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“What else do you need to do while you’re here, Detective Dic—Dove?” Brett asked.
I looked up. Travis’ gaze was burning above and behind me. His jaw clenched. “I need to question Billie about the last time she saw Ms. Walkins and Mr. Hibbley. Because of the nature of the crime and because of Billie’s connection, we needed to come here.”
“Have you questioned next of kin?”
“Yes, Mr. Jackass. Thank you for asking me how I do my job.”
Brett grunted. “Just saying it might look a certain way if you came here first.”
Travis didn’t respond, but regret and anger swam over his face before he realized I was looking at him. He blanked it all in the next second. “We didn’t come here first, but I wanted to get here before the news broke.”
I hadn’t considered the news. I was slow in remembering the after of everything.
They were going to blast it all over again. The Midwest Butcher was back, or a copycat was active, and what then? My name. My pictures. Everything dragged back up. All of it.
A sad laugh escaped me. “I thought I’d have to worry about someone starting with me first, and then branching off into his own thing.”
Travis leaned forward. “Say that again.”
I opened my mouth, but Brett squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t make her say it again. You heard her.”
Travis’ eyes flashed in anger. He shoved up from his seat. “Stop bringing personal shit into this, Broudou.”
“It’s all personal, and you know it. It’s going to be personal. And this ain’t about you, Detective Dickhead. You delivered the second-worst nightmare to her doorstep right on the heels of finding out his lawyers are going to try to say Fowler’s innocent. The timing’s suspect, or at the very least, it’s a karmic joke on Billie and this family. You know what’s going to happen. The press will eat this up. They will love saying the Midwest Butcher could still be at large and the man Billie put away as a twelve-year-old was innocent. Fuck. You know he’s not.” Brett’s voice was low, and rage simmered just under the surface. Some started to leak out. “They’re going to roast Billie alive.”
“What do you want me to do about it?” Travis stiffened.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Sarcasm. “Maybe put a gag order on his lawyers? Saying they can’t go to the press with their new idea because it could infringe on your investigation.”
“How the fuck do you know I haven’t already done that?”
“Have you?” Brett bit out.
Travis bit right back. “Yes. We delivered that order right before they were escorted off these premises. Any other bright fucking and unnecessary ideas, Mr. What The Fuck Do You Do Again? Right. You’re an athlete. You run after a ball for millions.”
“Wrong, asshole. I hit people for millions.”
Travis’ face twisted. He opened his mouth to speak, but Howard got in the middle.
“Okay, gentlemen…”
“Stuff it.” Vicky was more direct. “What more do you need from us, Travis? It’s already been a long day. I’ve no doubt that come morning, we’ll be in a nightmare of a storm. Can you get to what you need and leave?”
He sighed. “We need to search your premises.”
“No.” That came from Howard.
“If there’s someone—”
“I said no. Next?”
Travis paused before his next words. “I need to question you, Billie, about the last time you saw Ms. Walkins and Mr. Hibbley.”
I nodded. I wouldn’t have anything helpful to say, but… “There was a man,” I suddenly remembered.
“What?” Travis said.
“What man?” Brett asked.
