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“I’ll bring a cooler.” Styles drained his cup and looked at her. “Heads up, someone is heading our way.” He stood and faced the man approaching them, instantly recognizing him as Clay Maverick. Beth had chosen suspects who all fit the general description of the shooter.
“Liz mentioned you wanted to speak to me?” Maverick pushed up the brim of his cowboy hat and looked from one to the other. “What’s up? It’s not usual to have the FBI in town.”
“Two mass murders in six months and we’ll come running.” Styles waved him to a seat. “Why don’t you sit down so we can have a chat?”
Beth placed her fork on her plate and pushed it away. She took out her notebook. “Liz mentioned you live in town. You know about the shootings. Have you seen any strangers hanging around lately?”
“Nope.” Clay Maverick scratched his cheek and leaned casually back in his chair. “You figure, if there’s a gunman taking out people in town, anyone is going to spill their guts about him?” He looked slowly from one to the other. “Most of us are carrying but we don’t intend to kill no one. It’s a dog-eat-dogworld out there. When I’m out doing deliveries, I never know who might decide to pull me over and steal my cargo.”
“There’s a big demand for dairy products around here, huh?” Styles snorted. “Maybe cigarettes and beer, but cheese and yogurt, maybe not so much.” He stared him down. “You live around town, so you go to the convenience store how many times a week would you say?”
“I dunno, couple of times, maybe three.” Maverick shrugged. “I went by the night of the shooting and saw the bodies everywhere. I didn’t see the girl they said was abducted but I did pass a truck heading north.”
Beth lifted her pen. “What make of truck? Color?”
“I don’t recall.” Maverick smiled at her. “I was thinking about ice cream. What flavor I wanted. Do you like ice cream? You look like a chocolate chip girl to me.”
The way he smoothly took over the conversation, guiding it away from the questioning, made Beth smile. Oh, he was good. “Do I? Well, you’ll never know, will you? What time was this?”
“Are FBI female agents so hard to get along with?” Maverick looked at Styles.
“Just answer the questions, Mr. Maverick, and then we can be on our way.” Styles cleared his throat. “What time was this?”
“A little after nine.” Maverick shrugged. “I wasn’t the only one there. People were running around waving guns and screaming orders. The cops arrived and sent everyone home.”
“Did anyone go inside to check on the victims?” Styles leaned forward, pressing his clasped hands on the table.
“Nope.” Maverick gave him a long look. “There was blood all over, and a woman was lying near the door. She was dead. Her eyes were just staring. The others had head shots. No one was walking out of there alive.”
Beth eyed him critically. “You don’t seem too upset about witnessing a mass murder. Have you served in the military?”
“Me? Heavens no.” Maverick barked a laugh. “I hunt. Blood doesn’t bother me. I didn’t know any of the people, so it was kind of like watching a horror movie, like from outside.”
“Try to think back to the truck you saw driving away.” Styles looked at him. “What type? You know it’s a truck, so what type?”
“Hmm, could have been a Ram. It had a covered bed, windows were tinted. It was dark, as in not white or silver. That’s all I’ve got.” Maverick looked from one to the other. “Can I go now? Liz has a slice of chocolate cake with my name on it out back.”
Beth leaned forward. “One thing.” She smiled. “Are you married or do you live alone?”
“I haven’t left home yet.” Maverick shrugged. “Pretty bad, huh? Living with parents at my age, but around here, we often stay put until we have a place of our own.”
“Yeah. I’ve noticed.” Styles handed him a card. “If anything else comes to mind about that night, give me a call.”
Beth watched him walk away and turned to Styles. “Possible. He fits the profile and he has all his fingers.”
TWENTY-FIVE
It had started to rain as they headed for the sheriff’s department. The cold drops splashed Beth’s cheeks as the wind picked up, sending the rain almost horizontal. As they walked, the temperature dropped so fast clouds of steam came out of her nose with every breath. The rain turned to ice, and sleet peppered them in icy shards. They ran the last few yards to the entrance and fell inside, glad to be out of the cold. She bypassed the front desk and led the way to Sheriff Bowman’s office and knocked on the door. “We’ve come for the vehicle. One thing, did you take the names of the crowd members who gathered at the murder scene?”
“Nope.” Bowman handed her a set of keys. “It wasn’t necessary to question a bunch of traumatized townsfolk. I knew all of them. They live close by. If they’d seen anything, they’d have told me. It’s a close-knit community.”
Shaking her head, Beth looked at him incredulous. “And yet a gunman, probably the same gunman, hit the same place twice and not a soul witnessed anything?” She raised both eyebrows. “Is this the case or are people afraid to say anything around here?”
“Afraid?” Bowman looked perplexed. “Why would they be afraid? If someone threatened them with a weapon, they’d defend themselves.”
“Yet people died in the convenience store.” Styles narrowed his gaze. “Nobody attempted to take down the gunman, did they?”
“I guess not everyone was carrying.” Bowman shrugged. “I don’t have an answer for you.”
