Zander checked the far side of the home and then stood back on the gravel drive as the sheriff took the few steps to a small wooden porch along a long side of the home. “I don’t see another door,” Zander said quietly.
“Nope. They built an addition that eliminated the other exit.”
“That can’t be up to code.”
“It’s not.” Greer looked at Zander and shrugged. “They’re aware. Not much else I can do.”
The sheriff slid his flashlight out of his utility belt, stepped to the side of the door, and rapped it on the wood frame.
“Billy? Kyle? You home? It’s Sheriff Greer. I have some questions about the bar fight the other night.”
Zander watched the windows and spotted a flutter of curtains at the closest one. He’d unzipped his jacket but left his weapon holstered, same as the sheriff, hoping Greer was right about the best way to approach the brothers.
The door opened. A man in his forties wearing faded jeans stepped out. A red flannel shirt with its sleeves rolled up revealed parts of several tattoos. His hair was a little too long, but he was clean shaven. He swaggered, the air of a brawler hovering around him. He spotted Zander and gave a hard stare, staking his territory.
Amused, Zander kept his gaze relaxed and nonchalant.
“Your brother home, Kyle?” asked Greer.
“He’s workin’.”
“Where’s he working these days?”
“Auto parts store.”
“In Warrenton?”
“Yep. Been there three months.”
Zander pulled out his phone and sent a text to Ava, requesting one of the deputies at the Copeland scene go to the auto parts store to keep Billy Osburne in sight and to follow if Billy left the store. Ava responded with a thumbs-up.
“Good for him. How about yourself?”
“Still lookin’.” Defensiveness rose in his tone.
“Something will turn up,” the sheriff said. “You know the bar fight I’m talking about at Patrick’s the night before last, right?”
“Yep.” Kyle shoved his hands in his pockets. “Everyone walked away. No big deal.”
“It was Billy, right? You watched and then pulled him off?”
“That’s right. Wasn’t more than fifteen seconds. The dude was back to drinking his beer at the bar before we left.”
“That’s what Paul told us too.”
Kyle took in Zander again, looking him over from head to toe. “Who’s he?”
“He’s from Portland. Helping us with a case. How well do you know Sean Fitch?” Greer asked, pulling Kyle’s attention back.
“Don’t know him at all. Never talked to him, but I’ve seen him around. Not many black guys in town. He sticks out, you know?” Kyle grinned, apparently in the belief that he was amusing.
“What about Billy? How well does he know Sean?”
Kyle glanced over at Zander. “You’d have to ask Billy.”
“He knew him well enough to start a fight,” Greer said casually.
“Sean started it,” Kyle firmly stated.
Zander watched the man’s body language. Kyle was tightly strung, moving from having his hands in his pockets to crossing his arms across his chest and then back. Zander studied his knuckles and hands, searching for bruising or abrasions. He saw none. Kyle’s eye contact with the sheriff was pretty good, but he was frequently distracted by Zander and kept glancing his way.
None of his movements were unusual for a man being questioned by the police. Guilty or not.
Kyle hadn’t said a word about Sean’s death.
Does he know?
“Why did Sean take a swing at Billy?” asked the sheriff. “He pissed about something?”
Kyle rubbed his chin. “He and Billy have an ongoing thing. You’ll need to talk to Billy about that.” His gaze narrowed on the sheriff, and his tone hardened. “What’s Sean saying? That Billy started it? That’s a bunch of bull.”
Zander froze, scouring every subtle clue in Kyle’s tone, face, and body language.
If Kyle was lying, he was damned good.
The sheriff didn’t flinch. “I don’t know. We’ll talk to Billy next. What time’s he done with work?”
“He’s off at five.”
Just another hour or so.
“Why don’t you give me a heads-up on what this thing is between Billy and Sean.”
Kyle twisted his lips to one side, his focus on his feet as he considered. He finally looked up. “You didn’t hear it from me.”
Greer nodded.
Zander tensed, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet, wanting to move closer to catch the revelation. Kyle surreptitiously glanced left and right, his eyes gleaming, and he lowered his voice.
“Billy was fucking Sean’s wife, Lindsay.”
13
“Do you believe Kyle doesn’t know Sean was murdered that night?” Sheriff Greer’s face was troubled. He posed the question to Zander as they stood in the parking lot behind the sheriff’s department in Warrenton. They’d left the Osburne home without mentioning the deaths and were still stunned by Kyle’s revelation about Billy and Lindsay.
Zander vacillated, unsure which news was more important to their case—that Kyle didn’t know Sean and Lindsay were dead, or that Billy possibly had something going on with Lindsay.
“You’d think Kyle would have at least heard some gossip by now,” Zander answered. “But I have to say, I didn’t get the feeling Kyle was lying. He seemed sincere to me. But surely Billy has heard about the murders at work. I find it odd he hasn’t told Kyle.”
“The auto parts store is here in Warrenton, though. Could be the word hasn’t spread this far from Bartonville yet.”
“Two murders? It was even on the news last night.”
“Do you think those two brothers watch the news?”
He had a point.
“If Kyle isn’t working, he could be out of the loop too,” Greer said.
“I struggle to believe that in a community this small, some people haven’t heard.”
The sheriff spread his hands, indicating the empty surrounding hills. “A lotta space between some of the homes. You’d be surprised how many people around there don’t talk to another human for a week or more. It’s very possible.” He rubbed his eyes. “Dammit. For a few minutes, I actually forgot about Copeland’s death. What a fucked-up day.”
“We need to have Dr. Rutledge check the paternity of Lindsay’s baby,” Zander muttered.
“What difference will it make who the father is?” Greer said bitterly. “Both the mother and the baby are dead.”
Dead. Mother. Baby.
Zander fought to hide the shudder that abruptly racked his limbs. “You know as well as I do that it could indicate motivation. Or at least part of the motivation,” he said. “We should find out anyway. I’ll shoot him an email.”
“We’ll need a sample from Billy.”
“Let’s first see if it’s Sean’s.” Zander took a deep breath. This case was getting more twisted by the minute. “Has Kyle or Billy been in the prison system?”
The sheriff took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “I remember Kyle going away for a bit. Assault charge, I think. I want to say he was down in Salem at the state pen. I think Billy’s only been held in the county lockup, but I can double-check.” He replaced the hat and gave a firm tug on the brim. “Let’s head inside and take a look. I need to check in with the crime scene unit back at Copeland’s too.”