Sal turned up the set as KHIL cut to a reporter-a good-looking broad with nice-sized jugs named Kitty Katz.
You gotta be kidding, Sal thought. Sounded like a stripper, not a reporter. Kitty was trying to look all serious and dramatic, standing in front of the courthouse.
“There has never been a chain of events quite like the past few days here in Blanco County-that much everyone can agree on. It all started nearly forty-eight hours ago when Jack Corey, a suspect in the murder of Blanco County employee Bert Gammel, shot a sheriff’s deputy and began a standoff in the building you see behind me. For days, Corey has remained holed up with the wounded deputy, refusing to negotiate a surrender. But just moments ago, we received word that there is another suspect in the homicide, and the new suspect has indeed confessed…”
Sal watched as the station cut to a clip of an earlier interview. Some goofy-looking deputy standing there, looking cocky in front of the camera. His name-DEPUTY ERNIE TURPIN-was superimposed on the bottom of the screen.
“We do have a full confession on record, but I’m not at liberty to identify the suspect at this time. But this does mean that Mr. Corey is no longer a suspect, and we are encouraging him to end the standoff immediately.”
The camera cut back to the reporter.
“So far, however, neither Corey nor the deputy have emerged. Meanwhile, there is still no development in the disappearance of local rancher and businessman Emmett Slaton, who has been missing since Wednesday. Anyone with information pertaining to the case is asked to call the Blanco County Sheriff’s Department. Remarkably, another odd story has made headlines lately in this small, normally quiet county-the escape of a suspect in an assault-on-an-officer case. The suspect, Thomas Peabody…”
Sal gave an involuntary yelp as a photo of Peabody appeared on the screen.
“… remains at large. He was arrested after an altercation at an assembly in the Johnson City High School gymnasium. He resisted arrest, assaulting an officer in the process, and later escaped in the confusion when the officer-you guessed it-brought his prisoner to the sheriff’s office here, just after the current standoff began.”
The camera cut back to the reporter.
“Strangely, Peabody is credited with breaking up an attempted rape late last night, then disappearing once more before deputies arrived.”
Sal winced. An attempted rape? What was that all about? Goddamn-could they be referring to Vinnie? Did he try to rape that bird-loving broad? That’s all he needed, the cops breathing down his neck on account of his hard-dick son. Time to have a talk with the boy, tell him to ease off till further notice.
And what about this new suspect in the Gammel case? It could take the heat off Sal, stop the cops from digging into his connection with Gammel. Then all he’d have hanging over his head would be Emmett Slaton-and Vinnie had sworn on his grandmother’s grave that there wasn’t anything to worry about there.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
John Marlin couldn’t remember the last time he had walked through his front door and smelled dinner cooking. Months, surely…since before Becky had made the move to Dallas. He called out to Inga, not wanting to startle her after what she’d been through.
“I’m in here”-her voice came from the kitchen.
He found her standing in front of the stove, dressed in a turquoise V-neck shirt and tan shorts. She had her long blonde hair pulled back, but a few tresses had escaped and gently framed her face.
“You’re just in time,” she said, turning and handing him a cold beer in a frosted mug. “I found a package of ground beef in your fridge and decided to make some spaghetti. I hope you don’t mind.”
Mind? Marlin thought. Are you kidding? “Smells great,” he said. “But I should let you know: That’s not beef, it’s venison.”
Inga said, “Huh,” then leaned over the skillet and examined the saucy contents. “I was wondering about that. It smelled kind of different. I just figured-Texas cows.” She shrugged. “What the hell, I’ll give it a try.”
Marlin was shocked. “I thought you were against hunting. A few days ago, in the cafe, you said something about Rodney murdering innocent animals.”
“Well, this deer is already dead. Not a whole lot I can do for it now, is there?” She tapped a spatula against the side of the skillet and set it on the stovetop. “You think I’m a hypocrite?”
Marlin shook his head. “Hey, I’m not here to judge. I was just curious.”
She checked the spaghetti bubbling in a large pot. “Five more minutes and we’ll be ready to eat. You hungry?”
“Starving. And I really appreciate you-”
“Hey, it’s the least I can do, you helping me out like this.” She went to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer for herself. “So. Tell me about your day. Anything exciting happen?”
By dinnertime, Sal’s nerves had started to calm down a little. The power of positive thinking-either that, or a shitload of scotch.
Angela was sitting to his left in her usual place, quiet, avoiding eye contact. Jeez, there was no pleasing this woman. It had been-what? — a solid week since Sal had made a little trip out to Maria’s cabin, and Angela hadn’t warmed up at all. Woman was as cold as a New Jersey winter.
Vinnie was to his right, not exactly a fountain of conversation, either. The kid had been acting kind of weird ever since the cops had come by. He still had a lot to learn. Most of the time, when the cops ask a bunch of questions, it’s because they don’t have any answers. So you just keep your trap shut and tell them to get the fuck out of your house.
Maria entered through the kitchen door, her hands in oven mitts, carrying a casserole dish. Sal tried not to watch her, but it was damn near impossible. She was dressed in a big, loose blouse, but there was no hiding that body. The woman was hot, there was no denying it. She went to place the dish in the center of the table, and Sal couldn’t resist a peek down the front of her blouse. Just a quick glance before Angela could catch him. But then he saw something that put a lump in his throat and froze his eyes in place.
She was wearing one of those cheap homemade necklaces of hers. And hanging from it was the missing shell from his.35!
“Do you mind?” Angela asked.
Sal jerked his eyes toward her as Maria quickly left the room. “Wha…?”
Angela scowled and stared down at her plate. “Honestly, Sal.”
Sal attempted a gesture of innocence, then let it go. He ladled a large portion of casserole onto his plate and took a bite. “This food tastes like crap,” he said.
“This tastes great,” Marlin said, slurping down some spaghetti.
Inga nodded. “Thanks. I thought venison would be-I don’t know-kind of gamy. But it’s not.”
“Oh, you’ll get a batch now and then that’s pretty strong, but not this one. Sometimes, it’s all in how you prepare it.”