Page 65 of The Perfect Hosts

“Nice place,” Jamie says, looking appreciatively at the quiet green street in front of him. “I remember your wife made me homemade soup and brought it to the motel when I got out of the hospital. I couldn’t eat much with my jaw wired shut. It was good. Is she home?”

“No, she’s running some errands, meeting a friend for dinner. I know she’d love to see you, though. Maybe you can stop by again later,” Colson says.

“Maybe,” Jamie says noncommittally.

“So where would you like to start, J. J.?” Colson asks, picking at the label on his beer bottle. “With the Drake case or with Juneau?” This is when Jamie notices it. The thick binder sitting on the glass-topped side table between them. Jamie has seen hundreds of these binders. Has himself filled many of them with police reports, autopsy reports, witness statements, and photos. Juneau’s binder.

“It’s bigger than I thought it would be,” Jamie says.

“We worked hard,” Colson says. “I told you we would.”

A knot forms in Jamie’s throat. “Yeah, but my sister is still gone.”

“That she is. But not for lack of effort,” Colson says. “And I haven’t stopped looking.”

Jamie meets his gaze. “But the case file is here, not back at the station. We both know what that means.”

“It’s cold. But I haven’t given up,” Colson says.

Jamie wants to believe him, but the fact that Juneau’s binder is at Colson’s house and not on the sheriff’s desk or even the desk of one of the deputies means that they aren’t actually looking into Juneau’s disappearance. Any work on the case is being done by Colson on his own time.

“Let’s talk about the Drake case,” Jamie says abruptly. “Tell me more about Wes. What’s his story?”

“You’re not going to tell me about your visit with him?” Colson asks.

“I’d like your take on things first,” Jamie says. “Then I’ll fill you in.”

Colson releases a breath. “Where to start,” he laughs. “His dad was one of the wealthiest landowners in the county, and when he died, he passed the fortune on to his two sons.”

“Wes and Dix,” Jamie adds.

“That’s right. They own the land together. Rent a good deal of it out to smaller ranchers, run the equestrian center with Madeline, buy and sell horses.”

“Wes is well thought of around here?” Jamie asks and almost misses the shadow that dims Colson’s eyes for a moment. But it was there, however briefly.

“Wes and Dix do a lot of good for the community,” Colson says. “They’re very generous.”

“But...” Jamie prompts.

“But just that,” Colson says and takes a drink from hisbottle. “The Drakes give to a lot of important causes. They make a point to keep their money local, and most people appreciate that.”

“But some people don’t?” Jamie asks. He finds himself growing impatient with the sheriff and his caginess. Why is he being so evasive?

“When people have as much money as the Drakes, they want favors and are willing to offer some in exchange. Sometimes lines are crossed.”

There it is, Jamie thinks. Not that what Colson is saying is some profound revelation.

“Did you know that Wes might have been having an affair with Johanna?”

“I did not,” Colson says, rubbing a hand over his face. “But I’m not surprised. Wes has always had a wandering eye. Even as a teen.”

Jamie hands Colson his phone. “These texts were found on Johanna Monaghan’s cell. They’re from Wes.” Jamie watches as Colson reads through the messages.

“Well, this doesn’t look good,” the sheriff says, handing the phone back. “But it doesn’t mean he murdered her.”

“I also think he’s having a relationship with Mellie Bauer.”

“That young waitress?” Colson asks. “The one staying with the Drakes right now?”