Harvestland

TWENTY-SEVEN

The ringing phone was not her office phone.

Eliza fished out the cellular from the bag next to her desk. Caller ID said PRIVATE.

A familiar voice. Confident. Like syrup. "Detective Lehman, always a pleasure."

"Mr. Collins. How can I help you?"

"You and your partner violated my trust, Detective. You went to see my ex-wife. What did she tell you?"

"Mr. Collins, I'm not at liberty to discuss—"

"I told you not to look into this. And not only did you look into it, you did so with your estranged partner. Very interesting."

"Mr. Collins, it's not you we're interested in. When someone sends you a letter with my office as the return address, I am inclined to want answers for my own sake."

"And was Diane able to help you?"

"No, she wasn't."

Collins sighed, chuckled. "Oh Detective, you disappoint me."

"How's that?"

"You continue to lie to me."

"Mr. Collins—"

"Spare me."

"Respectfully, Mr. Collins, don't interrupt me again. Now. Your ex-wife is delusional. You know this. You know the fantasy world she lives in. She was unable to offer anything of value."

"Hmm, okay, well, then please explain to me what Noah Faison was doing in Waverly, Iowa this past weekend."

"What, I..."

Eliza immediately began feeling under her desk. A mentor from her O'Dell & Pritchard days told her it was a smart expense to have professionals sweep her office for bugs every month. It had been a couple weeks since the last time they came through. And they always did a thorough job.

"Detective Lehman," Collins resumed, "I'm a powerful man. I can do many things. I can look up phone records, anyone's phone records, like your office's. I can see your correspondence."

Son of a bitch.

"Now," he said, "let's try this again. What business did Noah Faison have in Waverly?"

Eliza sighed. "Mr. Faison believes he was contacted by the same person who contacted you. He was also given a drawing. Wherever that might have led him, I do not know."

"Oh, but I think you do. You know about her now, don't you?"

"Who."

Another sigh. Another chuckle. "This is my final warning, Detective. If you keep snooping around, or if Noah Faison comes anywhere near Waverly again, I will make you and your partner's lives very...interesting."

He ended the call before she could say anything further.

Noah looked down the sights of the barrel, carefully aiming the Glock at the target before firing.

Detective Hagen stood next to him. He pushed a button and Noah watched the paper target of a human silhouette move down the belt from the back of the indoor gun range and come to a stop in front of him.

He took off the protective glasses for a better look. There was a close spattering of bullets, some on the black of the body, many outside in the white.