Page 128 of What She Saw
His jaw pulsed as he got out of the car and spoke to the officer. When he returned, he didn’t look any happier. “They can watch her for a day or two. But they can’t watch her forever.”
“Understood. My next visit will be her father. She’s handled this secret better than he has. He looks like a man eaten up with guilt and remorse.”
He drove out of the neighborhood to a small coffee shop in a generic strip mall. “What do you want?”
“I’ll take anything.”
“Easy enough.” Ten minutes later, Grant returned with a soda, a coffee, and two wraps.
Parchment paper crinkled as I lifted a rolled tortilla to my mouth. I took a big bite, amazed at how much I needed food. “Thank you.”
“I’ll buy you all the wraps after today’s break.”
“I still haven’t found the bodies.”
“You’re closer than anyone has ever gotten.”
“Close doesn’t count.”
“Close is better than a million miles away, which is where we were two weeks ago.”
I wanted to believe Susan was on Team Outcast, but I couldn’t make the jump. She wasn’t telling me everything. “Who else would keep Colton’s secret all this time?” I asked.
“Assuming they’re still alive?”
“Let’s pretend that this person is alive for now.” My thoughts drifted to Kevin Pascal, Sheriff Paxton, and Bailey Briggs Jones. All had beenat the festival. All knew Colton. “Colton was a charmer and could convince anyone to do anything.”
“Hiding three bodies is a hell of an ask,” Grant said.
I understood manipulation. It wasn’t hard if you didn’t care about consequences. Colton and I were cut from the same cloth.
“You aren’t Colton.” Grant was watching me.
His ability to read me was unsettling. “I didn’t say I was.”
“But you’re thinking it.”
“Did I tell you my old man is in prison for life? He hacked three people to death two years after the festival. The prosecutor reported that Daddy showed no emotion or remorse at his trial. He laughed at sentencing. The media called him a psychopath.”
“None of us can pick our families, Sloane.”
That prompted a startled laugh. “We also can’t escape the genetics they dump in us, either.”
“How many violent crimes have you committed?”
“Defineviolent.”
“You know what I mean.”
“None.” I sighed. “I don’t feel emotions like real people, Grant. I’m not as violent as Larry, but I’m not even close to the angel Patty was.”
“Saints aren’t very interesting.”
“You don’t get it. I don’t feel at all.” Sensing his disappointment, I added, “I want to. But I don’t.”
“I think you do care. You care about this case.”
“It’s a puzzle. I love puzzles.”
