Faces Of Evil: Traceless Part 19

A large metal garage flanked this side of the excavation site. Dump trucks, backhoes, and other equipment were lined up next to the garage. The perfect place for her to hide.

She nosed up to one of the ma.s.sive trucks and shut off her engine. She powered the windows down and listened. The Jag was parked next to the office, windows up and the motor still running. She could see it clearly as she peered between the front end of one truck and the bed of another, but he'd have to be looking specifically for her to see her and then it wouldn't be easy to spot her position.

Antic.i.p.ation started to hum inside her at the idea that he would get out soon. Though she didn't trust handsome men, she liked looking at them occasionally. Liked thinking about how it was when he came during s.e.x.

She'd watched a few times. The sound of male grunting was curiously intriguing. Made her a little tingly. Keith grunted a lot when he had s.e.x. He liked using his tongue, too. A lot of licking went on.

Her nipples hardened as she let the images play out in her head. He would start with his lover's toes. Licking and sucking, while his fingers did things to her calves and the backs of her knees. His lips formed nicely as he kissed.

But not as nice as Clint Austin's.

He had the best lips of any man Misty had ever seen.

She wondered how long it had been since Clint had had s.e.x with a woman. She was sure he'd had plenty in prison, but none of it would have included a female, just lots of grunting and poking.

Clint Austin was strong. She'd wager it had taken at least four to hold him down.

She banished the image. She liked the kissing and licking much better. Hot, thick tongues and soft, full lips. Much, much better than the other.

Her thighs pressed together. Just thinking about it excited her. She placed a hand on her breast and squeezed. She had very nice b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She'd been told so many times. Justine had told her so. She would never lie to her. Misty wore her clothes loose to prevent men from staring at her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. They always stared if she wore form-fitting clothes.

She squeezed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, felt a jolt deep inside her. Using both hands, she ma.s.saged, kneaded, enjoyed the feel of what she'd been blessed with. And why not? Better for her to enjoy them than some man.

Tighter, she squeezed, until her breath caught. Her bottom came up off the seat. She was really hot now.

The Jag hadn't moved. The motor still running.

She pushed one hand inside her shorts and touched her c.l.i.toris. "Mmmm." That felt nice. She knew how to touch a c.l.i.toris properly. With whisper-soft, feathery touches. Men were too stupid to know that. They jabbed it and pressed too hard. This, she made slow, gentle circles, was the right way.

Her legs stiffened... her hips started to rock ever so slightly in the seat. The need to close her eyes was almost overpowering. Couldn't do it. Had to watch him, make sure he didn't go anywhere. She came. Wave after wave of sweetness. She relaxed into the seat, licked her fingers, and sighed blissfully. Wonderful. And she hadn't needed a man at all.

The sound of wheels crus.h.i.+ng gravel had her sitting up straighter. She frowned when Troy Baker's truck pulled up alongside the Jag. What was this? She didn't want to see Troy Baker. He was an idiot. She'd found the childish mess he'd made at Clint Austin's.

Anger blazed through her. Keith was supposed to be meeting a woman. Misty knew he was cheating. She needed to see it with her own eyes.

It was the only way to prove she was right.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX.

10:20 a.m.

Troy was already s.h.i.+t-kicking mad when he finally got to the meeting place. He was pretty d.a.m.ned drunk, too. But not so much so that he didn't have sense enough to make sure they didn't meet out in the open in broad daylight.

Clint Austin had gone too far.

And Emily Wallace was right on his f.u.c.king heels.

What the h.e.l.l was she thinking, taking up for the sonof-ab.i.t.c.h? Insinuating that he was innocent? She should've let him burn up in that d.a.m.n house! Just showed how much she really cared about Heather's memory.

The b.i.t.c.h. Troy had no use for her anymore. None.

Keith climbed out of his Jag and glanced around. "What couldn't keep until after church?" He slammed the door and walked toward Troy. "This is the first time I've ever missed church with my boys. All I can say is, it better be good. I'm in enough trouble with Violet now."

Troy resisted the impulse to say, f.u.c.k Violet. He had and Keith got the short end of the d.a.m.ned stick. Course that was before she got her wish and married Keith. And, h.e.l.l, Troy'd been drunk anyway. He'd gone pretty crazy after Heather's murder. It had taken him years to get his s.h.i.+t back together He'd been all right until that low-down parole board had gone and let that b.a.s.t.a.r.d Austin go free.

"What'd you tell her?" Troy knew for a fact Keith'd had to make up one humdinger of an excuse to get out of going to church with Violet. She had an obsession about appearances.

Keith leaned against Troy's truck. "That I puked half the night and was hungover."

Troy kicked a good-sized piece of gravel across the layer of smaller pieces that lined the ground everywhere you looked. The gravel skidded a couple of times before going over the edge into the excavation site. "You do pretty much look like s.h.i.+t," he said with a laugh. Violet would have a hissy if she knew Keith had left the house without shaving.

"Feel like it, too."

Keith pushed away from the truck and wandered toward the big-a.s.s hole in the ground that provided limestone grave for a tricounty area.

"It's time to end this, buddy," Troy said grimly.

Keith pivoted to face him, eyes slitted suspiciously "What're you talking about?"

"Austin is just gonna keep messing with folks' heads and hanging around until people begin to think he's telling the truth, that maybe he didn't kill Heather. h.e.l.l, the newspapers are already hinting at that s.h.i.+t." Troy shook his head. "I can't let that happen. You heard what Violet said, the b.a.s.t.a.r.d's asking to see the files on the investigation? Why the h.e.l.l do you suppose he would do that?"

"How should I know?" Keith flung his arms in the air, his frustration over the top. "I'm telling you, Troy, we need to let this thing go. Burning down his house... h.e.l.l, man that's a felony... could've been a murder charge. Some body's taking some big-a.s.s risks."

Troy scoffed. "Just not big enough or he'd be dead."

Keith got that suspicious look in his eyes again. "You said you had nothing to do with that."

"I didn't." Troy held up his hands and waved them to show they were clean. "Back off, man. He's the enemy, not me."

"Well, if not you, then who?"

"Who the f.u.c.k knows?" Troy was the one getting suspicious now. "You ain't getting like Emily Wallace, are you?"

"Emily's a good person, Troy," Keith countered, evading the question. "You know that. You and Larry were too hard on her last night."

"She's a traitor." Troy needed a beer. He wished he'd brought along more than the two six-packs he'd already consumed.

"I gotta ask you something, Troy?"

Troy swiveled his head to stare at the man who was supposed to be his best friend. "What?"

"You been binging on alcohol lately? Like before?"

"This meeting is not about me," Troy snapped. He didn't need n.o.body telling him how much he should drink. He got enough of that s.h.i.+t at home. Patricia was threatening divorce. Divorce! His whole life was falling apart and it was Austin's fault. "This is about making things right once and for all."

Keith shook his head. "I can't do this anymore, Troy. This thing with Austin is ruining all our lives. Don't you see that, man?"

"At least we have one to ruin," Troy snarled. "Heather's was taken away from her."

Keith stared at the ground a moment, his hands hanging uselessly at his sides. "I can't do it, Troy." He lifted his gaze. "I'm finished trying to make Austin pay. The law is satisfied with the time he served. We'll just have to get right with the way it is."

"Oh, I see the problem." Troy moved his head from side to side in disappointment. He stopped abruptly when the world started spinning. He blinked a couple of times, regained his balance.

"You okay, man?" Keith reached for him.

Troy s.n.a.t.c.hed his arm away. "I know what your problem is. I thought about it all night. What Austin said got to you. That bulls.h.i.+t about asking my friends' alibis in front of all those people threw you for a loop, didn't it?"

Keith looked mad and maybe a little afraid. The anger Troy could understand... but the fear, what the h.e.l.l did Keith have to be afraid of?

"What Austin says or thinks means nothing to me. This is about having some peace. We can't keep going like this, Troy. We have families to think of."

Troy pounded his chest. "Heather was my family."

Keith took a big breath, let it out. "You're right. And I'm sorrier than you'll ever know. But I'm out, got it?"

Maybe it was the way the alcohol suddenly kicked in or the lack of sleep, but this just didn't feel right. "Are you saying you're not gonna help me finish this? After what he did?" Troy blinked some more, tried to keep Keith in focus.

Keith met Troy's gaze and that crazy fear was still there or, h.e.l.l, maybe he was imagining it.

"That's what I'm saying."

Troy's anger detonated. "What're you hiding, Keith?" He stepped closer to the man who'd been his best friend, his closest confidant, since Heather's murder. He'd been right there, helped Troy through his trouble with women and drinking. He'd gotten Troy the job at the plant his daddy owned. He'd been the best friend a man could want. But something wasn't right and it wasn't the alcohol. "What'd you do that you're not telling me?"

Keith sidestepped to go around him. "I'm going home now. I can't talk to you when you get like this."

"h.e.l.l no." Troy grabbed him by the arm and pulled him around. "You'll tell me what you're hiding. That's what you'll do."

"What are you talking about, man? You're drunk."

"I'm talking about," Troy moved in nose-to-nose, "what I see in your eyes. The fear. You're afraid. I want to know why.

Don't even think about playing the Violet card. That s.h.i.+t won't fly."

Keith closed his eyes for a moment and dragged in another of those labored breaths. What the h.e.l.l was wrong with him? Troy didn't get this. His stomach heaved. Maybe he was f.u.c.king hallucinating.

"It's my alibi___"

"Your daddy said you were home in bed," Troy recalled. "What about it?"

"That wasn't exactly right."

It was Troy's turn to feel the fear. He stamped it out.

"I was with another woman."

Troy felt his gut roll and then clench. "You were cheating on Heather?"

Keith gave a reluctant nod.

"You sonofab.i.t.c.h." Troy took a swing at him.

Keith ducked just in time, or maybe Troy's reflexes were off. He wanted to kill Keith; that's what he wanted to do.

"You were out with another f.u.c.king girl when my sister was being murdered?"

"Yes."

"G.o.dd.a.m.n it all to h.e.l.l." Troy walked in a circle, couldn't wrap his mind around this... this was crazy. It had to be a mistake. He suddenly felt far too sober. "She loved you, you sick b.a.s.t.a.r.d!"

"Don't you see," Keith urged, "I can't keep doing this to Austin when I... I did what I did."

Troy looked at him, tried hard to figure his c.o.c.keyed reasoning. "You're dead right what you did was wrong, but your s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g around didn't kill my sister."

The silence that thickened between them... the look in Keith's eyes told Troy there was more.

"What's the rest of it?" The voice didn't even sound like it came from him. Hollow... afraid... afraid of what he was about to hear.

Keith wouldn't look Troy in the eye anymore. "I had to much to drink. I pa.s.sed out."

Troy didn't move, prayed that if there was a G.o.d in heaven he wouldn't let whatever Keith was about to say be as bad as it felt like it was going to be.

"The other woman... she said she woke up that night and I wasn't in the bed. Then, the next morning I was. I... "He looked at Troy then. "I had blood on my clothes... on my hands. We didn't know where it came from."

Red flashed in front of Troy's eyes. He didn't remember moving, but suddenly he had Keith pinned to the ground Images of his sister's slashed face and throat... the cuts on her arms where she'd fought her attacker floated before his eyes.

"Are you telling me you killed my sister?" Troy growled his teeth clenched, his fingers digging into Keith's throat.

Keith gagged, made a choking sound. Troy let up on his grip. He could feel Keith's heart pounding in his chest. He could smell the blood rus.h.i.+ng through his veins. He didn't ever remember feeling this kind of rage before.

"Answer me!" he screamed, his voice echoed in the empty quarry.

"I... I don't know."

The b.a.s.t.a.r.d was crying. Troy wanted to kill him. "d.a.m.n you." Troy got up and walked off. He wrestled with the rage that had possessed him like a demon. The air sawed in and out of his lungs. This couldn't be happening.

Keith pushed to his feet, came up next to Troy, his head hung in defeat or humiliation. "I don't know what happened. I can't believe I would have hurt her... but I just don't know."

Troy turned his head, met Keith's gaze with fire starting to burn in his belly all over again. "Who was she? I want to talk to her. I want to know what time she woke up. Exactly what she saw or heard."

Keith looked away. "I can't tell you. If I tell youa""

Troy grabbed him by the s.h.i.+rtfront and shook the h.e.l.l out of him. "Tell me who you were with that night or I swear to G.o.d I'll kill you, man."