The City PI and the Country Cop (5 page)

None of the kids in Slater’s cold cases had
put up a fight when they were taken, according to the files. In
Teague’s estimation that sort of belied the idea that the breaking
of Grimes’ fingers happened while he was defending himself.

Questions, questions. Now to remember them
so I can ask Hoyt this evening.
Being a practical man, and an
investigator, he took out his phone and entered the questions in
its notepad app. By then he was back at his car, so he returned to
the motel. He still had some time to kill before meeting Hoyt and
reached for the serial killer file again. Then he shook his head.
I need to get my mind off this for a while before it becomes an
obsession. Not,
he admitted to himself,
that it isn’t
already. But maybe…
He turned on the TV, scrolled through the
channels, and settled for watching the opening game of the football
season for his home team. “This should do it,” he grumbled when he
saw they were down by fourteen points already and it was only the
beginning of the second quarter.

* * * *

When he parked and got out of his car, Teague
saw Hoyt standing by the front door to the restaurant. For a moment
he studied the detective. He had an air of command about him, with
his height—he was close to Teague’s six-one or a bit better—his
short, dark hair, and the serious expression that said he wasn’t
about to take anything from anyone. Then Hoyt smiled when he saw
Teague and Teague realized he was also handsome in a rough hewn
way, with high cheekbones and a square jaw that accented his full
lips, now that they weren’t in their usual tight, almost angry
line.

“You made it on time,” Hoyt said when Teague
came to join him.

“I’m sort of a nut about punctuality,” Teague
replied. “Most of the time anyway.”

Hoyt opened the door and stood aside to let
Teague enter first. A hostess came over, greeting Hoyt with a quick
hug before asking, “Just the two of you?” When Hoyt replied in the
affirmative, telling her they’d like to be on the patio, she said
it would be a few minutes before a table was ready and suggested
they wait at the bar.

There were two vacant stools at the end,
which the men took, both of them ordering beer when the bartender
arrived.

“Girlfriend,” Teague asked, nodding toward
the hostess. He wasn’t certain that he cared one way or the other
but at least it was a way to get a conversation going.

“Nope. I’m just a regular customer here and
Kelly’s the friendly type. To wit…” Hoyt thumbed toward the
entryway and Teague saw her giving a man who had just entered with
his female companion an enthusiastic hug before leading the couple
to a table for four.

“I guess she is,” Teague agreed, taking a
pull on the beer that had just been set down in front of him.

“Life in a small town, or medium-sized one,
since we’ve got a population of about ten thousand,” Hoyt
commented. “Everyone knows everyone else. At least those who are
year around residents.”

“Ten thousand is small compared to where I
come from,” Teague replied. “I think we come in at close to five
hundred thou.”

Hoyt shook his head. “Way to big for me.”

“Have you always lived here?”

“Except when I went away to college. That
was…damn…over twenty years ago. Got my degree in criminal justice
and came straight back here. Joined the force and the rest is
history. What about you?”

Teague didn’t get to answer that immediately
as the hostess came over to tell them their table was ready. Taking
their drinks with them, they followed her to the patio and were
soon seated with menus in front of them.

“So? You were going to answer my question?”
Hoyt said.

Realizing what he meant, Teague replied, “I
grew up in a small town, but you knew that from what I’ve told you
about Chris and me. A year after he disappeared I began attending
college. Like you, I got my degree in criminal justice, but I
decided to go into private investigation. I joined a firm, then ten
years later moved to where I am now and opened my own agency.” He
smiled. “And I’m doing pretty well with it, too, if I do say so
myself.”

Hoyt nodded. “You know your license isn’t
good here, or it won’t be in another nine months. Colorado will
soon be requiring all state PIs to be licensed.”

“What about reciprocity? Not that I’m
planning on still being here this time next year.”

“At the moment I have no idea. Not that it
bothers me one way or the other when it comes to you. I might have
a reputation for being real hardnosed, but there are times when I
see the advantage to easing up a bit.”

Teague grinned. “Yeah, Slater warned me about
that. He was surprised when I called him earlier to tell him you’d
actually let loose with information on the Grimes case.”

“I bet. I gave him a hard time when he talked
to me about it.”

“Which reminds me, I have some new questions,
but not until after we’ve eaten.”

“Okay with me. I’d rather relax a bit before
we get back to that.”

* * * *

They ordered dinner, herb-seared chicken
breast for Teague and grilled fillet mignon for Hoyt. As they ate,
Hoyt surreptitiously studied Teague. The man had a commonsense
demeanor despite his obsession about catching the serial killer. He
was also not bad looking, in Hoyt’s opinion. Blond hair, perhaps a
bit too long, a trace of a beard and mustache as if he hadn’t
shaved recently, and a nice smile—
like he means it when he
does
.
And why am I looking at him like he’s more than just a
man on the hunt for a killer? If…when we find the bastard, Teague
will head right back to where he came from without a backwards
glance.
Hoyt chuckled softly.
Am I that hard up that I’m
allowing my thoughts to even go in that direction? Yeah, maybe.
Still, he must think I’m straight since he asked me about Kelly.
Best that I don’t let him know otherwise.

“Telling yourself jokes?” Teague asked,
glancing at Hoyt with a grin.

“Maybe?”

“Hardly a definitive reply.” Teague took
another bite of chicken. “This has to be one of the best meals I’ve
eaten in a long time.”

“You aren’t a very good cook? Or have you
been on the road for too long?”

“Both. I mean I haven’t poisoned myself with
my cooking, but then it’s hard to with meat and potatoes—and maybe
a salad if I’m feeling really creative.”

“I’m lucky. I have a mom who loved to cook
and she made certain I learned how.”

“You and all your siblings?”

“Nope, just me. I’m an only.”

“Likewise. When I was a kid I wanted brothers
and sisters but it never happened.”

Hoyt grinned. “I was quite happy being an
only child.”

“Ah ha. Pampered and spoiled?”

Hoyt shrugged. “Not really, though there were
moments of course. More that I learned to stand on my own two feet
and accept responsibility for my actions since there was no one
else to blame them on.”

“There is that,” Teague agreed. “And if
you’re lucky, and I was, your parents accept you for who you are,
no matter what. They get that you’re an individual and don’t try to
compare you to siblings because there aren’t any. ‘Why can’t you be
more like Johnny?’ isn’t an option.”

“True enough. You’re implying they accepted
that you’re gay.”

“Yep. They figured it wasn’t something I had
any control over so why make an issue of it.”

Hoyt frowned, quickly wiping it away—he hoped
before Teague saw it.
Unlike my father. But since I was in
college before he found out, all he did was try to convince me that
I should try girls before I made up my mind. Yeah, Dad. Right.
“You
were
lucky,” Hoyt said aloud. “I know there are kids
who run to get away from parents who won’t accept them.”

“Like our murder victims, I suspect.”

Hoyt chuckled. “And now we get to why we’re
here.”

“It was inevitable,” Teague agreed, pushing
aside his empty plate. Their waitress appeared seconds later to
take it and Hoyt’s as well, asking if they wanted another beer.

“Coffee for me, please,” Hoyt told her.
Teague said the same and she left, coming back a moment later with
cups that she filled from a carafe, leaving it on the table for
them.

“All right, as I said, I have questions.”
Teague sipped his coffee before continuing. “First, Grimes’
fingers. Did the coroner find any flesh under the nails, as if he’d
tried to defend himself and they were broken when he did?”

“Nope. No trace evidence like that. Hell, no
trace evidence at all worth worrying about. Our killer knew what he
was doing. All he left behind was Grimes’ naked dead body and the
rope he used to hang him. The area where it happened is a popular
spot for guys—and girls if it’s a mixed couple—to get it on.”

“What about his clothes?”

“The only thing we found was Grimes’ wallet.
I guess the killer wanted us to know who the vic was.”

Teague nodded. “The same for two of the three
Grande County victims, according to the files I’ve read. For all
the police know, he might have left Chris’s as well and some animal
got ahold of it and carried it off.”

“So that pattern is holding true,” Hoyt said.
“What else did you want to know?”

“Have you found anyone who saw Grimes
hustling?”

“We showed his picture around. One guy who
works at The Red Calf thought he recognized him as a kid loitering
outside the place.”

“That’s the lounge that was listed on a
website I was looking at.”

Hoyt chuckled. “Lounge it a bit fancy as a
description, though the owners would like people to think it is.
It’s more of a local hangout that doesn’t discriminate against
gays, so they go there rather than some of the other bars in
town.”

“No one else recognized Grimes?”

“Not that they’re admitting to.”

Teague tapped a finger on the rim of his cup,
realized it was almost empty, and filled it from the carafe. “At
least it’s a starting place. So is the park. Maybe…” He looked
pensive.

“What are you thinking?”

“Just trying to come up with a plan to find
the killer. I could hang out at the park, keeping an eye open for
any transient kids looking to make some fast money. Or I could do
the same at the lounge.”

“And what would that accomplish,” Hoyt asked,
although he was certain he knew how Teague would answer.

“Depends how I play it. I could just watch
and hope I’m in the right place at the right time to intercept the
killer when he goes after another kid. And he will. I have no doubt
about that.”

Hoyt nodded. “I agree, if he’s still in the
area. What other…scheme—” Hoyt smiled slightly, “—do you have in
mind if that doesn’t work? After all, it
is
a long
shot.”

“This is off the wall I know, and I’m not
certain how I’d manage it, but I could act as if I was trying to
move in on the killer’s territory. Become a copycat.”

“That would be hard to do. First off you’d
need a victim.”

“I know that.” Teague stared off into space
for a long moment. “I might have just the person for that role. A
young man who works for me. He’s one of those people who looks
young for his age, much to his disgust.” He chuckled. “He bitches
about getting carded when he goes to a club.”

“So you bring him in. Then what?”

“I kill him,” Teague replied without blinking
an eye.

“You’re plum crazy,” Hoyt spat out before
realizing Teague was pulling his leg.

“Plum crazy?” Teague laughed. “Are you a fan
of Westerns?”

“Not even. It’s something my old man used to
say and I guess I picked it up.” Hoyt frowned—the result, as
always, of thinking about his father.

“It’s not
that
bad. You could have
asked if I was loco, or crazy as a loon, or—”

Hoyt snorted, holding up his hand to stop
Teague before he came up with more descriptions. “I get it. You
were teasing about killing your guy.”

“Yep.” Teague cocked his head, looking at
Hoyt. “That’s not what got you upset though. I mean once you
figured it out. It had to do with your father. You always frown
when you think about him.”

“What?”

“Now, and just a few minutes ago. Okay,
that’s a guess I’ll admit, and you tried to hide it, but from the
brief look on your face when I was talking about my family
accepting me for what I am, I got the impression that your family
doesn’t accept it, do they?”

Hoyt sighed. “Dad didn’t. He might have
kicked me out, but that wasn’t an option because I’d already left
home for college. You’d think after all these years it wouldn’t
bother me, but it does.”

“No one wants the people they love to think
badly of them,” Teague said quietly. “Does he still live here in
Faircrest?”

“No. He died just over a year ago. A massive
heart attack. Mom moved in with her sister in New Jersey about a
month later. She said she couldn’t take being here with all the
memories.” Hoyt shook his head disconsolately. “He never forgave
me.”

“For God’s sake, what’s to forgive? I swear I
don’t understand people sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” Hoyt managed to smile. “How
about ninety percent of the time. Anyway, back to what’s important
right now, catching a killer. If he is still in town he might go
after your employee. That is
if
the kid can pull it off that
he’s transient and a hustler.”

“He can, and that, my friend, might be just
what we want. In point of fact, it would be better than what I was
thinking of doing. I’ll call Keir and get him out here ASAP.”

* * * *

Keir Upton arrived early
Monday afternoon, flying into the county airport and then renting a
car to drive to Faircrest. As planned, he slipped unobtrusively
into the motel and up to Teague’s room.