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“Clearly, neither father nor son are house proud,” Adams said. “It’s a pity. A blight in such a picturesque area. You know how quaint I’ve always thought this community to be.”
“I think you have mentioned it in the past,” May mumbled, which was a nicer way of saying Adams had used the word “quaint” several times an hour, and in a deprecating way, while driving around Tamarack County.
“Let’s go speak to him,” Kerry said, leading the way up the uneven garden path.
May and Adams followed her up the path to the front door. Glancing to her right, May noticed a small workshop. That was something to keep in mind, she thought, thinking of that homemade raft. If there was any woodworking being done in there, it might be worth seeing what it was.
“Callum McGee?” Kerry called, knocking on the door.
It was opened by an older man who May guessed must be Callum’s father. He had bushy, graying hair, a narrow face, and a suspicious expression.
“Yes?” he said in a deep voice.
May noticed a shotgun propped by the door. Beyond, the hallway was lined with trophy animal heads. A musty smell wafted out to meet them.
“Good morning, sir,” Kerry greeted him. “My name is Kerry Moore and I’m an FBI agent. We need to have a word with Callum, if he’s here?”
“What’s this about?” He glared at them, eyes narrowed. “My son’s here, but he needs to go to school. Come back later.”
Beyond him, May saw a tall young man standing in the corridor. He was a good-looking, athletic man, with broad shoulders and dark hair. However, he had the same suspicious expression on his face that May could see on his father’s.
“I’m going to have to ask you to let us speak to your son now,” Kerry said, gently but firmly, as though she were speaking to a class of unruly children.
“Tell me why, or I’m not letting you in.”
“It’s in connection with the recent crimes. The murder of Emily Hobbs and the abduction of Shawna Harding.”
“What? My boy is not involved in any crimes. What are you even harassing us for?” He sounded outraged.
“Sir, we just need to speak to Callum to get a few details,” Kerry said, her tone still pleasant.
May was impressed by how level Kerry could keep her voice. She herself wondered why the father was being so defensive. Was he protecting his son? Was Kerry’s theory one hundred percent right?
“I’m not harassing you,” she added. “You can be there the whole time. I just want to ask him some questions.” She gave a pleasant, yet steely, smile.
With an angry sigh, the man capitulated. He stood aside and Kerry marched into the dusty-smelling home. Callum watched them warily. He didn’t look pleased to see them inside at all. May thought he looked nervous and shifty.
“Callum?” she asked. “Where can we speak?”
“Come in the kitchen.” Mr. McGee gestured to a door at the far end of the short corridor.
They headed into an untidy kitchen. With five of them in there, the space felt crowded.
Kerry sat down at one of the four seats around the wooden table, gesturing for Callum to sit opposite. May and Adams stood either side of the door to the corridor. Callum’s dad stood threateningly at the head of the table, looming over them.
“I’d like to ask you about your past relationships, Callum. I understand you have dated both Emily and Shawna.”
“No, not really,” Callum said reflexively, running a hand through his thick, dark hair.
They were only just in the house, and he’d already lied. The air of tension in the kitchen seemed to thicken.
“We have some questions about your relationship with Shawna. About what happened between you.”
“Nothing happened. Shawna blew it out of all proportion. She had no right to do what she did.”
“Why do you say that?”
Callum didn’t answer Kerry, but stared at the table.
