The Killing Vision - By Will Overby Page 0,56

the notch in the wall and rolled up a joint. He fired it up and sat down in the old chair, watching the leaves rustle in the trees outside.

Last night had been a strange one. He had fully intended to clean up after work and head into town, to cruise by the Capitol and meet up with Shelley and Abby again. But neither Marla nor Derek was home when he got there. The pickup was gone, and there was no sign of dinner. He sat down on the couch to wait for one of them to pull into the drive and fell asleep watching the news. When he awoke, it was almost eleven, Derek was coming through the front door smelling like old grease and hamburgers, and Marla was still gone. He ate a bowl of Frosted Flakes and sat stupidly looking at the television, his head thick and groggy.

And when Marla came through the door a few minutes later, looking disheveled and flustered, he simply looked at her and said, “Where the fuck have you been?”

She averted her gaze from him and walked through the room toward the stairs. “I went to the movies.”

“Alone?”

She stared back at him this time, meeting his eyes. “Yes. Then I went and got something to eat.”

He felt rage building up in his gut. “You think I believe that?”

A muscle was working in her jaw. “I don’t care what you believe.” She tromped on upstairs, and Wade heard her moving around in the bedroom, then the sound of the shower.

He sat there, still looking at the television screen, wondering if she had been out with another man and why he didn’t just get up and beat the shit out of her. But in the end he decided he was just too damned tired. The last weekend of partying seemed to have caught up with him, and all he wanted to do was rest. And besides, even if Marla was seeing someone, he really didn’t give a fuck anymore. He flipped off the TV and made his way upstairs and collapsed next to her in the bed.

And now as he sat in the dry heat of the barn and watched the shadows of the trees play across the green grass outside, he took another hit off the joint and thought of what he would do if Marla was cheating. In the end he figured it might be for the best. He would be free to do whatever the hell he wanted.

Wade smiled and felt his body melt into the chair. He would finish the joint and then get started on the brakes. And later he might head into town and try to meet up with the girls.

The day stretched lazily before him, full of fun and promise.

* * *

1:15 PM

Halloran stared at the remaining fries on his plate and took another sip of his Coke. He and Chapman had met for lunch at a small diner near the police station to talk about what their next move would be. He hoped it wouldn’t involve looking for a new job.

Last night had not gone well. Other than the clippings and the sex sling in the basement, the search of the mayor’s house had turned up nothing. Larry Carver was pissed. Chief Pettus was pissed. Hell, Halloran was pissed himself. Something wasn’t adding up. He was missing something, he knew it.

“You gonna eat those?” Chapman asked, pointing to Halloran’s fries.

Halloran grunted and slid the plate across the table. He watched Chapman shove the fries into his mouth and for a split second felt a shiver of revulsion. He licked his dry lips. He really needed a cigarette, but since the city passed the smoking ban last March he would have to wait until he got out to the car before lighting up. “You’ve certainly got a healthy appetite,” Halloran said.

Chapman licked his fingers. “I eat when I’m nervous. Especially when I’m about to be on the unemployment line.”

“Nobody’s going to be on the unemployment line,” Halloran said, and hoped he sounded convincing. “Besides, who’re they going to get to do our jobs?”

“Brooks would make a good detective,” Chapman said.

Halloran nodded. “I’ve thought the same thing myself. He doesn’t have the experience yet, though.”

“Or the training.”

Halloran blew out a breath. “I just knew we’d find something at Carver’s house. I felt it.”

Chapman popped the last fry into his mouth. “Maybe the lab will come up with something off those swabs.”

“Maybe.” Halloran sipped his Coke. “In the meantime, we’ll