Page 89 of Deputy Brand Gets Her Man
“Yeah, I got that. I’m not here about…that. I um…I got you this.” He held out a large yellow envelope.
She frowned and took it. “What is it?”
“A photo of Elena, walking into an attorney’s office with her husband the day they filed to contest the will. It’s grainy, from a surveillance video.”
“And how did you get it?” she asked as she slid the print from the envelope.
“I know people. Some still owe me favors.”
She looked down at the photo, then frowned. “That’s not Elena.”
“Nope.”
“That is her husband, though.”
“Yep.”
She lifted her head slowly. “She never contested the will. She was tellin’ the truth when she said she knew nothin’ about it.”
He nodded. “I think her husband and his accomplice…”
“Lover,” she said. “Look at the way she’s lookin’ at him.”
He looked at the photo again. Something came and went in his eyes.
She saw it, wondered about it even as she fit the pieces together. “As soon as he got word that they’d won their case, and the money was deposited, he tried to have Elena killed, so he’d get all of it. Problem is, he hired the most incompetent trio of criminals Quinn County has to offer.”
“I wonder how much he paid ‘em.”
“A hundred thousand,” came a weak and hoarse voice from the bed.
Willow returned to her spot beside it. “Hey, Tuck. I gotta tell you your rights, okay?”
He nodded, and she recited the Mirandas, then explained what they meant and asked if he understood. He said he did.
“So I need you to tell me, if you still want to,” Willow said. “who offered you money to hurt Elena Montrose?”
“Mr. Montrose. Elena’s husband. He said he wanted her dead fast, and we’d get paid soon as it was done.” He shook his head. “We done a lot of shit for him, my brothers and me. Bustin’ out windows and stuff. The pharmacy, and even Montrose’s own house one day.”
“And the WTD,” Willow said, “on a stolen motorcycle.”
“No ma’am,” Tuck replied. No hesitation, no forethought. “That wasn’t us. That one he done himself. Then he asked us to take the motorbike and hide it somewhere near the bunkhouse over on the Texas Brand.” He shrugged. “But we know better’n that.”
They’d better, she thought.
“We never kilt anybody before. I said no way. So did Tank, but you know, just with his eyes.”
“With his eyes.”
Tuck nodded.
Jeremiah was riveted, wondered if Willow was getting it all down, and saw her phone in her hand. She was recording.
“Tell me how it happened,” she said.
“We was in the truck, the three of us. Stu wanted to go for a ride, maybe get some beers. But he drove past the Bend, way the heck out past the county line, and there she was, out jogging on the street. I saw the look in Stu’s eyes. He knew she’d be there, I’ll tell you what. And he just…he just stomped it, turned the wheel and he hit her.” He closed his eyes and shuddered. “She flew, man, I never saw nothin’ like it. Landed like a rag doll. I was sure she was dead.” He lowered his head, shaking it hard. “I was some relieved when you told us she wasn’t.”
“Then what happened?” Willow asked.
