Free Dead in Her Tracks by Kendra Elliot Page B

truckers in here.” He squinted at the paper. “The one on the left might have been in here before. I can’t remember. When women came in Bob tried to get them to sit at this end of the bar where it’s quieter, and he could keep an eye on them. He didn’t want the truckers harassing them.”
    “Isn’t that nice,” Stevie said under her breath.
    “Did Bob have a fishing or hunting cabin he liked to use?” Zane asked. “Or do you know of any outbuildings where he might have stored some of his equipment?”
    Jake scowled. “What kind of equipment?”
    “I don’t know, anything ,like a boat or quad.”
    “You’re looking for a place where he killed these women.” Jake pointed at the photos. “I’m telling you, he didn’t do it! He didn’t have a boat to store, and he didn’t hunt.”
    “No one knew him better than you,” Stevie cajoled. “What about Samantha Lyle? Do you remember her?”
    “I knew her. I remember everyone said she left town after her fight with her boyfriend.”
    “Did you see her the night she left? They’d been here in the bar.”
    Zane let Stevie continue asking the questions. Jake looked at her with puppy-dog eyes, having apparently forgotten about her boot to his balls the other night. With Zane he bristled and got defensive every time Zane spoke.
    “I didn’t see them that night. I was off. Just because she’s gone doesn’t mean she was murdered. She could be living in New York City for all we know. Everyone’s trying to make Bob look bad.”
    Bob did that himself. “We’re just looking for answers.” Zane exchanged a glance with Stevie. He was tired of hearing Jake sing Bob’s praises.
    “If you’re trying to find some answers, why aren’t you looking for who killed Bob ? All anyone cares about is that woman in the hotel room. She wasn’t even from around here. Bob lives in Solitude, and you haven’t said a word about his murder.”
    “That investigation is ongoing too, Jake,” said Zane with a small pang of guilt. “We’re looking into both at the same time.”
    “It sure doesn’t seem like it. When are you going to arrest someone?”
    “When the time is right.”
    “Fuck off,” said Jake. “Go eat some doughnuts. You guys don’t care about anything.” He turned his back to them, clearly finished with being cooperative.
    Zane was done too.
    “Make an appointment with your doctor, Jake. Maybe he’ll prescribe something to help you get over the oxy.” Zane headed out of the bar, ready to breathe some fresh air. “You’re going to be feeling like hell for quite a while.”
    They stepped out the door and Zane looked at Stevie. “Does it make me a bad guy that I feel like I’m not searching as hard for Bob’s killer as I am for Vanessa’s?”
    Stevie took his hand, smiling sadly. “I think it makes you human. We’re focused just as hard on Bob’s killer.”
    “Because Vanessa’s murderer might be dead. Bob’s is not.”

CHAPTER TEN
    Later that day Zane tapped a pencil on his desk and stared out the window.
    Nothing was happening. He didn’t have a suspect for Bob Fletcher’s death, and he didn’t have proof that Bob had killed Vanessa Phillips.
    What have I missed?
    The multiple long hairs in the back of Bob’s vehicle disturbed him. There was no good reason for hair to be there unless he had hauled the bodies.
    Where did he take the other women?
    Zane had more questions than answers. His mind kept returning to the cash at Bob’s house. Why would someone break in and not steal the money? Had they run out of time? Or had they been looking for something specific and left as soon as it was found?
    He’d searched the house expecting to find oxy. Hank had said he was an abuser, but he and Stevie hadn’t found a single pill of the drug left in the house, and there had been that bottle of Suboxone. Was the lack of oxy a sign he’d cleaned up his act or an indication that someone had emptied his stash?
    Zane didn’t know.
    At five o’clock