Page 99 of What She Saw
“I didn’t like it, but I knew he’d find nothing. Cops got to do what they got to do. Part of the job.”
“What about Colton?”
“Colton. He was charming. Fun.”
A car drove past, and the driver glanced in our direction. Kevin shifted, uncomfortable. “I drove Debra to the festival, saw her once at the stage, and then lost track of her. That’s all I have.”
“Why did you leave town for twenty years?”
“Hard living here after the festival. The festival was a raw wound for a lot of years.”
“And you came back when the coast was clear?”
His lips thinned. “Yep. This place is home.”
“What’s the deal with the barn on Miller Road?”
His jaw pulsed. “What do you want to know? It’s falling in on itself. Used to be part of a large farm.”
“You used to go there when you were younger?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Just asking. Did you take Debra there when you dated?”
“Sure. We camped out there a couple of times. Why does that matter?”
“Was it searched when the women vanished?”
“I’m sure it was.” He shifted. “I hear the land has been purchased, and the barn is going to be torn down.”
“Who bought it?”
“I don’t know.” He took a step back.
“Seen Marsha Sullivan since you returned home?”
“No.”
I enjoyed watching the tension ripple through his body. “I like her. We had a nice conversation.”
“Okay. Great. If that’s all you got, I’m done. And going forward, leave me alone.”
Chapter Thirty
CJ Taggart
Wednesday, May 25, 1994, 6:00 p.m.
4 Days After
Taggart parked in front of the small house that Rafe Colton had rented a few miles from Dawson. Colton had moved in three months ago, when festival planning had kicked into high gear. He’d been a fixture in town offices and council meetings. Whenever there was doubt about the festival’s feasibility, he was there to charm anyone who needed persuading.
Taggart strode up to the front door and knocked. Inside, rock music blared. When he didn’t hear footsteps, he pounded hard.
The door opened and a bleary-eyed Colton faced him. He flashed a broad, disarming grin. “Sheriff. Hey. The cleanup crews should be on-site any minute.”
“I was there midday and didn’t see anyone.” Four days after the festival ended, the Nelson farm looked like a garbage dump. Trash, clothes, and shoes littered the trampled ground.
