An Evil Heart (Kate Burkholder, #15)(83)

“Sex lube?” he says. “Seriously?”

“I don’t know if it’s the same tube. But if Fisher used the lubricant I found in Karn’s closet for the bolt that killed Karn, his prints should be on the tube,” I say.

“Even if he did use the lube for the bolt, how did that tube end up back in Karn’s closet?”

“I don’t know, Mike. I haven’t worked that out yet.” I consider a moment. “Maybe the tube got passed around during a night of sex at the gas station. After Karn was killed, maybe Fisher went into Karn’s place and got rid of it, thinking it would never become an issue.”

“Why didn’t he just throw it away?” Rasmussen sighs. “Look, Kate, I know you’re not completely on board with Fisher, but—”

“If we find his prints on that tube, Mike, I’m in.” I pause. “Will you do me a favor?”

“Since you’re about to get married…”

I smile. “Will you send a deputy out to the gas station to see if there’s a tube of personal lubricant there perchance? Make sure we’re okay on the date of the warrant.”

“You got it.” He clears his throat. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”



* * *



The late-afternoon sun shimmers like gold dust on the field corn as I make the turn into the driveway of the house where Karn had lived. Wayne Graber’s muscle car is parked just off the garage portico. Mona’s vehicle is nowhere in sight, telling me she hasn’t yet arrived.

I bend my head to my lapel mike as I exit the Explorer. “Ten-twenty-three,” I say, letting Jodie know I’ve arrived on scene.

“Roger that, Chief.”

“Mona,” I say, “what’s your ETA?”

“I’m on Hogpath heading your way,” she tells me. “ETA eight minutes.”

“Copy that.” I enter the garage portico, go directly to the door, and knock. A black cat slinks around the side of a garbage can and rubs against my leg. I’m kneeling to pet the cat when the door swings open. I look up to see Wayne Graber standing at the door, looking at me.

“I see Kitty Bell has you charmed,” he says by way of greeting.

I straighten. “She’s friendly.”

“Especially if she thinks you’re going to feed her.” He bends to the cat, picks it up, and rubs its scruff. “Hey, girl.” He’s still wearing his work clothes. Flannel shirt and trousers. Scuffed boots. Budweiser in hand. Cap pulled over his hair.

“I heard about Vernon Fisher,” he says. “Can’t hardly believe it.”

“He’ll be formally arraigned tomorrow.”

“I guess you never really know about people, huh?”

“Sometimes.”

He pushes his cap up. “Can I help you with something?”

“I’m following up on some information I received from the coroner’s office,” I tell him, keeping the purpose of my visit vague. “I’d like to take another look at Aden’s bedroom if that’s all right with you.”

“What are you looking for?”

“There was a box,” I say. “In his closet. It’ll just take me a minute.”

“Uh…” He looks down at the cat, uses two fingers to rub the back of its neck.

When he makes no move to invite me inside, I add, “I can come back with a warrant if you prefer,” I say. “No problem.”

“No sense in you going to all that trouble. I ain’t even been back there. I guess I’ve been putting off packing up his stuff for his mamm and datt.” Holding the cat in one arm, he pushes the door open and goes inside. “Come on in. Take whatever you need. I’ll just stay out of your way.”

I follow him into the living room. The TV is tuned to a 1990s sitcom. A fast-food burger and fries sit atop an old-fashioned TV tray. “Sorry to interrupt your dinner,” I tell him as I start toward the hall. “I won’t be long.”

“No problem.” He stops in the middle of the living room. “Chief Burkholder?”

I turn to him and raise my brows.

“I just wanted to say…” He fumbles the words and, looking ungainly, shoves his hands into his pockets. “I knew Vernon was an asshole, but I never … I never thought he was capable of killing anyone.”

I stare at him a moment, taking in the awkwardness, the lack of eye contact and I nod. “I think a lot of people were surprised. That’s how it goes sometimes.”

He looks at the TV and doesn’t say anything else, so I continue down the hall, my mind already on the box in the closet. Wondering how I’m going to reach the top shelf. In the back of my mind, I’m pondering whether it’s even worth confiscating at this point.

I push open the door to Karn’s bedroom. The lighting is dim, so I flick the light switch, but it doesn’t come on. I go to the window, open the curtain. A glance outside tells me Mona hasn’t yet arrived. Vaguely, I’m aware of the TV in the living room. The laugh track and voices. I cross to the closet, open the door. There’s no stool or chair to step on, so I lift a wire hanger from the rod, bend it, and use it to slide the box toward me.

“Come on,” I mutter beneath my breath.