Page 82 of Montana Memory

Detectives Johnson and Kelly stepped in like they owned the place, just like they had an hour ago when they showed up at Pawsitive Connections. Johnson gave me a short nod, like we were about to have a civil chat over coffee. Kelly didn’t bother with any of that. He just walked around the table and dropped into the chair across from me, posture relaxed, eyes anything but.

Johnson took the seat next to him and opened a folder slowly, deliberately. “Jada, before we ask you anything else, I’m going to read you your rights.”

I gave a tight nod. My hands were locked together in my lap, fingertips like ice.

Johnson’s voice was even, practiced. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…”

The words blurred at the edges, like I was hearing them through water. I focused on the table. On the small chip in the wood near the corner. Anything to keep from unraveling.

“Do you understand these rights as I’ve read them to you?” Johnson asked.

“Yes.” My voice barely broke a whisper. I cleared my throat and said it again. “Yes.”

He gave a quick nod and flipped a page in the folder. “We want to ask you a few questions about Alan Ard.”

I’d known it was coming. Didn’t make it easier to hear.

“How did you meet?”

I knew the answer secondhand. “I was visiting my brother in prison, where Alan was also incarcerated. Somehow Alan and I started talking, then we became a couple.”

Kelly wrote that down. His pen scratched across the page like he was tallying something.

“And are you aware that Alan Ard was killed in prison a few weeks ago?” Johnson asked.

“Yes.”

Kelly looked up. “Do you know who might have done it?”

I didn’t even blink. “No. I don’t have any idea.”

That part was true. All of it was. Even if they didn’t believe me.

Johnson’s pen clicked, loud in the silence. “How close would you say you were with Ard?”

“I don’t know,” I exhaled slowly, trying to keep my voice steady. “As close as you can be with someone when he’s in prison and you’re not. I think it wasn’t healthy. That he used me.”

“Why do you say that?” Kelly asked, pen ready again.

I hesitated, then went with what Jace had told me. “Alan talked me into opening a joint bank account with him while he was still inside. And as soon as he got out on parole…he emptied it. Completely cleared it out. It should’ve been ours, but he just took it.”

Johnson’s brows ticked up. “He drained the entire account? Was it a lot?”

“I guess that depends on how you define a lot.” I shrugged. “Over ten thousand dollars.”

“Anything else like that?” Kelly asked. “Financial stuff, anything suspicious?”

I hated that I couldn’t answer with anything solid. “I don’t know. I wish I did.”

Kelly didn’t back off. “You were with the guy, he was your boyfriend, but you don’t know if he was doing anything shady?”

I swallowed hard. “I’ve had some…trauma recently. It’s caused me to have some memory loss. Plus, I don’t really like thinking too much about Alan, especially since he’s dead.”

Johnson just made another note. Kelly glanced at me once, then looked away.

I sat there bracing, my body tense in the chair, waiting for the real questions to start.

Kenzie Hurst. The kidnapping. The hospital. Why I ran. Why I ended up in Montana like I was trying to disappear.

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