antics were getting a little old. At least for me. Your mileage may vary, but I think you had less patience for his shit than I did. You just covered it better."
"It's sounds like you hate him."
"I'll say this again - I didn't hate him. I didn't love him either. He could be fun, I'll admit that. I liked competing with him because he was so easy to provoke. He hated to fucking lose at anything, and he was a sore winner, too. I was looking forward to Caroline screaming my name when he fucked her."
It was hard for Ryan to believe he'd once been friends with these people, but he had. It didn't say much for his own taste.
I was young and didn't know shit.
"Do you hear yourself talking?" Ryan asked, exasperation in his tone. "You sound like the asshole here, not Brad."
"I'm just telling it like it is. You wanted honesty and now you've got it. You just don't like what I'm saying, but you know that I'm right about Brad. That's why you two weren't close that last year. I heard he tried something with Mariah, but I don't think that's true."
So the friend group had been talking about that? Ryan shouldn't have been surprised. They talked about everyone.
"You think Brad was garbage but you don't think he tried something with Mariah? That doesn't make sense."
Trent's smile grew wider. "I think that because if Brad had tried anything with Mariah you would have broken both of his arms and his pretty face, too."
Ryan hadn't broken any of Brad's bones but he'd wanted to. It had only been the pleadings of Mariah that had kept him from doing it. She hadn't wanted what happened to ripple through their friend group.
"I have more self-control than that."
"Not about Mariah, you don't. I was always surprised that you two didn't get married."
Lots of people had been surprised.
"Some things aren't meant to be."
"I don't believe in love," Trent declared. "At least not for me, but I always thought that if anyone had that it was you and Mariah."
At one point, I thought that, too.
"Love isn't always enough." Ryan didn't want to discuss his relationships. He needed to steer the conversation back on track. "I have one more question. Where did you go when you left the bar that night?"
"I went back to my place. Caroline showed up about thirty minutes later and stayed until about five."
That didn't match earlier statements.
"Caroline told me that she went home alone."
"She may have left the bar alone but she didn't stay that way. She showed up at my door half-drunk."
"Her story is that she went straight home, went to sleep, and then to the airport in the morning."
"I'm not lying. I was with her."
"Can you prove it?"
Laughing, Trent shook his head. "No, but then neither can she."
That was true. That was the problem with cold cases.
"Wait," Trent said, holding up his hand. "There might be someone that can back up my story. The guy who lived across the hall from me was a real night owl. If I came home from the bar alone, he would sometimes come over and we'd drink a few beers."
"How did he know if you were alone?"
"His balcony window overlooked my parking space. He'd sit out there and smoke. He might remember Caroline showing up that night."
"I'll check him out. What was his name?"
"Steve Alton. I remember that he had a weekly sports column in one of those newspapers that they give out free."
That information narrowed it down just enough that Ryan might actually find the guy. But would he remember a random night over ten years ago?
"I'll try and find him. Talk to him."
"Tell him I said hello." Trent settled back down into the chair, his confidence returned. "I'm telling you the truth. I don't have anything to hide. I didn't like Brad that much but I didn't hurt him. I didn't have any reason to."
It appeared that no one had a reason to, but somehow Brad had ended up dead. And Ryan didn't think that it was an accident.
16
Grant Hillard was a great guy. He owned his own successful business. He was intelligent, funny, and knew how to pair wines with food. He was well-read, well-traveled, and not in the least pretentious. Mariah had been on three dates with him and had enjoyed herself each time.
But...something was missing. There was no spark, no excitement. Her pulse didn't pound and she didn't get breathless when she saw him even though