Free Forever Man by Brian Matthews

was.
    “Don’t start second guessing yourself. You’re an excellent cop, Izzy. Keep doing your job and you’ll find her.”
    “I wish I had your confidence in me.”
    “Stop it,” he said. “You’re starting to sound like the old Izzy.”
    The old Izzy. By which, Gene meant the young Izzy—the teenager who had been consumed with doubts about herself, always feeling inadequate, inferior. Those feelings had pushed her to excel at everything she did, with little regard given to the feelings of others. That kind of attitude had quickly alienated the other kids, except for two: the thin, somewhat nerdy brainiac who would later become her husband, and the larger, more athletic boy with the funny rock-’n’-roll name.
    “I’ll keep that in mind.” She nodded toward the black man who’d been talking with Katie Bethel. “Who is that guy?”
    Gene turned and saw Bart Owens stepping over a small deadfall. “He’s the musician I hired to play at the Lula.” He filled her in on what little he knew about Owens.
    “So what’s he doing here ?” Izzy asked.
    “Said he wanted to help with the search.” He paused. “Why? Did I do something wrong?”
    “No,” Izzy said, staring at Owens. “You did the right thing.” The man had gotten her attention because she knew some criminals liked to revisit their crime scenes. They got off on watching the police trying to catch them. But to the best of her knowledge, none had ever been this bold about it.
    “By the way,” Gene said, interrupting her thoughts. “I had some trouble with Denny and Chet last night.” He told her about what had happened and about Denny’s racial slur.
    Izzy’s eyes drifted over to Denny Cain, who was crouched behind the tree where they had found Nat’s blood, his hands carefully sweeping aside leaves and sticks. Stanley’s assistant manager and the father of the late Jimmy Cain had been given bereavement time from work. In fact, she had been surprised when he’d shown up this morning to help with the search.
    Izzy looked back at Gene. “He really said that, huh?”
    “Yup, though I shouldn’t have been too surprised. We don’t have much pepper mixed in with the salt up here.”
    “You grew up here,” she said. “You know how people in these rural Upper towns are.”
    Gene shrugged. “Doesn’t make it right. Anyway, after he said it, I gave him and Chet the boot.”
    “You didn’t let them drive, did you?”
    He gave her a flat look. “You know me better than that. Denny came by the Lula early this morning for his keys. Apologized for being a jerk. As far as I’m concerned, we’re good. Hell, he even helped clean the place up while I went to make the morning deposit.” Gene frowned. “I never thought to ask him how he got home. Or back to the Lula.”
    “What about Chet? He ever come by for his keys?”
    “Not that I know of.”
    Izzy thought for a moment, then gave a mental shrug. Right now, she had bigger problems to deal with than Denny and Chet. “I want to get back to Mr. Owens for a moment. You say he’s from Nashville?”
    “So the man told me.”
    “Do you know for a fact that he came from Nashville?”
    Gene frowned, as if the question had caught him off guard.
    Izzy didn’t wait for an answer. “And do you know when he got into town?”
    “Well,” Gene said. “He walked into the Lula around three yesterday. I kind of assumed….”
    “So you really don’t know where he’s from or when he got here?”
    “No,” he admitted, a bit sheepishly. “I guess not.”
    She pulled out a small notepad and began jotting down notes.
    “Wait a minute,” Gene said, putting a hand on her arm. “You think Owens might have something to do with this?”
    Glancing up from her notepad, she said, “Can you prove to me he doesn’t?”
    “Well…no, of course not. But I heard Jimmy was torn open, his ribcage ripped out. Owens doesn’t look big enough to do that kind of damage.”
    “No, he doesn’t. But he is new in