Page 65 of Fatal Fame
"That would be me."
"Mia Sutherland. I'm from High Peaks. I was hoping to speak with you about the Hale murder case."
Connor's expression shifted from professional politeness to wariness, his posture changing in ways that suggested the topic remained sensitive despite the passage of years. "You some kind of private investigator?"
Mia chuckled. "No."
"With the police department?"
"No."
"Then I have nothing to say to you," Connor said, turning away to return to his work beneath the lifted vehicle.
"You saw a second vehicle the night of the murders, is that correct?"
Connor stopped and looked back, his expression carrying a mixture of frustration and resignation. "It doesn't matter."
"It does to me."
"No, I mean it doesn't matter. No one believed me back then, and they sure as hell wouldn't believe me now. Besides, it's been too long. Had they checked with the DMV back then, maybe they could have found it, but..." He gestured helplessly. "Look, I'm busy."
"Just five minutes of your time, and I promise I'll be out of your hair."
Connor studied her for several seconds, seeming to weigh the wisdom of reopening old wounds against the possibility that someone might finally listen to what he'd been trying to say for a decade. Finally, he nodded.
"Make it quick."
He led her toward the back of the garage, past workbenches cluttered with automotive parts and tools that represented decades of accumulated equipment. The lunch room occupied a small space that had probably been an office in the building's previous incarnation. Everything bore a thin layer of motor oil and grease that seemed to permeate every surface in the building. Chairs, table, even the coffee maker that sat on a counter beside a microwave had seen better years.
Connor poured himself coffee then offered her a cup, which she declined. He lit a cigarette, then cleared newspapers from one of the chairs to make space for her to sit. The papers were several days old, their headlines already ancient history in the accelerated news cycle.
"Take me back to that night," Mia said, pulling out her notepad. "How old you were, what you saw, the timing. Anything you can remember."
Connor slumped into his chair and took a long drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing red in the fluorescent light of the small room. Smoke drifted toward a ceiling fan that moved the air without actually improving it.
"I was twelve, out on my bike. I used to do a circuit of the neighborhood every evening after dinner. My parents fought a lot back then, and riding gave me an excuse to get out of the house when things got loud."
"You remember seeing Rebecca and Jacob that night?"
"Yeah. Jacob was home doing homework at the kitchen table—I could see him through the window when I rode past aroundseven. Rebecca came back maybe an hour or two later. I can't remember exactly, but it was getting dark."
Connor paused to ash his cigarette into a coffee cup that served as an ashtray. "Anyway, I'd seen this dark blue Honda Civic with tinted windows driving around the neighborhood. It stood out because it drove past Rebecca's house one way, then turned around and came back the other way, then did it again. I might have figured the driver was lost, except I'd seen the same car in the neighborhood several times before."
"Roughly how many times?"
"I don't know. Four, maybe five times over a matter of weeks. It would always drive slowly past Rebecca's house. A few times it parked on the street outside, never in the driveway. Just sitting there with the engine running."
Connor took another drag from his cigarette, his eyes distant. "That night, I saw it driving toward Rebecca's house while I was heading the other direction. I noted it but didn't think much about it—like I said, I'd seen it before. But when I rode back maybe twenty minutes later, I noticed it was actually in the driveway."
"In Rebecca's driveway?"
"Yeah. First time I'd seen it there instead of just on the street. When I circled back again, it pulled out at extreme speed. I swear it would have hit me if I hadn't stopped my bike. I was pissed off, so I gave the driver the finger."
"And then what happened?"
"The window came down, and some guy yelled a curse word at me, then drove off. Nearly clipped me as he accelerated away."
"So you saw the driver?"
