“What can I do for the FBI this morning?”
Richard made the appropriate introductions. “We’d like to come in and ask you some questions.”
Troy hesitated and seemed to weigh the pros and cons of allowing two FBI agents into his home. He finally gave a curt nod and opened the door, going inside ahead of them.
When he disappeared into the dark interior, Richard and Mark exchanged glances. The door remained open in invitation, but invitation to what? Both men drew their weapons and advanced toward the door.
Mark went in first to see Troy slumped against a corner of a sofa. As he saw Mark’s gun he raised his hands above his head in alarm. “Look, I know the place is a mess, but I didn’t know you shot men for that.”
Mark relaxed a bit and holstered his gun as Richard did the same. Troy motioned them to two chairs across from him, one of them holding a take-out pizza container and the other a pile of newspapers. The house smelled of rotten garbage, dirty clothes and stale booze.
“Just toss that crap on the floor,” Troy said, and raised a hand to the side of his forehead where he rubbed as if to ease a headache. “My loving wife left me two months ago and I haven’t felt like cleaning up since then.”
Unlike the night Mark had seen him in the bar, pumped up by alcohol, shoulders rigid with indignation as he spewed vitriol, the man in front of them now appeared smaller, beaten down by life and circumstances beyond his control.
Mark moved the pizza box to the floor and sat in the chair opposite Troy. “We’re here to talk to you about your correspondence with Senator Merris.”
“You mean all the hate mail that I sent to the bastard.” Troy nodded. “I wondered when somebody would be around to ask me about it. I’m surprised you haven’t been here to talk to me before now.”
Richard sat in the chair next to Mark and pulled out a small pocket recorder. “Do you mind?” he asked as he turned it on to tape the conversation. Troy shrugged, didn’t seem to care one way or the other. “You must have a lot of anger directed at the senator.”
Troy snorted. “We both know that’s an understatement. I won’t lie, I hated the man, his policies and his corruption. He robbed good people of their jobs. He destroyed my father with his greed.”
“Several of your notes and emails indicated something to the effect that he would ‘get his.’ What exactly did you mean by that?” Richard asked.
Troy leaned forward. “I sure as hell didn’t mean that I intended to strangle him to death. I was talking about karma, you know, that somehow karma would make him pay for his crimes, that eventually something bad would happen to him. Guess I was right, karma got him.” He slumped back against the sofa back.
“We’re not looking for a killer named karma,” Mark replied drily. “It was a real person who strangled the senator and the others.”
“And speaking of the others, we also understand that you had quite a few run-ins with Sheriff Burris.”
Once again Troy’s features darkened. “That man was a bully who liked pushing people around and he seemed to take special pleasure pushing me. I’m the only person in town who got a ticket for spitting on the sidewalk. Now, do you really think I’m the only cowboy in this one-horse town who ever spit on the sidewalk?” His outrage was showing. His face flushed with color and he was no longer slumping into the sofa but rather sat up straight, shoulders tensed.
He gazed first at Richard and then at Mark. “You two think I had something to do with those murders? Anyone in town will tell you I hated both of them. They’ll also tell you I’m a drunk, a loudmouthed blowhard, but I’m not a killer.”
“Did you know David Reed?” Mark asked. Instantly Troy’s shoulder grew more rigid and the flush on his face deepened.
Troy swiped a hand down his jaw, suddenly looking far older than his years. “I’m not going to lie to you. You’re probably going to hear about it around town anyway. It was all the gossip when it happened. Yeah, I knew him. He’s the reason my wife left me.”
A person of interest with personal ties to all three victims. It wasn’t looking good for blowhard Troy Young, Mark thought. “What do you mean he’s why your wife left you?” Mark