“Creepy how?” Agent Santos asked.
Josie chewed on a thumbnail. The way Cutter looked at Becky, the way he touched her. It was hard to put into words. “He kept touching Becky, trying to get close to her. She didn’t like it.”
“She told you that?” Santos asked.
“Not really. But I could tell,” Josie said.
“I heard Becky had a bit of a crush on Ethan,” Santos said.
“No,” Josie said automatically. “I don’t think so. She never said anything to me.”
“You’re doing great, Josie,” Santos said. “Just a few more questions for right now. Can you think of anyone who might be angry with your parents? Want to hurt them?”
Josie’s first thought was no. Everyone liked her mom and dad. She’d never heard her mother share a cross word and her father made people smile with his gentle teasing. Agent Santos’s direct stare made Josie squirm in the hospital bed.
Josie could really only think of one person who had been so angry, so enraged with her parents, but she couldn’t say Ethan’s name out loud.
“My dad didn’t like Brock Cutter’s dad,” Josie said abruptly.
“Because of the trouble Brock and Ethan got into?” Santos asked.
Josie nodded. “And they just didn’t like each other.” She didn’t quite know how to explain it. Josie wanted her mother. Her mom would know what to do, help Josie find the right words. Sensing her distress, Josie’s grandmother jumped in.
“Randy Cutter was quite angry with my daughter and her husband over a parcel of land,” Caroline explained. “It got pretty ugly at the time. William bought a piece of farmland that Randy thought should have gone to him. It came to blows, lawyers got involved. When several of their livestock were found dead, William was sure Randy Cutter had something to do with it. Could never prove it, though. Things seemed to have calmed down over the past few years, but things haven’t been the same between them since.”
“And this was over land?” Santos asked.
“We don’t get many homicides around here,” Sheriff Butler said, “but when we do, they can usually be traced back to one of two things—infidelity or land disputes.”
This was interesting, Santos thought. The Cutter name was coming up again and again.
“We found your brother’s gun in the cornfield this morning, Josie,” Santos said in a low, serious voice. “Not far from where you said you were hiding.” Josie looked down at her bandaged arm. “Can you think why his shotgun would be there?”
Josie shrugged.
“Josie, I know this is hard,” Santos said. “But is there any chance that your brother was the one who could have hurt your parents and chased you into the field?”
“No,” Josie exclaimed, her eyes filling with tears. “He wouldn’t do that, he wouldn’t.”
“We have tests to show whether a gun has been fired recently. What do you think that test is going to tell us about Ethan’s gun?”
“He didn’t mean it,” Josie cried. “He wasn’t aiming at us. He shot into the air.”
Agent Santos and Agent Randolph exchanged glances. “You saw your brother shoot his gun yesterday?” Randolph asked.
“Yes, but he wasn’t shooting at anyone,” Josie insisted. “My arm hurts,” she said, looking at her grandmother for help.
“That’s enough for now,” Caroline said firmly. “The doctor said Josie could go home.”
“We’ll talk more later,” Agent Santos said. “Get some rest, Josie.”
Santos and Randolph stepped into the hallway to find Sheriff Butler waiting for them.
“Two dead parents, a girl with a shotgun wound and the boy’s missing along with his truck and a thirteen-year-old girl,” Santos stated. “It’s not looking good for Ethan Doyle.”
Sheriff Butler shook his head. “I’ve known that family for a long time and I know how it looks, but I’m having a hard time believing Ethan did this.”
“How many murders did you say you deal with in a year?” Agent Randolph asked. There was no rancor in his voice, but Butler knew when he was being talked down to.
With the lowest murder rate in the state of Iowa, his county had little experience in dealing with crimes of the nature that took place the night before, but his department worked hard and did their jobs.
“Not many, but I do know the people in this county, and I don’t peg Ethan Doyle as a murderer,” Butler said. He rubbed his eyes as they walked toward the hospital exit. Agent Randolph went to get the car while Santos lagged behind.