Another look between me and Walt. The idea that Fanning’s remains are now somewhere in Mexico feels all the more likely.
“What other steps do you recall?” Walt is breathing a bit easier now.
“There was one about damaging his car. You know, flatten the tires, crack the windshield. Another that involved trying to run him off the road.”
Damn. These folks were not playing.
“Oh, and to leave dead things at his door. You know, like you see driving down the road. Roadkill.”
Well, that explained the carcasses at his house.
“Have you been in contact with the others since that meeting?” Walt asks.
She shakes her head. “There were rules. We would all draw a step. We would do it. We would never speak of it again. We would never speak to each other again.”
I stop the recording. “Thank you, Ms. Hardeman,” I say. “This has been very helpful. I would advise you to be watchful since Fanning remains unaccounted for. Keep your doors locked. We’ll be contacting you again, but until then, if you need to speak with anyone about what you’ve just told us, make it an attorney.”
She nods. “Is that what happened?” She looks from me to Walt and back. “Did one of us take him?”
“We don’t know the answer yet,” Walt tells her.
I stand, offer her my hand.
She pulls up, dusts off her bottom. “Sorry I ran. I guess I got scared and panicked. But I’m not sorry for what I did.”
I smile but keep my thoughts on that one to myself. No matter that Fanning doesn’t deserve any better than whatever he gets, there are laws. I’m supposed to uphold those laws.
I offer Walt my hand next, but he waves me off and pops up like a man half his age. He reaches into his pocket for a business card and hands it to Melanie. “Sorry you felt compelled to run and then we scared you with our chase.” He chuckles and swabs at his face again. “The way you ran, we were worried you had a kilo of blow or something in that bag of yours.”
Melanie’s expression freezes.
Oh hell. I shake my head.
She shrugs. “It’s only a gram.”
Twenty-Two
Melanie Hardeman
The detectives drive away. I relax as best I can, regather my bags and carry them to my house. I really shouldn’t have overreacted to their appearance. We were all warned to expect interviews at the very least.
I plop my bags on the porch and dig for the house key. My hand shakes so badly I can scarcely get the damned thing in the slot. Finally, the key slides in and I give it a twist.
It’s okay. I’m okay.They believed me. I have nothing to worry about.
They don’t know what happened yet.
I close my eyes and think of how I’m going to celebrate. That bastard has to be dead. It’s the only explanation.
Maybe his body will never be found.
I hope he’s burning in hell the way he deserves.
Twenty-Three
Detective Walter Duncan
Sometimes as a cop, the best thing to do is walk away. Since Melanie Hardeman was never arrested before, never been in any kind of trouble, we let the confession about the gram go. We didn’t see the drugs. We had no reason to search her purse, the bags of groceries, or her car. We came to ask her questions about Fanning, and she answered those.
