Page 95 of Hell Hath No Fury

“He didn’t say except that he had investigating to do.”

“When was that?”

“Two, maybe three hours ago.”

She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was a little after midnight, meaning his investigation was taking place wellafter business hours. Her next call would be to him. “Nell’s getting dressed, and then we’re heading home.”

“Good.” His relief saturated his voice. “Just one more thing. Whatever you do, don’t let that girl out of your sight.”

* * *

Patrick Winslow was a car thief.

Matthias gnawed on Cassie’s revelation as he drove back to Washington and the hotel. There had been one conviction when Winslow had been eighteen. At least, only one on record. There could have been more that weren’t prosecuted. Or more when he was still a juvie. Those cases were sealed. None of it mattered. Winslow had the skills to break into a car. Had he kept up on the technology and tools required to gain access to Eric’s Prius? For now, Matthias theorized that he had.

Then there was North Star Developing. Jones had changed the business agreement to put Winslow, not Neidermeyer, in charge. But he also planned to change it again.

What Jones giveth, Jones taketh away.

Motive. Means. Opportunity. Winslow had won the trifecta. Matthias wondered if Fergusson knew about the long-ago conviction and had come to the same conclusion. He’d said Winslow was his prime suspect.

Matthias pulled into the hotel parking lot and found a vacant spot just as his phone buzzed. Caller ID showed Emma’s name. Relieved, he swiped the green button. “Where are you?”

“With Nell. Thanks for sending Cassie, by the way.”

“I wanted her to send Roth?—”

“I know. She told me. But it was good to see her.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Emma sounded perkier than he’d expected. “Nell’s getting dressed, then we’re heading back home.”

Home. He wondered where exactly that was. The barn? He decided to save that question for later. “It’s the middle of the night. You should get some sleep and wait until morning to get on the road.”

Emma laughed. “Normally I’d agree, but I’m pretty sure this room has bed bugs. And cockroaches. And I don’t know when the sheets were last changed.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I figure we’ll grab some coffee and start back. If I get tired, we’ll find a hotel that doesn’t have paying by the hour as an option at check-in.”

He cringed at the image flashing through his mind. He’d seen plenty of those dives in his line of work and didn’t want to think about Emma or her sister in one. “Sounds like a good plan.”

“What have you been up to this evening?”

He debated how much to tell her.

“I should warn you, I talked to Eric, who can’t lie to save his life.”

“I didn’t tell Eric what I was doing.”

“So he said, which didn’t sound suspicious at all.”

Matthias rested his head against the back of the seat. “I decided to do a little recon at the Powell farm.” He told her what he’d been looking for and not found. About being busted by the local township police. And the state cops. And about Winslow.

“You think Patrick Winslow killed Sonny?”

“I do.” Another thought struck him. “Winslow probably intended to use the backhoe to bury him at the construction site, but it was vandalized and wouldn’t start.”