Page 28 of Trace of Doubt
“And you expect me to swallow another lie?”
“Is that why you agreed to lunch?”
She shrugged. “I’m curious.” She studied me as though I were a despicable specimen under a microscope. “Is this about adding credibility to your résumé? A promotion? Are you and Officer Hughes working together?”
“It’s about seeking justice.”
She glanced away, then back to me. How did she keep her face so calm? “Have you attempted to locate the money all these years?”
I nodded. “Off and on.”
She laughed, but it held no humor. “You’ve wasted years of your life on a travesty. How sad.”
“Prove me wrong.”
She leaned in closer. “I’ve spent years trying to understand what happened to Travis’s money. But it doesn’t control me.”
“So your accomplice made off with it?” Contempt scorched like I’d swallowed acid.
“Good one, Denton. If I’d enlisted someone to help me, the money would be long gone. No fool would wait on a killer who might never be released.”
“What about the threats since you’ve arrived?”
“My vote is for Officer Hughes or you.”
“It’s not me.”
“You’re a strange man, rather pathetic.” She paused. “At the end of your life, what will you have to show for your quest?”
I’d pondered the same thing. “A life spent seeking truth.”
“Maybe you should check your road map. This is what I know.Three months ago, my parole date was announced as well as my relocation plans. You slither into one of Edie’s cabins, set yourself up as a good neighbor, and devise ways to convince me you’re a great guy. You used a puppy to win my friendship. Rather low, don’t you think? How stupid do you think I am?”
My cheeks burned along with my gut. “Apparently I misjudged your intelligence.”
Shelby folded her arms over her chest. “I neglected to mention my compliments to your family’s dedication to preserving the law. A dad and two brothers viewed as superhero police officers. And to think you broke the mold to enter the FBI. Impressive.”
A female server delivered our food, but my appetite had vanished.
“Miss.” Shelby focused on the server with an extra dose of sweetness. “I’d like my order boxed to go, and I’ll take the check for my meal.”
I raised my palm at Shelby. “This is my bill.”
She stood. “No thanks. I neither need your deceit nor a handout. But I’m keeping Joy. I hate the thought of returning her to you.”
The server set my plate before me and disappeared.
“I can take you home,” I said.
“Not necessary, Agent McClure. I’ll relieve you of Officer Hughes’s bicycle from your truck bed and be on my way. The day’s beautiful, and I plan to sort through information about my FBI neighbor.” She slipped a denim purse onto her shoulder. “Question, have you stalked me and broken into my home?”
How should I answer?
“Never mind. You already did. The threatening phones calls had better stop too. Breaking the law for a stellar résumé might land you behind bars. Now how ironic would that be?”
18
SHELBY
