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with.

Henry’s eyes bounced from Sam to Kimberley and then back to Sam again.

“Or we can haul you down to the station?” Kimberley said, raising her chin.

Henry gave a slight nod and headed toward the door. People stared and whispered as Kimberley and Sam walked behind him like he was a dog on a leash.

Outside, Sam pointed to an empty picnic table at the far end toward the back of the bar. Henry shuffled his feet, kicking up loose rocks as he walked. Sam and Kimberley sat on one side and Henry sat on the other, slightly slumped over.

“So, what’s this about?” he asked again.

Kimberley looked at Sam and then back at Henry. “Do you know Hannah Brown?”

Henry drew his brows together. “Yeah. Went to high school with her. But haven’t talked to her in years.” He scratched the back of his neck. “We were close for a couple years after we graduated. But not once she started dating Tyler. He was her whole life until he split. Then her baby was her whole life, I guess.”

Kimberley let out a deep breath. Everyone in this damn town went to high school together and, apparently, that was their only connection to Hannah.

Before Kimberley could ask another question, Henry was talking again. “I mean, it’s sad what happened to her.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But like I said, I don’t really know her no more.”

“Were you upset that you two weren’t close anymore?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“No, not at all. I’ve got my life and she… had hers.” The corners of his mouth dropped.

Kimberley couldn’t tell if he was sad, dumb or guilty.

“It’s come to our attention that you were on Old Man Kent’s Deer Creek ghost tour a little over five weeks ago,” Kimberley said, raising her shoulders.

“That’s why y’all are asking me about Hannah? Because of a ghost tour?” His brow furrowed.

“That’s correct. Why were you on the ghost tour?” Sam cocked his head.

“I don’t know. Something to do.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“You have any sort of fascination with true crime?” Kimberley asked.

“True crime? Like murders?”

“That would be one example. Sure.”

“Not really. I’ve seen some true-crime docs on Netflix, but that’s about it.” Henry shuffled around on the bench.

“So, you’re telling us that you went on that ghost tour alone because it was something to do?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m telling you.”

“What do you do for a living?” Kimberley asked.

“Farming.”

“So, you regularly use things like machetes, axes, maybe a scythe?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re aware that Hannah was murdered down by Big Deer Creek?” Sam asked.

Henry nodded.

“And she was killed in the exact same way at Katie DeWitt James?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

Henry swallowed hard. Kimberley could see his Adam’s apple move up and down. He looked out at the parking lot and then back at Sam.

“You must be aware. After all, you went on Kent’s ghost tour. The one that tells the story of Katie’s murder.” Kimberley cocked her head.

Henry fiddled with his fingers and bit at the inside of his lower lip. Once again, she couldn’t tell if he was guilty or dumb, like he was still trying to put the pieces together or he had been caught. Stupid and guilty were often confused for one another in this line of work.

“Where were you on September eighth between the hours of two a.m. and four a.m.?” Kimberley asked. The blueness in her eyes intensified as she stared at Henry.

Henry looked up. He started counting on his fingers. One of his eyes closed.

“That was two days ago,” Sam said, shaking his head. “Where were you two days ago between two and four in the morning?”

“Passed out, I’m sure. I work early.” Henry looked at Sam, then at Kimberley, then back at Sam.

“You’re sure?” Kimberley asked.

Henry gave a slight nod. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Was anyone with you? Can anyone verify your whereabouts?” Sam asked.

“I was alone.”

“Where?”

“At home.”

“You live alone?” Sam asked.

Henry nodded.

“No girlfriend. No one slept over?” Kimberley asked.

“No, I was home alone in bed.”

Kimberley looked at Sam. They made eye contact. She slightly shook her head.

“Okay.” Sam stood up from the picnic table, stepping over the bench.

“That’s it?” Henry asked.

“For now. Just… don’t leave town,” Kimberley said. She stood up and stepped over the bench, following Sam back to the vehicle. Another fucking dead end.

Inside the vehicle, Sam turned on the engine, still staring at Henry through the windshield. He stood up and watched Kimberley and Sam until he disappeared inside the bar.

Sam looked over at Kimberley. “What do you think?”

“I can’t tell if he’s dumb or guilty.”

Sam nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. Since he doesn’t have an alibi anyone can verify and the whole tour thing is odd, I’ll have one of the deputies tail him, see if anything comes up.”

“He was probably passed out drunk that night, but it doesn’t hurt to look into it. It’s not like we have anything else to go on currently.” Kimberley looked around; the lone stop-signed intersection in town didn’t even appear to warrant this need as the roads were empty.

The land gave shape to open fields of dirt and sand with random shoots of wheat grass and sorghum fighting a battle to hold root against a mild western wind pushing through. At the edge of the sky, the clouds were rolling up under themselves, the last vestige of sunlight painting the bottoms a pure white, while the tops loomed dark gray as the moon arose. Like a great tug-of-war trying to paint the ends in on each other. This bar seemed like an out-of-place sore on an otherwise untamed and untouched land. This land was unforgiving and prone to the extremes of the elements, the tracks of deer and rabbits and the nests of hawks, liable to be washed away in a violent storm any given day, just like Hannah’s murderer seemed to storm through and remove the traces of her life within an instant, gone the very next, no sign of their coming or going.

“Wanna grab a bite to eat?”

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