Buzz Off - By Hannah Reed Page 0,41

for a late lunch.” Hunter placed a hand on my shoulder. “Come on in and join me?

“Sounds great,” I said, realizing how hungry I was. “But why don’t you come out here instead?”

“Come in. He won’t hurt you.” Hunter opened the screen door and waited for me to enter. Ben was right there, standing guard at the door, but he let me pass without licking his chops.

“I heard you went over to the county K-9 unit.”

“Yep, it was the right move for me. Ben is my permanent canine partner, and we work as a team to train other dogs. I love it.” Hunter led me to the kitchen. The inside of the house was all warm wood, soft leather, and outdoorsy male.

“Sit down.” Hunter held up a deli package. “Is smoked turkey okay?”

I nodded and sat down while he built me a fabulous sandwich.

“There must have been a lot of evidence against Clay if Johnny Jay arrested him,” I said, taking a bite of the sandwich.

Hunter nodded. “Enough. No alibi, and his fingerprints all over your kayak.”

Because they had sex in my kayak, I wanted to say, but for all I knew that was a lie Clay had concocted to explain why his fingerprints would be found there. “Has he confessed?” I asked, taking another bite.

Hunter put away the sandwich makings and joined me at the table. “He isn’t talking at all, other than to demand an attorney.”

“Smart. That’s what I’d do.” Which was true, but that meant he hadn’t admitted that he’d tried to frame me by lying.

Hunter grinned. “The only difference is, I’d get a confession out of you. All I’d have to do is tickle your feet.”

“You remember.” I had always been extremely sensitive when it came to my feet. Hunter had made me wet my pants more than once during a teenage tickling fight.

“I remember more than that,” he reminded me. I tried not to blush and I think I pulled it off, even with him watching my reaction with a steady gaze.

“Did they find Faye’s other earring?” I asked.

Hunter shook his head. “It wasn’t in the brush along the shoreline, and the divers didn’t have any luck.”

“It wasn’t in Clay’s house?”

“No.”

“Where are they holding Clay?”

“Waukesha jail.” Hunter smiled. “You come out to pump me for information?”

“I came to ask for advice.”

Since I didn’t know where or how to begin, I just let the words fly without preamble. “Someone told Johnny Jay that I had a disagreement with Faye behind my house the night before we found her dead,” I said. “Which was a lie. I didn’t see her at all that night. But I did hear raised voices outside after dark. I didn’t tell Johnny Jay what I heard when I had the chance, and if I tell him now, he’ll think I’m making up a story to save myself. To make things worse, before Clay was arrested he told me the police chief thought my ex and I plotted to kill Faye Tilley together.”

“Tell me everything, starting at the beginning.”

So I did. At least everything I knew about Faye and Clay.

When I was through, Hunter stared into my eyes for the longest time. Then he looked down at his hands, which were folded on the table. He wasn’t a happy camper. I chewed my lower lip until it almost bled. When he finally responded, he said, “You should have told me about the scream when we found her.”

“I didn’t even remember it until Johnny Jay told me about the tip, and then it was too late to tell the truth.”

“She was killed late Friday night or early Saturday morning. The scream you heard helps establish the time that she was assaulted. That’s important.”

“I thought I was dreaming,” I said lamely.

Another long silence. I used to like that about Hunter, those times when we could just be together without filling up all the space. Now I wasn’t so sure.

“It’s never too late to tell the truth,” he finally said.

I wasn’t sure I agreed, at least in certain cases.

“Do you think Clay tried to frame me?”

“I don’t know what to think at this point,” Hunter said.

“How did Faye die?” I asked. “I didn’t see stab wounds or anything obvious.”

“She was held under the water until she drowned. That’s strictly confidential at this point.”

How awful for Faye. I almost couldn’t breathe, thinking about her struggling for air underneath all that river water.

“Wouldn’t it have taken a strong man to hold her under?” I pointed out. “Clay isn’t