bathed her face, the old, musty smell hidden beneath the air pulled in from the outside. Bud Traynor’s facade, like the air conditioning, masked something old, musty, and rotten.
“You do amuse me so, Max. Tell me, are you fucking the good detective yet?”
She jolted as if he’d slapped her. Not because he hadn’t intimated the same thing before, but because it sounded so hollow coming from his mouth. Fucking. A physical act. A dirty, debasing act. She’d used the same word with Witt last night to make a point. Instead, she’d hurt him, and now she knew why.
But Witt had tried a power play on her, and she’d had to smash him down or lose her self-respect.
She moved on to her own agenda, ignoring Bud’s, which, obviously, he wasn’t going to tell her. “So how does Baxter Newton fit? You knew he’d be there, didn’t you?”
“I want to give you all the suspects I can, Max. I want to help solve Lance’s murder.”
If that was true, Bud had his own nefarious reasons. “Why?”
“Once you solve it, you’ll know why. Patience is a virtue, Max. I have an abundant amount. That’s exactly why I’ll have you in the end. Because one day there’ll be something you want from me so badly that you’ll do whatever I ask.”
Chills walked up her arms like someone had stepped on her grave. “There’s nothing you have that I’d want that much.”
Without turning to her, he smiled. “Yes, there is, Max, oh yes, there is. And you’ll do anything to get it.” He chanced a quick look at her, a smile quirking his lips. “Anything, Max.”
God, she hated the sound of his smug voice, hated the fear that burrowed into her bones like some all-consuming parasite. There could be nothing that important. Nothing. Could there?
“Baxter Newton.” She almost stuttered trying to return to the subject. “You were going to tell me what he has to do with all this.”
“Come now, Max, being Lance’s father-in-law automatically makes him a suspect.”
“Father-in-law?” she repeated dumbly.
“Julia’s father.”
“You’re kidding. They don’t look a thing alike.” Perhaps before turning gray, Baxter’s hair might have been the same brown as Julia’s and his eyes did have something of the same chocolate brown cast. “But he’s an inch shorter than she is.”
“She was wearing heels. I must admit, though, that if I didn’t know better, I’d say Baxter found her under the proverbial gooseberry bush, or his wife was fucking the garbage man. But I assure you, Max, they are father and daughter.”
His fingers moved on the seat between them. Wanting no surprises, Max put her back to the car door and faced him.
He smiled, reading right through her. “If he knew his daughter was being cuckolded, I’d say that was a pretty powerful motive for murder, wouldn’t you, Max?”
If Baxter Newton truly loved his daughter, yes. Their good-natured banter even in the face of Lance’s murder and Bud’s intrusion spoke of a loving relationship.
“Does he have an alibi?”
“He attended the same function that Julia did, Max.”
Max pursed her lips. “I suppose everyone vouches for him, too, the same as they did for Julia.”
That smile again, God, the man was really up to something, and Max didn’t like not knowing what. “Baxter was, in fact, Julia’s main alibi,” he revealed.
Her heart picked up the pace. “And was she his?”
“Exactly, my dear.” He turned to look directly at her this time. “Tell me, Max, don’t you think a daughter would want to protect her beloved father? And vice versa?”
Max chewed on the inside of her lip, chewed on all the possibilities, even as she thought of Bud Traynor’s dead daughter. Wendy would have lied for him simply because he’d force her to, and love be damned. “Baxter Newton doesn’t seem like the violent type. Most loving fathers don’t murder their daughters’ philandering husbands.”
Hand loose on the wheel, Bud
“You do amuse me so, Max. Tell me, are you fucking the good detective yet?”
She jolted as if he’d slapped her. Not because he hadn’t intimated the same thing before, but because it sounded so hollow coming from his mouth. Fucking. A physical act. A dirty, debasing act. She’d used the same word with Witt last night to make a point. Instead, she’d hurt him, and now she knew why.
But Witt had tried a power play on her, and she’d had to smash him down or lose her self-respect.
She moved on to her own agenda, ignoring Bud’s, which, obviously, he wasn’t going to tell her. “So how does Baxter Newton fit? You knew he’d be there, didn’t you?”
“I want to give you all the suspects I can, Max. I want to help solve Lance’s murder.”
If that was true, Bud had his own nefarious reasons. “Why?”
“Once you solve it, you’ll know why. Patience is a virtue, Max. I have an abundant amount. That’s exactly why I’ll have you in the end. Because one day there’ll be something you want from me so badly that you’ll do whatever I ask.”
Chills walked up her arms like someone had stepped on her grave. “There’s nothing you have that I’d want that much.”
Without turning to her, he smiled. “Yes, there is, Max, oh yes, there is. And you’ll do anything to get it.” He chanced a quick look at her, a smile quirking his lips. “Anything, Max.”
God, she hated the sound of his smug voice, hated the fear that burrowed into her bones like some all-consuming parasite. There could be nothing that important. Nothing. Could there?
“Baxter Newton.” She almost stuttered trying to return to the subject. “You were going to tell me what he has to do with all this.”
“Come now, Max, being Lance’s father-in-law automatically makes him a suspect.”
“Father-in-law?” she repeated dumbly.
“Julia’s father.”
“You’re kidding. They don’t look a thing alike.” Perhaps before turning gray, Baxter’s hair might have been the same brown as Julia’s and his eyes did have something of the same chocolate brown cast. “But he’s an inch shorter than she is.”
“She was wearing heels. I must admit, though, that if I didn’t know better, I’d say Baxter found her under the proverbial gooseberry bush, or his wife was fucking the garbage man. But I assure you, Max, they are father and daughter.”
His fingers moved on the seat between them. Wanting no surprises, Max put her back to the car door and faced him.
He smiled, reading right through her. “If he knew his daughter was being cuckolded, I’d say that was a pretty powerful motive for murder, wouldn’t you, Max?”
If Baxter Newton truly loved his daughter, yes. Their good-natured banter even in the face of Lance’s murder and Bud’s intrusion spoke of a loving relationship.
“Does he have an alibi?”
“He attended the same function that Julia did, Max.”
Max pursed her lips. “I suppose everyone vouches for him, too, the same as they did for Julia.”
That smile again, God, the man was really up to something, and Max didn’t like not knowing what. “Baxter was, in fact, Julia’s main alibi,” he revealed.
Her heart picked up the pace. “And was she his?”
“Exactly, my dear.” He turned to look directly at her this time. “Tell me, Max, don’t you think a daughter would want to protect her beloved father? And vice versa?”
Max chewed on the inside of her lip, chewed on all the possibilities, even as she thought of Bud Traynor’s dead daughter. Wendy would have lied for him simply because he’d force her to, and love be damned. “Baxter Newton doesn’t seem like the violent type. Most loving fathers don’t murder their daughters’ philandering husbands.”
Hand loose on the wheel, Bud
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