Page 101 of Forever Dead

“I don’t discuss dealings with Walton,” Ray said.

“You do business with him.”

“That’s your theory.”

“I’ve seen your trucks at his properties,” Connor said.

“And?”

“Your warehouses get used by people who work for him.”

Ray’s expression turned colder. “Then get a warrant and search them.”

“I might.”

“Do that,” Ray said. “While you’re there, look at yourself in the mirror. I hear you’ve been spending some time over there.”

The grin that came after that was more malevolent than those before it.

Selena turned her attention to Connor.

She already knew about the six thousand dollars he had paid Morimer for information. What she didn’t know was whether that old mistake had led to something new. Earlier, when she asked if Morimer had contacted him again, Connor had seemed ready to tell her something before the pumpkin in the road ended the conversation.

Now Ray was implying there had been more contact, and Connor had gone noticeably still.

Whatever Ray knew, it touched the thing Connor had almost told her.

Selena filed the reaction away. This was not the place to push him, but the question was not going away.

“I’m sheriff,” Connor said, cooler than his face suggested. “You think me being up there at his place makes me dirty?”

The grin came again. “Why, Sheriff, I never insinuated no such thing. All I know is, you best keep your nose out of my business. It’s all above board. As… I’m sure…is yours.”

Selena watched the exchange. Whatever existed between Ray and Morimer, Ray had prepared for questions about it long ago. His denial arrived too easily, not nervous enough to be useful.

The murders were different.

Those had unsettled him.

“Did you ever tell anyone you wanted the Marsh or Tully properties back?” Selena asked.

“Of course I did.”

“Who?”

“Lawyers. Surveyors. Family. Anyone who’d listen when I was fighting the boundaries.”

“Did you ever say the current owners had stolen them from your family?”

Ray hesitated.

That was the first question he seemed to dislike for a different reason.

“I might’ve,” he said.

“In anger?”

“Probably.”