Page 69 of Inside Silence

“Okay. And, if you don’t mind a suggestion, why not make one of those extra deputies you’re trying to get money for a detective’s position. Someone with investigative experience, so it won’t always fall on you to head investigations. You already have an important job running this department.”

I’m trying not to hear the criticism in that suggestion, but I do. It’s a gentle reminder where my focus should be.

Be that as it may, in our current situation, I don’t have much of an option, which is why I get to my feet and fit my ball cap on my head. Then I snatch my jacket with the Sheriff’s Office blazoned across the back, and head for the door.

“I hear you, but for right now I have to get out to Quarry Road. I’m already late for my meeting with Wanda.”

Wanda is not the one opening the door at her place, it’s Dozer. There is no mistaking the reason he is here when he leads me into the living room and takes a seat beside the new widow and drapes his arm around her shoulders, tugging her close. He does it with purpose and intent, clearly keen to bring the suspected affair out in the open right off the bat.

As much as I can appreciate the blunt honesty of the gesture, I’m afraid neither Dozer nor Wanda are doing themselves any favors. Not with Ben lying on a cold slab in the county morgue, his face unrecognizable from the lethal beating he took.

“Wanda…Dozer…I don’t need to tell you, your timing is not good.”

“We beg to differ,” Wanda speaks up. “There were already a few tongues wagging, and we figure trying to hide would do more damage than good.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. She’s not wrong, but now the whole town is going to wonder whether the two of them didn’t collectively decide to get rid of Ben. I’m sure some of them were wondering as much already.

The kicker is, I don’t think many would blame them, at least not Wanda. His abuse of her was well documented and he wasn’t a particularly loved resident of Silence. He would get drunk, belligerent, and got into altercations with people all the time.

The truth is, there likely are plenty of people who might have wished Ben dead at one time or another. However, there is only one person who followed through on it.

It’s up to me to find out who.

Nate

* * *

“We missed you last night.”

I turn around to find Tim, Roy Battaglia’s dart buddy, standing next to an SUV in the next driveway over from Savvy’s place.

“Hey,” I greet him, cocking my thumb at the well-tended bungalow next door in contrast to Savvy’s somewhat rundown place. “Didn’t realize you lived here.”

“My mom does. I’m just checking in on her. She hasn’t been feeling well.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“She’s that age, you know, where the body starts giving out. We’ve been talking about maybe moving her to Snowcrest Manor. She already has friends living there, but she hates giving up this house.”

I catch him studying the place.

“It’s tough,” I commiserate, even though I know nothing about the kind of situation he finds himself in.

My mother died relatively young—not much older than I am now—and I have no clue who my father is or whether he’s alive or not.

“Anyway, I thought for sure you’d be back so we could kick your ass in darts this time,” Tim pivots the subject back to Monday night.

“Maybe next week.”

“Sounds good.”

He looks like he’s ready to get into the vehicle when he turns back.

“Hey, what are you doing over there at the sheriff’s place anyway?”

“I’m…um…a contractor. She’s asked me to look at some work she wants done to the house.”

He nods and checks out the bungalow behind me. “Sure could use it.” He reaches for the handle and opens the door. “Anyway, I’d best get going. I’ll see you around, yeah?”