Page 21 of Nowhere Good

“I know for a fact that he knew Eliza Johnson, but lied about it. I think he knew this woman too. A neighbor saw someone matching her description looking for Dillon last month, said it seemed like trouble.”

“That’s not enough for me, Detective. I know Dillon Beamish. Bit of a rough kid, but I’m not about to haul somebody out in the middle of the night without a good reason.”

Frustration coiled through him. He wished he could tell her what Claire had told him, but he wasn’t about to break her trust that easily without even having the evidence to support it.

“Claire said she was out biking,” he said. “She left Dillon at home for at least the past hour, probably more. That alone gives him no alibi. Plus, when was the last time you went to their place? Dillon Beamish is an abusive boyfriend on the best of days—who knows what he’s like on the worst.”

Chief Wells looked at him like she thought he was full of it. “Dillon might not be my favorite egg in the basket, but I’ve never seen Claire with bruises. Ron’s a good friend of mine, he’d tell me if there were troubles like that. After what that poor girl went through with Brad Bailey being an addict and all, Dillon’s a damn peach. You don’t know these people like I do.”

“He punches holes in the drywall. He neglects her emotionally and probably cheats on her.” Seth leaned in closer. “And both of the victims look a lot like Claire. One could be a coincidence. Two is an emerging pattern.”

“There’s no shortage of white girls with that kind of dark blonde hair in this world, Detective. Doesn’t mean it has anything to do with Claire, or Dillon.”

“It’s more than that.” He bit his tongue. “I’m not saying to arrest him, but tell him what Claire saw and see if he’ll come down. Pitch it so it’s about finding the body, not that he’s a suspect. Once we have him in a room, I’ll go for a confession.”

“I’m fine with that plan, but it can wait until morning.”

Seth could hardly believe what he was hearing. “This murder just happened, Chief. She’s still warm. He could be washing the blood off his hands right now.” When Chief Wells was still not convinced, he said, “If you won’t bring him in, I’ll do it myself,” and turned to storm off. But Chief Wells’s voice stopped him.

“Hold on, Detective. I’ll send a pair of my guys. We aren’t partial to treating our own townsfolk like this, but when push comes to shove, we’ll get it done.”

“Thank you.” He was glad, because he had something else to deal with before this went any further. “And tell Yess not to let Claire go yet—I want to talk to her on the record.”

Under the harsh lights of the interrogation room, Claire’s face was gaunt and shadowed, dotted with splotches of red. She leaned forward on the chair with her arms wrapped around herself. As Seth entered the room, the cramped beige walls closed in. Interrogation rooms were always claustrophobic, but this one took the cake. Even he struggled to breathe in there, the airflow like liquid in his lungs.

God, he needed a cigarette.

“How are you doing, Claire?” he asked, grabbing the back of the chair across from her. “Can I get you anything? Water? I hear the apple juice isn’t half bad.”

She blinked at him. “Why am I still here?”

“I have a few more questions, then you can go.” He settled into the chair. “Did you recognize her?”

Meekly, she nodded. “Kelsey. She’s younger than me, but she went to my high school.”

“And Dillon? Did he know her?”

“Not that I know of. You’re still looking at him? He was passed out cold when I left him… he couldn’t have done this.”

Seth sighed. After everything, Claire at least deserved the truth. “You should know, we’re bringing him in for questioning tonight. He’s not under arrest, but I’m hoping he’ll confess once we have him. You can’t be his alibi this time.”

She trembled, her silence heavy. He leaned in, adopting a more casual posture.

“I know it’s not easy to come forward, but Claire, this changes everything. I haven’t told anyone what you told me yet, but I’m giving you a chance to tell the truth on the record. You can report what you know about Dillon. You can report what you saw in his car.”

Her gaze flitted to the camera in the top corner of the room.

“It’s not on,” he assured her. “We’re alone.”

Another moment stretched between them before Claire, in a choked voice, said, “I—I can’t help you. I can’t be part of it, not like this. Dillon couldn’t have killed her, it’s impossible.”

“You don’t know that. You were with me tonight. And the night Eliza died, you were asleep.”

The gears in her head visibly clinked together. “But why? Why would he do this?”

“I don’t know. We already know he lied about knowing Eliza, and there’s a chance he knew Kelsey too. You mentioned you think he hates you. Maybe this was never about Eliza Johnson. Maybe it’s about—”

You, he was about to say, but a guttural voice sounded on the other side of the door.