The Pact (Kate Burkholder #11.5) - Linda Castillo Page 0,12

the words with gusto, but he’s not a very good liar.

“Were you on Township Road 4 at any time in the last twenty-four hours?” I ask.

“I don’t go out that way.” The boy’s eyes go wide. “You think I ran him over?”

“I think I want you to answer the question.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” He steps back, looks up at his father. “Dad? What the hell?”

“You got your answer, Chief Burkholder.” Chris Mason sets his hand on his son’s shoulder and squeezes. “Doug had nothing to do with the Kline boy getting hurt. If you have any more questions, we’ll do this with an attorney present.”

I close my notebook. “Thank you for your time.”

A few minutes later, Tomasetti and I are back in the Explorer. “What do you think?” I ask.

“I think he just reminded me why I don’t trust any male under the age of thirty,” he grumbles.

“Jealousy can be a powerful motive.”

“Teenagers don’t have the strongest impulse control to begin with.”

“In light of the texts he sent Ashley Hodges, I’d say he just moved to the top of my suspect list.”

* * *

According to Mervin Kline, Benjamin Weaver had once been best friends with Noah, but the two boys had some sort of falling out. Located ten miles west of Painters Mill, Killbuck is a small village with a population of about eight hundred souls. Benjamin lives a few miles out of town in a small house nestled in the hills along scenic State Route 520. The driveway is a gauntlet of potholes and the occasional piece of junk. An older sedan sits next to a beat-up looking Jeep Grand Cherokee. A chain-link fence encloses the front yard that’s been stomped to dirt. A sorrel gelding watches us from a loafing shed surrounded by livestock panels at the back of the house.

“Jeep is covered with mud,” Tomasetti says as he opens the door.

He gets out and starts toward the vehicle. I’m on my way to the house when a twentysomething man wearing insulated coveralls and a ski cap comes through the door. He does a double take upon spotting me.

“Can I help you?” he asks.

I have my badge at the ready. “Benjamin Weaver?”

His eyes flick from me to Tomasetti, who’s a few yards away looking at the Jeep, and back to me. “I’m Ben.”

“Do you know Noah Kline?”

“Yeah, I know him.” He grimaces. “I heard what happened. You guys find out who did it?”

I’m thinking about the grapevine, how quickly news travels, and I wonder if it’s common knowledge that the incident wasn’t an accident—or if this young man knows more than he should. “We’re talking to everyone who knows him.” I pause, watching him. He seems more interested in Tomasetti and his proximity to the Jeep.

“How do you know Noah?” I ask.

His gaze shifts back to me. “I’ve known Noah since we were kids. We grew up together. We’ve been friends for years.”

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

“A couple of months ago.”

“That’s a long time not to see your best friend,” I say.

A cognizance flits across his expression. “I reckon you talked to his datt.”

“I understand you had an argument with Noah.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that.” He heaves a sigh of resignation. “Yeah, I’m pissed at Noah. But I had nothing to do with what happened to him.”

“Where were you last night?”

“I drove down to the Brass Rail, had a few drinks, and played some pool.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah, I was alone.”

Tomasetti climbs the steps to the porch and joins us. Ben looks at him, curious, a little intimidated. Tomasetti doesn’t identify himself, never takes his eyes off the young man, saying nothing about the Jeep.

“What was the argument about?” I ask.

“He courted my little sister, Loretta, for a while.” The corners of his mouth turn down, as if he’s swallowed something foul. “She was only sixteen at the time. Shy. Sweet. He was her first boyfriend and she was crazy about him. I was cool with the whole thing. I mean, Noah’s a good guy, right?” Shaking his head, he looks down at his work boots. “Or so I thought.”

“What happened?”

“He slept with her.” Emotions akin to anger and shame flash in his eyes, and I think about how deep some Amish mores go. “She thought they were going to get married. Then all of a sudden he’s with that English girl and it’s like my sister doesn’t exist. It just about killed her, and it sure didn’t do shit for her reputation. You know how

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