive…” I give her my best Hank Jr.
“Colson…” she says in a warning tone.
“And a country boy can survive…” I croon into the speaker.
“Colson.” She’s going to fucking strangle me if we ever meet in person.
“Listen, all that matters is whether everything is admissible in a court of law,” I reply, not giving up anything else. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my dog and I are in the middle of tracking a large predator that’s been sleazing around my property.”
