“What?” I ask.
“Yeah. Go ahead, call her. I'm sure you know the number to the hotel by now. If not, it's in my phone. I'd be happy to give it to you. We were in room two-twelve. She checked in yesterday and is planning on checking out this morning. But that might change because of all this.”
“You were with her?”
“Yes.”
“All evening?” I ask.
“Since the afternoon. I came back to the station long enough to fill out some paperwork. Esther must have thought I was here longer, but if you look at my computer, you'll see the times I signed on and off.”
“I saw you here,” I point out.
“Yes. After I left the station, I came by here before going back to the hotel. I needed to talk to Jake about what he told you.”
“What he told me?” I ask, confused.
LaRoche narrows his eyes, his head tilting slightly.
“You mean, he didn't tell you about Andrea and Cristela?”
“Jake knew?” I ask, startled by the revelation.
“Of course, he knew. He helped me. When Cristela came into town, Jake brought her to the hotel. He made sure it seemed like he was giving her a ride home to keep her safe. They would leave the bar and go around the back way to the hotel. If you check his records, I'm sure you'll see her name.”
“She checked into the hotel days before she died, and there's no signature when she checked out,” I tell him.
“That's because I checked us out. I was waiting for her at the hotel. She was supposed to do just as she always did. Go to Teddy's, spend a couple hours there, then have Jake bring her to me. But she never showed up.”
“At the hotel?” I ask.
“At Teddy's. She left the hotel to go back to her house because she thought she left something. Jake called me hours later to tell me she never made it to the bar. I dropped the hotel key in the deposit box beside the desk, took her stuff with me, and left. I figured her boyfriend caught wind of what was going on or something, and I'd hear from her within a day or two. That happened before. But then I didn't hear from her. Then…”
“They found her body,” I finish his sentence. He nods. “And when they did, you didn't point out you were with her? That you had her belongings or were supposed to see her that night?”
“I didn't make the best choices. I know that. But I didn't know how else to handle it,” he says.
“I guess making too big of a deal out of the whole thing would make it harder for you to keep up your thing with Andrea,” I muse. “Wouldn't want her knowing your last fling ended up dead.”
“My attraction to Andrea wasn't planned. But I shouldn't have to justify it. I told you already my relationship with Cristela wasn't committed. It was consensual fun for both of us. That doesn't mean I didn't care about her well-being, but I wasn't obligated to her.”
My skin crawls, listening to him. He disgusts me even more now than he did before.
“A small town is plagued by disappearances and murders, and the police department can't seem to figure it out or make it stop. Then it turns out one of the victims was screwing the police chief. You don't think that should have warranted more discretion than just going to a hotel a few towns over with your new friend with benefits?” I ask.
“Look, I know this looks bad. That's why I didn't say anything. It could have put my entire career in jeopardy.”
“I don't know if you really should have been so worried. It's not like your corrupt father had any problems.”
“Excuse me?” he asks, his voice lowering angrily. “What did you say about my father?”
“Jake told me about the problems his father had with Cole Barnes and with the rest of the town. He said he was an honest businessman, and that rubbed some people, including your father, the wrong way.”
“John Logan was a lot of things, but an honest businessman wasn't one of them. Now, I don't know what happened between him and Barnes, but it had nothing to do with Barnes swindling anybody or my father covering anything up,” he says.
“I don't understand,” I frown.
LaRoche seems to let go of some of the tight, angry tension built up through his shoulders and along his spine.
“Sometimes, we tell stories to make things seem better than they really are. It's easier for Jake to think of the rest of the town having a grudge against his father because he was the honest and upstanding one among the riffraff. But I'll be the one to tell you when there were questions about how his father died, it wasn't necessarily who might have been willing to help him along to the other side, but who wouldn't have. Now Jake's gone, too, and I have to be the one to figure out if they have anything to do with each other.”
“Why would you think that?” I ask.
“You're the one who pointed out to Cole Barnes he wouldn't have been strong enough to haul those bones up to his property by himself. I find it hard to believe someone would do that just for show,” LaRoche explains.
“Who else knew Jake's father helped Barnes build that shed?” I ask.
“What shed?” he asks.
“The one where the bones were found.”
“How did you know about that? That wasn't released to the public.”
This takes me slightly aback.
“We must have heard it at the crime scene when Jake ran up.”
“Probably. Those investigators aren't exactly known for being discreet. I would appreciate if you didn't share that with anyone. We're purposely keeping that bit of information out of the media. Now, you need to leave.”
“I'll tell you now there's no point in putting another officer outside the cabin. They aren't going to stop me,” I say.
“No, Emma. I didn't mean leave here. I meant leave Feathered Nest.”
“Excuse me?”
So much has just come at me I think I must have misheard him.
“The danger we all hoped had moved on is obviously back. Until we find out who is responsible for these disappearances and killings, everyone in this town is at risk. I'm under enough pressure trying to protect the people of the town who have been here through all of this. I can't be responsible for you, too. Especially when you consider how close you and Jake were getting. You're too unpredictable and emotional about this. You're just going to get in the way,” he says.
“I don't care how emotional you think I am. I'm not going anywhere, and there's nothing you can do to force me. If you had done your job in the first place, this wouldn't be happening. I'm not leaving until Jake is found.”
I pull open the door to the office, but LaRoche steps up close to the opening, so I can't go through.
“Stay out of our way, Emma. You don't know what you're getting yourself into,” he warns.
“You have no idea who you're talking to,” I tell him, and push past him and outside.
For the next three hours, I drive slowly around Feathered Nest. I have no idea exactly what I'm looking for, but I'm waiting for something, anything to stand out at me. LaRoche did his best to pretty-talk his way out of my suspicion, but I still don't trust him. Call me crazy, but I don't often find myself taking the word of an unethical, devious, lying, manipulative womanizer as gold. He's unreliable, to give him the very best, and I can't bring myself to wholly believe anything he says.
But some of what he said has started gears turning in my brain. No matter how deep I’ve explored in to Feathered Nest, there always seems to be another layer just beneath. My car stopped in front of the cemetery almost automatically. I can't even remember driving here. My mind was somewhere else, and my hands brought me along in autopilot. I climb out and walk back through the huge gate to the tombstones I've come to know. My eyes anticipate the names and carvings before I even get to the graves, and I know when I'm steps away from the edge of John Logan's empty resting place.