Tough Customer

CHAPTER 10

SKI WAS ALMOST UPON THE MAN WHEN HE SPUN AROUND, PISTOL in hand, aimed straight at Ski's head. "Whoa!"

"Son of a bitch!" Dodge dropped his gun hand and gave the deputy a baleful look. "I almost shot you."

"That would have been bad for both of us."

"Worse for you." Dodge returned his revolver to its holster at the small of his back.

Ski asked, "Do you have a concealed handgun license?"

"In Georgia."

"This is Texas."

Dodge shrugged. "Doesn't GA have reciprocity with the Lone Star State?"

"Didn't you bother to check?"

"No. Does it?"

"Yes."

"Then what's the problem?"

Ski brushed past a sapling and closed the distance between himself and the tree stump where Dodge had been sitting when he came up behind him. The woods were noisy with the soprano choir of insects and the bass tones of bullfrogs on the lakeshore, which had helped cover the sound of his approach through the woods.

The night was hot, there was no breeze. The surrounding trees were stolid and still. Light spilling from the windows of Caroline King's house provided an ambient glow. The two men could see each other but little else.

Dodge returned to his seat on the stump and lit a cigarette. As he fanned out his match, he eyed Ski up and down. "You an Indian, or what? One of those Coushatta from around here?"

"Do I look like an Indian?"

"I didn't hear you till you were only a few yards away from me. Barely had time to get my pistol."

Ski crouched down at the base of a pine, sitting on the heels of his boots and putting his back to the rough bark. "Army. Special Forces. Covert missions."

"You're good."

"If I was good, I'd have slit your throat before you knew I was here."

"Did you think I might be Starks returning to the scene of the crime?"

Ski shook his head. "I smelled your tobacco smoke. He isn't a smoker."

The older man considered him for a moment. "How come you left the Army?"

"I got wounded."

"Iraq?"

"Afghanistan. Before it became the place to be," he said drily. "I got shot. Spent months recovering. By the time I was released from the hospital, my stint was almost over. I didn't re-up."

Dodge kept smoking, saying nothing. For reasons Ski couldn't explain, he would like to win this man's approval. Short of that, he'd like to alleviate the contempt with which Dodge Hanley seemed to regard him.

"I already had my degree, but I went back to UT, took courses in criminology, then brought my advanced degree back here to my hometown."

"Why this pissant burg? Why not a metropolitan department?"

"I like to ski."

Dodge's expression went blank. "I don't follow."

"Waterski. Boat. Fish. Hike. Big cities don't allow for much of that."

Dodge harrumphed. "Or, could be you're lazy and lack ambition."

"That's been said." He stated it frankly, without apology or contradiction.

Dodge kept his eyes on the deputy as he ground out his cigarette against the stump. "You like to ski. Is that how you got your nickname?"

Ski picked a chunk of pine bark off the ground and bounced it in his palm. "One summer night--I think between ninth and tenth grades--me and some buddies got a few bottles of rotgut whiskey, sneaked out a motorboat belonging to one of the guys' dads. I took a dare. Broke my arm, a few ribs, and my collarbone. From then on I was called Ski."

"What was the dare?"

"To slalom a half mile barefoot and blindfolded."

Dodge gurgled a laugh. "Jesus."

"I might have been sober enough to pull it off, but the guy driving the boat was wasted. Pulled me right into the shallows and a grove of cypresses." He caught himself chuckling over the reckless stunt, then sobered and assumed his professional demeanor. "Now, if I catch somebody driving a boat while drinking, I haul him to jail. No leniency, no excuses."

Dodge lit another cigarette.

After a time, Ski said, "Who are you? And don't tell me a friend of the family, because you've got cop written all over you."

"Former cop. Currently, an investigator for a law firm in Atlanta."

"Okay."

"What?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Freelance work."

"You came to Ms. King's aid on real short notice."

"I'd done some work for one of her friends in Houston, years back. She recommended me."

"You just dropped everything and came flying down here?"

"I was told Caroline King has lots of money, and I need the extra income. I've got two greedy, bloodsucking ex-wives."

Ski wondered what he'd done to make Dodge Hanley think he was stupid enough to swallow that bullshit. He considered revealing what he'd learned after making some fact-finding calls today, but, for the time being, he decided to play along and pretend to be as ignorant as the stump Dodge was sitting on.

Ski said, "Besides smoking, what were you doing out here?"

Angling the smoke away from Ski, Dodge exhaled and pointed toward the lake. "I thought maybe Starks came by boat. But I nosed around the dock and shoreline and didn't see any evidence of that." He came back to Ski with an arch look. "Nothing as solid as those fresh tire tracks you found."

Ski smiled wryly. "Who'd you torture?"

"No waterboarding necessary. You hang out at a county courthouse long enough, you hear things. Never knew one of them that didn't leak like a rusty pipe."

Ski considered the older man for a long moment, then, making a decision, stood up and angled his head back toward the woods. "Want to take a walk?"

Dodge came to his feet. "Lead on."

"Put out the cigarette. I don't want you burning down our forest."

Dodge sucked in a lungful of smoke and muttered a string of grousing swearwords as he exhaled. He ground out the cigarette, then fell in behind as Ski plowed through the underbrush, pushing aside tree limbs and adroitly sidestepping natural obstacles, retracing the way he'd come but without worrying about how much noise he was making. "I left my flashlight up here a ways. Can you see okay?"

"Don't worry about me," Dodge grumbled.

Ski ducked under a tree branch and hoped Dodge saw it in time to do the same. He hadn't planned to share any aspects of the case but found himself inviting the former cop's input. "The three-way stop where Lake Road dead-ends? The bait shop?"

"Yeah?"

"I talked to a guy who was there about midnight last night, pumping gas." Pride prevented him from telling the veteran investigator that a civilian had actually tracked down the bass fisherman.

"Kinda late to be pumping gas."

"He was getting his boat ready to take out first thing this morning. Wanted to have that chore done so he could get on the lake by daylight."

"That's one of the reasons I never fished. It starts too early."

"So," Ski continued, "he's at the pump filling his gas can when this guy pulls a Toyota up to the side of the building. Time roughly coincides with Ms. Malone's 911 call."

"Did the vehicle come from this direction?"

"It did."

"The fisherman is sure it was a Toyota?"

"Positive. His daughter has one like it. He said the driver got out and stumbled into the men's room."

"Exterior entrance?"

"Right."

"Stumbled?"

"He demonstrated it to me. Looked like limping. When the gas can is full, the fisherman thinks maybe he ought to check on the guy. So he moseys over to the men's room, knocks on the door, and says to the guy inside that he couldn't help but notice that he was limping and asks if everything's all right, does he need some help. The guy hollers through the door--"

"He doesn't open it?"

"No. He tells the fisherman that he's fine. He just came in to 'take a piss.' Those words. The fisherman is a die-hard evangelical and wanted to hear no more of--I quote--'that kind of filthy language.'"

"He sounds like a barrel of laughs."

Ski stopped to retrieve his flashlight from the crotch of a tree where he'd left it. He clicked it on and turned to check on Dodge, who'd been keeping up, but barely. The older man was huffing. "Are you all right?"

"I've got on city shoes."

His shoes weren't to blame for his wheezing like a malfunctioning bagpipe. "You need to lose the cigarettes."

"Walk."

Ski directed the beam of light to the ground, which made the trekking much easier. "The fisherman went on his way and didn't think any more about it."

"Not even when he heard there'd been a shooting in the vicinity around that time of night?"

"He was out on the lake all day. Didn't learn about the incident until he got home this afternoon, and by then we were contacting him."

"Did he describe the guy?"

"He got a fairly good look because there's a light above the restroom door. Oren Starks's general height, weight, and age. Receding hairline. The guy was wearing khaki slacks and a dark golf shirt. Ms. Malone said Starks had on khaki slacks and a navy golf shirt."

"No one coached the fisherman? He hadn't heard that description on TV or from his wife when he got home from his fishing trip?"

"He says no, and I don't think this guy would lie."

Dodge hawked up a wad of phlegm and spat. "Fuck no. Not if he takes exception to the word piss."

Ski chuckled. "Plus, I showed him a faxed photo of Starks that I got from the marketing firm's employment records. Fisherman said he was ninety-five percent sure that was the guy."

"Not one hundred?"

"On account of it was dark and he was twenty or so yards away." Ski motioned forward. "It's just ahead."

The flashlight beam picked up the yellow tape that had been strung around a small area that appeared to be the cul-de-sac of an overgrown track. "My guess," Ski said, "is that when the house was being built, the construction crew pulled some of their vehicles off the road and parked them in here where it was shady, and to keep from cluttering up the area in front of the house.

"When the house was completed, the track and clearing became overgrown with disuse." He shone the light down on the tire tracks in the dirt. "Fresh. And they weren't made by heavy equipment. I discovered them just after daylight this morning, got a man out here pronto. He's no expert, mind you, but he made a pretty good cast."

"Lucky it didn't rain last night."

Ski nodded. "I'm rushing up the match, but I'm betting the tires will be standard-issue Toyota."

"Find anything besides the tracks?"

"Scuffed footprints." Ski shone the light onto the ground. "Unfortunately, nothing we could imprint."

"Candy wrapper, bottle cap, piece of cloth?"

"Nope. I've combed the area twice myself and had two other deputies do the same. Nothing. But, if you know what to look for, Starks left a clear trail to the house."

He showed Dodge a skinny branch that had recently been broken and was hanging limply from the trunk of the tree, also a patch of grass that had been trampled on. "Ms. Malone said he was no outdoorsman."

Dodge studied several broken limbs that Ski spotlighted. "He doesn't have your pathfinder skills, that's for sure."

The older man was thoughtfully gnawing the inside of his cheek, indicating to Ski there was more on his mind. He asked, "What are you thinking?"

"Why'd he stop at the bait shop and go to the men's room, risk being seen?"

"I hear ya. Sounds too careless for the controlled individual Ms. Malone described, doesn't it? But she also said that Starks was unhinged last night. He'd just shot somebody. He wasn't thinking straight. Or maybe he was being his orderly self and went into the restroom to assess the injury to his leg."

"In other words," Dodge said, "you don't have a clue."

Ski had the grace to smile. "I'm open to ideas."

"Who the hell knows why anybody does anything? I don't. The fact is, Starks made the stop. He was seen. What does that give you, Deputy?"

"Evidence that he was indeed here last night."

Dodge's eyes narrowed. "You doubted that?"

Ski gave a noncommittal shrug. "It confirms Ms. Malone's and Lofland's statements. It explains why neither heard the car either coming or going."

"Okay."

"Once we get a positive ID on these tire prints, we'll know the make and model of the car, and I can get an APB out on it. There's no Toyota registered to Oren Starks, but Ms. Malone said he would be too smart to drive his own car."

"But dumb enough to leave fresh tire tracks." Dodge had been musing out loud, but when Ski gave him the high sign to continue his thought, he said, "This guy's supposed to be a genius, right?"

Following his thought, Ski said, "Being smart doesn't necessarily make someone a good criminal."

"No, but it helps." Dodge motioned down at the incriminating tire tracks. "This is just plain stupid."

"Stupid like fleeing the scene of the crime and going directly to a place where he'd be exposed."

"Yeah, stupid like that," Dodge said. "I don't suppose the pious fisherman got the license plate number on the Toyota."

"We're not that lucky. He wasn't definite on the color, either. 'Dark,' that's all he could tell me."

"You're gonna piss off a lot of innocent Toyota drivers who'll be stopped."

"Can't be helped." Ski waited a beat, then asked, "Have you seen enough?"

"I may come back, take a look around. If it's okay."

"You're asking permission?"

"Not really."

"What I thought."

Ski followed the outlining tape to the other side of the clearing and then walked along the overgrown track till they reached the road. His SUV was parked partially in the ditch. He opened the driver's door and reached in for a bottle of water. He passed it to Dodge, who thanked him, uncapped it, and took a drink.

"Do you need a minute to catch your breath?" Ski asked.

Dodge recapped the water bottle and tossed it back into the SUV. "Any day of the week, son, I could still whip your butt."

"Not in a fair fight."

"I never fight fair. Fair gets you killed. Didn't the Army teach you anything?"

The two men sized each other up as they had the first time they'd laid eyes on each other in the hospital corridor. Finally Dodge seemed to reach a decision. He dug into his pants pocket, withdrew something, and, reaching for Ski's hand, slapped the object into his palm.

"Amanda Lofland's cell phone."

Ski looked at the phone in his hand, then back into the private investigator's implacable eyes.

"I found it," he said. "In the hospital cafeteria."

"They don't have a lost and found at the hospital?" Ski asked.

"I checked around. Didn't see one. I was in a hurry."

"So you had to turn on the phone in order to discover who it belonged to."

Dodge gave a half shrug, a very unapologetic half shrug.

Ski said, "I'll see that Mrs. Lofland gets it back."

"I'm sure she'll appreciate it."

They exchanged another long, assessing stare, then Ski motioned for Dodge to climb into the SUV. He went around the hood, and Ski heard him cursing as his city shoes sought purchase on the steep bank of the ditch.

As they drove past the car parked at the end of the lane leading to the house, Dodge remarked on it. "I noticed him there this afternoon. Security guard?"

"Reserve deputy. We've got a dozen men and women we can't afford to keep on the payroll, but we use them in emergencies. There's another one watching the dock."

"Bumped into him earlier," Dodge said. "He looked me over good."

Ski smiled, thinking I'll bet he did. He said, "I don't want to take any chances that Starks will come back and carry out his threat to kill Ms. Malone."

"I'm sure you don't. Her mama is a town big shot. If something happened to Caroline King's daughter, your boss would have your ass."

Ski gave him a hard look. "That's a lousy thing to say."

"Sue me." Then, "Okay, okay, that was a potshot." After a moment, he asked, "What about the municipal police? Are they of any help to you?"

"Five-man operation. Mostly they break up fights at the high school football games and organize the Fourth of July parade."

"I figured."

"We of the sheriff's office are the main peace officers. It's up to us--"

"Up to you."

Ski shrugged. "Up to me to find Starks."

"Well, he's not at the Cypress Lodge. I've already checked."

"Thanks," Ski said drily. "I'll mark it off my list." Then after a short pause, "I thought you might be bunking out here at Ms. King's house."

Dodge stayed stubbornly silent, ignoring Ski's bait and saying nothing as they approached the house. The headlights swept the front door just as Caroline came through it and stepped onto the porch. She looked relieved when she saw Dodge in the passenger seat.

As he alighted, she said, "I was beginning to think you'd fallen into the lake or that a gator had got you."

"You've got gators?"

She looked back and forth between Dodge and Ski, who came up the steps along with him. Obviously she was wondering where and how they had joined up. "What's going on?"

"I don't have Starks in custody yet," Ski said, "but there are a couple of things to report, and I've got a few more questions for Ms. Malone."

"She's inside."

Caroline led the two men into the entryway and motioned them toward the living area. "I'll get Berry." But before she was out of earshot, Ski's stomach rumbled noisily, bringing her up short.

"Sorry, ma'am."

She smiled at him. "No apology necessary."

Berry was just finishing the dinner cleanup when her mother came into the kitchen. "Have you already put the leftover spaghetti away?"

"Just now."

Caroline opened the refrigerator and took out the sealed container, handing it to Berry. "Would you please warm a plate of it for Deputy Nyland?"

"Sorry?"

Caroline took utensils from the flatware drawer. "He and Dodge just came in together."

Berry glanced through the kitchen window toward the back of the property, where the investigator had disappeared almost an hour ago, saying for her to be ready to discuss her relationship with Ben when he returned after having one cigarette. "How'd that happen?"

"I have no idea. But they're here, and Deputy Nyland admitted that he hasn't eaten all day. The least we can do is offer him some supper."

"The least we can do? Mother, he hates me."

"Don't be silly. And when you come, bring the tea pitcher, please."

Her mother left the kitchen, taking the flatware, a place mat, and a napkin with her.

Berry stared at the food container that had been thrust into her hand, and it felt as alien as all the other disruptive elements that had been thrust at her over the past twenty-four hours.

A violent act, something totally beyond her realm of experience.

A criminal investigation, which was foreign to her.

A deputy sheriff, who was blatantly skeptical of every word out of her mouth.

A private investigator, whose presence in her life was inexplicable.

She placed the food container in the microwave and set the timer. As she watched it count down, she puzzled over her mother's decision to retain the services of Dodge Hanley, a man who was rough around the edges, to say the least. He was the antithesis of Caroline's other acquaintances, who were generally prosperous businessmen, bankers, lawyers, doctors, cultured and refined men like Berry's dad had been.

Moreover, Caroline, who was ever a lady, seemed to take no exception to Dodge's off-color comments. That, to Berry, signaled a worry. There was only one explanation for Caroline's tolerance of his coarseness: she felt he was necessary to them. He was the kind of man you wanted at your back during a fight, which meant that her mother expected one.

Berry feared one, too. Oren wouldn't give up. That she knew. His obsession with her had caused her world to tilt. She had used the last two months to try to get it back on solid footing. But last night, it had been overturned and was now completely out of control.

Her control. She seemed incapable of reclaiming command.

But she must. And in order for that to happen, she recognized that things would get worse before they got better.

The microwave dinged. She dumped the spaghetti onto a plate, added two slices of garlic bread, then put the plate and the iced tea pitcher on a tray and carried it into the dining area, where the other three were gathered around the table. Her mother had laid a place setting in front of the deputy, who stood up when Berry approached the table.

"I hope I didn't put you to any trouble."

"No trouble." She served him the plate of food and set the tea pitcher on the table. He didn't sit down until she'd taken a chair.

Then he didn't touch anything until her mother said, "Don't let it get cold." He put the napkin in his lap, picked up the fork, and dug in.

He was such a presence. In the semicircular dining area, he seemed exceptionally large, and not only because of his physical size. He was overbearing in intrinsic ways, too. Berry was aware of every blink, every motion. He robbed her of air. But she seemed the only one to be affected.

While he ate, Dodge, with Ski's permission, told them about Oren's coming to the house on foot from a hidden parking space nearer the main road, and his apparent stop at the bait shop restroom.

"That makes me feel a little better about failing to get his license plate number," Berry said.

"You couldn't have if you'd wanted to," her mother said.

Dodge asked her if Oren had ever driven a Toyota.

"I don't know. I never paid attention to his car."

"You never went anywhere with him?" Ski asked.

She hesitated and looked across at Dodge. "Should we wait until morning, when Mr. Carlisle can join us?"

Before Dodge could answer, Ski said, "I'm only after information about Starks. You're not a suspect."

Dodge's eyes narrowed on him as he forked spaghetti into his mouth. "Okay, Deputy, go ahead. But watch it. Berry, if you're uncomfortable answering a question, don't."

Ski looked at Berry and let his raised eyebrows repeat the question because his mouth was full. She said, "I never rode anywhere with Oren."

He held her gaze for several seconds, then blotted his mouth with his napkin. "Thanks, that was delicious."

There wasn't a morsel left on the plate. He'd used the bread to sop up the extra sauce. Since the thank-you had been directed at her, Berry said, "You're welcome. But all I did was warm it up. Mother actually made it. I'm a terrible cook."

He smiled across at her mother. "I'm glad my stomach growled in front of you."

Warmly, she returned his smile.

Dodge shifted in his seat, touched the pocket of his shirt where he kept his cigarettes, then folded his arms across his chest, looking surly and put out over something.

Ski pushed his plate aside and rested his forearms on the edge of the table. He turned toward Berry. "I talked to several of the female co-workers whose names you gave me."

"They told you about Oren's inappropriate flirting?"

"More like inept flirting. Teasing that fell flat, awkwardness in social situations, that sort of thing. They described more of a nuisance than a creep."

"He's a creep," she said stubbornly. "Intelligent. Even genius. But as a human being, his ick factor is off the charts. He wasn't as persistent with the others as he was with me and Sally Buckland. Did you talk to her?"

"Yes."

"And?"

He divided a look between Dodge and Caroline before coming back to her. "Maybe we should wait on your lawyer after all."

On the surface, his statement seemed meant for her benefit. But it also had the undertones of a dare, from which Berry wouldn't back down. "Ask your questions."

"Berry."

"It's fine, Dodge."

"Not fine, it's damn foolish."

Ignoring him, she held Ski Nyland's stare. "Well?"

"Sally Buckland told me in no uncertain terms that Starks had nothing whatsoever to do with her resignation from Delray, and that to suggest such a thing was ridiculous. She also said that if you had called him a stalker you were lying."

Berry's breath slowly leaked from between her lips, which were parted in astonishment. "Why would Sally say that?" Then, her voice rising, she demanded, "Why would she say that?"

"Berry--"

"No, Mother," she said, cutting her off. "Something is terribly wrong here." She scraped back her chair, got up and rounded it, then leaned against it as she faced the other three.

"I'm telling you that Oren made Sally's work environment so miserable, she resigned. He redirected his attention to me. I have no idea why Sally is denying it now, but I'm telling you the truth."

"I believe you, Berry," her mother said. "In fact, no one here has disputed you. So please sit down and let's talk this out."

"Thank you, I prefer to stand. But I do want to talk this out." She shot a hard look at Ski, wishing that just once she could cause a disturbance in his steady gray gaze. "Well, what else?"

"Did you attend the office Christmas party with Starks?"

She dropped her head forward until her chin was resting on her chest. She sensed her mother's disbelief, Dodge's unspoken reproof, the deputy's condemnation. Then she brought her head up and shook back her hair in a small show of defiance.

"Yes, I agreed to be Oren's date to the Christmas party. I thought that if I went out with him once, he would stop pestering me. The party seemed a safer alternative than being alone with him for an entire evening. We would be surrounded by people we knew.

"I accepted his invitation on the condition that we meet there rather than his picking me up at home. I drove myself there and drove myself home. Alone. I told you the truth about being in Oren's car, Deputy Nyland. I never rode with him anywhere."

"What about the party?"

"Oren made certain that everyone knew we were paired for the evening. He didn't leave my side the entire night. He hovered. He treated me with familiarity, touching me constantly. The memory of it revolts me.

"I endured his manhandling, hoping that, once he could boast of having had a date with me, he would be satisfied and go away. But it didn't turn out that way."

She paused, stared into near space for a moment before focusing on the deputy again and continuing. "The last workday before the Christmas holiday, Oren received his dismissal notice. He turned to me for consolation, as though I was his lover, friend, champion." She paused again and gave them each in turn a look. "That's when the stalking began."

Wanting to lance all the boils at once, she looked at Dodge. "During your tete-a-tete with Amanda Lofland this afternoon, she spilled the beans about Ben and me."

Dodge nodded unhappily.

Facing the deputy, she said, "There was a time when Ben and I had more than a working relationship." Noting his lack of reaction, she added, "But you don't seem surprised to learn that."

He tipped his head slightly. "Ms. Lofland called me late this afternoon, said maybe I ought to know that you'd attended the company Christmas party with Oren Starks and that you and her husband had been lovers."

"He wasn't her husband then," Berry said with asperity. "And until today, I didn't know that Amanda was even aware of it. In any case, it's ancient history and has no bearing on anything, especially what happened here last night." She pried her tight grip from the back of the chair and began to pace.

"Ben and I were working late one night, went for drinks afterward, felt like blowing off some steam, and one thing led to another. Being co-workers, seeing each other every day in the office, added a bit of spice to what would otherwise have been a rather bland attraction.

"Soon even that naughty element wasn't enough to make it worthwhile. We didn't want a pretend romance to damage our solid working relationship, and we realized how silly it was to continue when neither of us was emotionally invested in the affair. So we agreed to return to what we'd been before, platonic friends and co-workers.

"It was a fling that lasted less than a month. He hadn't even met Amanda yet. When he did, I was one of the first people he told about this 'amazing woman.' I was pleased for him. And when they got engaged, I threw them a party. Mother, you remember."

"You rented out the party room at the country club."

Berry nodded and looked at Ski. "That's it. That's the big, bad secret. Until that ugly encounter in the hospital, Amanda has always been cordial toward me. Maybe today's meltdown happened because she's upset and worried about Ben's medical condition. Maybe her outburst was a delayed reaction to the trauma of hearing that he'd been shot."

She raised her hands helplessly at her sides. "I don't know when Ben told her about us, whether it was before or after they married, or this morning when he woke up in the recovery room and realized that he'd been shot while wearing only his undershorts in my house.

I don't know.

"What I do know is that my time with Ben was short-lived and forgettable. Nothing romantic has happened between us since it ended. Certainly nothing adulterous happened here yesterday."

Ski got up and rounded the table, coming to stand directly in front of her. "In the guest room, last night when I looked, the bed was still made."

"I can't account for that. Maybe Ben was sitting in the chair reading, maybe he was on the toilet, maybe he was ... I don't know what he was doing because I didn't see him after we went upstairs, said goodnight, and retired to our separate rooms."

"On your bed, the covers had been pulled back."

"Nyland, what are you getting at?" Dodge asked.

Neither she nor Ski responded. She didn't know why this was such a sticking point, but she wanted to eliminate it as an issue between her and the deputy. "I turned down the bed before I went into the bathroom to shower."

Dodge said, "What's the deal with the beds? In fact, what difference does it make if she and Lofland were screwing their brains out? The important thing is that this jerk-off Starks--"

"I know what the important thing is." Ski angrily cut him off but without shifting his gaze away from Berry's.

Dodge fired back. "Then why are you harping on the sleeping arrangements?"

"Her relationship with Lofland might relate to Starks's motive."

"She's told you what their relationship is," Dodge argued. "Now can we move on?"

But Ski didn't look like he was prepared to move on, or to go anywhere, until he was completely satisfied on this point.

"Ben and I had a meaningless affair years ago," she said. "

Nothing happened here yesterday or last night except what I've told you."

"Okay. Fine. Great. I'm glad that's cleared up," Dodge said. "Nyland, you happy now?"

Ski didn't flinch.

Berry took a deep breath. "In answer to your question of earlier today--"

"Berry."

"Dodge, sit down," Caroline said.

"She has rights. She doesn't have to say anything else."

"Maybe she wants to."

Berry heard them, but only with half an ear. Ski's focus was riveted on her, and she couldn't escape it. "In answer to your earlier question, I was fully clothed during dinner. I undressed only to get into the shower. It was that female EMT who suggested I might want to put something on. Before she called my attention to it, I hadn't realized that I was still naked."