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“You know we get a lot of tourists through here, so yes, there would have been a lot of strangers. Perhaps”—she looked at Alex and then quickly back to Saige—“the, um, person who took you hadn’t even been into town.” Agnes shrugged. “I honestly didn’t see anyone looking suspicious. I liked Quinten. He was a good man who was trying to build something for himself. If I’d known something, I’d have told the sheriff or that handsome detective, but I didn’t know anything.”
Agnes caught sight of her son in the background and appeared as startled as he did. Paul tried to disappear and in the process of trying to escape their attention, he knocked a tub of pills to the floor. They fell and scattered like Skittles.
Both Alex and Saige jumped slightly at the noise and watched as Paul quickly tried to get them back inside the tub while his mother fussed around him. “We’ll need to order more. We can’t use them now.” Paul gathered them all up and dropped them into the tub he righted. “What a waste. Be more careful,” Agnes berated, and if Alex had blinked, he would have missed the look of hate that crossed Paul’s features.
Paul had always been a bit strange but they always considered him harmless. Now, though, Alex wondered about him and his interest in their discussion and wondered about the look he’d thrown toward his mother.
Alex caught the tail end of the conversation as Saige wrapped up with Agnes, which wasn’t much.
“I promise,” Agnes smiled, disappearing into the back of the store.
Saige slid her arm into his and tugged him outside where she let out a deep sigh. “God, I get the creeps just being in the same room with him.”
“I’m presuming you mean Paul?”
“Yeah.” She shook her head, and said, “Forget that for now. What do you think? Does she really not know anything?”
“I missed the last bit, but she was always the best liar in town.” He wiped the sweat from his brow and frowned. “He looks familiar.” Alex pointed toward a man who was just climbing out of a black Lincoln Navigator.
“Detective Coulter Robinson,” Saige supplied. “He said he might show up around here.”
News to him.
Alex followed Saige as she moved toward the rumpled looking detective.
It had been years since he’d seen the man but now that he drew closer, Alex would recognize him anywhere. Whenever they used to talk, the detective would have a pissed off expression, which he more or less had when he climbed out of the Navigator, until he caught sight of Saige that was.
* * *
3:00pm
* * *
“Detective,” Saige greeted.
Coulter Robinson smiled and took her offered hand, but found he couldn’t hold back the frown when he saw Alex Peterson over her shoulder.
He never truly had a problem with the man, and knew that Alex’s anger had stemmed from all the evidence piling up against Quinten. Alex had never once doubted his brother’s innocence, and now, Coulter started to realize that perhaps he should have listened. Coulter still felt annoyed that no one had bothered to tell him about Saige’s relationship with Quinten. Whether or not it would have made any difference, he didn’t know. He’d been kicking himself in the ass since Saige had told him.
While he was in town, he planned on talking to the sheriff about Quinten. He couldn’t help wonder if Sheriff Hodges knew and had decided to keep it quiet as well. After all, it had been Hodges who had taken Saige’s statement while she’d been in the hospital.
“Is everything okay here?” he asked.
Saige had discovered something, he was sure of it. He watched as she chewed on her bottom lip, and raised a brow in question.
She huffed out a breath, and tucked her hair behind her ear. “My dad has only ever seen the video of me selecting the image of Quinten. Apparently, he received a call just as you finished setting up.” She frowned. “Do you remember Christina’s response? Was she excited that I chose that image?”
“Your stepmother”—he cleared his throat—“insisted that you could remember and wanted you to go ahead with identification. She’s on my list to speak with while I’m in town.” Coulter shoved his hands on his hips and focused on Alex, who had yet to say anything or even acknowledge him.
“We need to have words about withholding evidence, Mr. Peterson.”
“What?” The man had the gall to act surprised and confused.
“You lied in your statement about Saige and Quinten,” Coulter accused.
At least Alex had the decency to not deny the fact.
Coulter glanced around and realized that standing in the middle of town with eyes and ears everywhere wasn’t the best idea. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”
