Dead Woman Crossing by J.R. Adler (books on motivation .txt) 📗

No criminal histories. Nothing out of the ordinary. I talked with a motel maid and a front-desk worker. They noted nothing unusual. I’m still checking on Airbnb guests.”

Sam rubbed his hand over his face. “Alright. I want all of that compiled and on my desk by tomorrow afternoon.”

“You got it.” Hill nodded and left the office with a slight limp.

Kimberley crossed her legs, tapping her fingers on her knee. She’d had cases like this before. Cases where there was nothing to go off on. And that was in New York City, a place with nearly nine million people, and she still somehow figured out the single person responsible, nearly every time. But this was different. This was one murder, not five, and this was Dead Woman Crossing, a town so small, they didn’t even bother counting how many people were in it. The odds were better here. She had learned as a detective that people can’t hide, and secrets don’t stay secrets forever. She was going to catch Hannah Brown’s murderer.

24

Kimberley drove through town in her newly assigned police vehicle, a Ford Explorer, with “Sheriff Custer County” plastered along the sides of the vehicle. She had stayed at the office later than usual, the last to leave, mulling over anything and everything pertaining to the case. When her stomach started to rumble and she noticed dusk had fallen, she packed up her tote bag with files to bring home with her. When she left New York, she promised herself that she would never take her work home with her again. Less than a week in, and she had already broken that promise.

The town of Dead Woman Crossing was quieter than usual. At the four-way stop, she noticed The Trophy Room was closed. All the lights were off, it was silent, and the men that typically hung outside smoking were nowhere to be seen. It was like a quarantine had been put over the town; no traffic, no one outside. Not only had she alienated herself from her family, but she was sure she had done the same with the whole town. With their beloved bar closed for the night, what would the townies do? Plot her demise? Or just drink cheap beer in their own homes without the comfort of their comrades. Were they scared? After all, one of their own was murdered and there was still a killer out on the loose.

Kimberley pulled into the long gravel driveway. Her headlights lit up the large white farmhouse, and she quickly turned them off. Wyatt was spending the night in jail, so Emily would be home alone with her two boys. Kimberley parked the vehicle off to the side and grabbed her bag from the passenger seat before getting out. She looked up at the farmhouse. A light was on in a room off to the left, which Kimberley knew to be the living room.

She stood there for a few moments, deciding whether or not to check in on Emily. Before her brain could decide, her feet were already pulling her toward the wraparound porch, and her knuckles were rapping softly on the door.

“Just a minute,” Emily called out.

Moments passed before she heard footsteps, the click of the lock, and the turn of the handle. Emily’s face immediately went sour when she saw Kimberley. The corners of her lips turned downward. Her eyes so narrowed you couldn’t slip a dollar bill between her lids. She didn’t bother to open the screen door for a proper greeting either. Kimberley looked at Emily through the screen, her face split up by a thousand tiny squares of aluminum, each one displeased with her presence.

“What do you want?” Emily’s voice was laced with anger and annoyance.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay. See if you needed anything?”

“Yeah, I need you to get off my front porch.”

“Emily, I’m not the enemy.”

Emily shook her head, wiping the side of her face against her shoulder. “And you’re not a friend either.”

“You have every right to feel that way, but your husband broke the law, and I’m just doing my job.”

“You couldn’t have come to us in private first? Asked him to stop? He would have listened. He would have done the right thing.” Her voice cracked as she forced out the words.

“I didn’t know about the moonshine, Emily. I was simply trying to line up Wyatt and Ryan’s stories on where they were when Hannah was murdered. He fessed up to the moonshine on his own, we didn’t even have to press him.” Kimberley paused, seeing the words stringing themselves heavy around Emily’s neck. “Look, for what it’s worth, I have seen a lot of scumbags in my career in rooms just like that, lying through their teeth, showing no remorse. This was weighing on Wyatt, and he didn’t hesitate to want that burden off of him. Your husband is a good man who was trying to do right by his family but just went about it the wrong way.”

Emily wiped the tears from her eyes and stared at Kimberley, waiting for her to go on.

“What he did isn’t that big of a deal, and him being cooperative really helps. He will probably just get a fine and some community service and life will go on as usual.”

“But we couldn’t afford nothin’ before. How are we supposed to pay off a fine?”

“I’m sure you will find a way. Maybe sell that equipment he bought and never used. Or take out a loan and collateralize the farmhouse. Talk to your dad—he might have some money hidden away. That’ll be for you guys to decide as a family.”

Emily stood silently, weighing her options.

“I really didn’t mean to cause your family harm. I didn’t even know about the moonshine; I just had some questions for him. That’s all.”

“Your family too, Kimberley.” Emily slowly closed the door on her, ending the conversation.

Her words cut through Kimberley, right to the center of her chest. She slumped her shoulders and shook