Page 16 of One Night Years Ago

“Not to this he wasn’t, Natalie,” Rob told her. “Dr. Ford just called. Lanie was killed between six and eight p.m. this evening. He must have dumped her as soon as he was done with her.”

“So?” she asked coldly.

“I know how much you want it to be him, Sheriff, but Dr. Barbara Leroy was here as well. She heard about what happened at the hospital. She claims Hunter Fowler was with her since just before six p.m. That they saw you at the hospital and left together.”

Natalie nodded. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Hunter knew something, she’d seen it in his eyes. But he had been at the hospital, just before six.

“We have to let him go, Sheriff. I’m surprised he hasn’t lawyered up yet.”

Natalie thought of that for a moment. Hunter hadn’t asked for a lawyer, not even once. She wondered what that meant. Maybe nothing.

“We have to let him go, Sheriff.”

I don’t want to let him go. Lanie deserves closure.

Without a word, she turned back into the room. She brought out the key to his handcuffs and released his hands. His wrists were raw from the cuffs, but he didn’t make a sound.

“Looks like you’re free to go, Mr. Fowler. Your friend Dr. Leroy says you were with her the whole evening.”

He looked her in the eyes, his gray eyes steady. “You know I was with her.”

“Don’t leave town, Mr. Fowler. I’ll need to question you again.”

He stood up, towering over her. She tensed, expecting to feel threatened and surprised when she didn’t.

“You’ll find me at the farm,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.” He walked towards the door, his stride almost leisurely, like he wasn’t in a rush to get there. Just before he breached the door, he turned to her. “Who is the girl?”

Natalie started. Everybody in town knew Lanie. Then again, maybe not him. Lanie had been a little kid when he’d gone to prison. Maybe he didn’t know her.

She ignored his question. “If you did this, I’ll make you pay, Hunter,” she added coldly.

He held her gaze for a moment. He seemed to be debating whether to say something or not. Finally, he took a deep breath and spoke in a low voice. “I didn’t do it, Sheriff. I understand you want it to be me, but you need to be looking for someone else.”

She followed him to the door leading out to the street. It was midnight. He walked out, his hands in his pockets to ward against the slight chill.

Chapter 8

Natalie

By nine a.m. she was back at Hunter Fowler’s farm. She might not be able to prove he did it, but she wasn’t going to give him a moment’s rest. If he killed Lanie, he was going to pay.

He came out of the house wearing the same dark blue jeans as the night before. He was wearing a white T-shirt today. It was loose around his slim hips but hugged the muscles in his arms and shoulders to perfection. She cringed at the admiring thought.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Sheriff Bowmann,” he greeted. He didn’t look at all surprised to see her. His short hair was wet, as if he’d recently been in the shower. He’d walked back to the farm in the middle of the night, so she knew he hadn’t gotten much sleep, but he didn’t even look tired.

Unlike her. She didn’t need a mirror to know there were serious bags under her eyes. She looked enviously at the steaming mug in his hand.

“How’s your mother?” she asked.

“Still sleeping,” he said. He lowered his voice. “She doesn’t know about this. I’d like to keep it that way if possible.”

She couldn’t keep herself from sniggering. “You don’t want her to know her son is a rapist?”

He flinched as if she’d slapped him.

“That’s what you are, you know. A rapist.”