The man jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “That’s probably him running out the back door.”
Seth sprinted around the house just in time to see a thin figure in jeans and a black hoodie run into the woods.
“Stop! Police!” Seth had played football and lacrosse in college, and the months he and Carly were separated had been filled with hours upon hours of angry, frustrated exercise. He cranked up the speed. There was no way that little bastard was going to outrun him. He was not letting the man who might know where to find Bruce get away. Seth left Phil in the dust.
Fifty feet away, Travis turned down a ravine. They ran behind another house. A large dog barked behind a rickety chain link fence. Cursing his dress shoes and suit, Seth hit a patch of snow and skidded through the turn. He went down on one knee, then lurched right back into a dead run. Travis darted behind a shed. Seth slowed and drew his weapon. Travis could be armed.
Listening, Seth heard labored breathing. He led with his gun around the corner of the shed. The door yawned dark.
“Come out with your hands up,” Seth yelled. He scanned the ground around the foundation. One set of footprints led inside. Travis was in there. As much as Seth wanted to drag him out by the hair, he’d wait for Phil. Travis wasn’t going anywhere. Seth stayed out of the direct view of the open door, in case Travis had a gun. “I can hear you breathing from out here, Travis. You need to lay off the booze and exercise now and then.”
Panting, the dumbass burst from the door and took off again. If he hadn’t needed to talk to the stupid son of a bitch, Seth would have shot him. Instead he lunged after him, grabbing him by the back of the hood and yanking. Travis went down on his back, wheezing. He flailed for a few seconds, both hands going to his throat, where the neck of the hoodie had caught him in the windpipe.
Dumb. Ass.
Seth flipped Travis onto his belly, planted a knee in his back, and cuffed him. Seth patted down his pockets but found no weapons. Just a cell phone and wallet. He leaned on Travis’s spine. “Where is he?”
“Where is who?” Travis gasped at the snowy ground. “Hey, you’re hurting me. This is police brutality. Ow. My hand.”
Seth grabbed the dumbass’s elbow and hauled him onto his knees. Travis’s left ring finger was black and blue, and he’d made a crude splint out of a pencil secured with duct tape. “What happened to your finger?”
Travis looked at the ground. “I caught it in a car door.”
Liar. “I’m not in the mood for games.”
Travis’s eyes narrowed in insolence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You have no right to handcuff me.”
“You’re on parole, Travis. You should play nice, or I’ll start looking for a reason to put you back in prison.”
Travis glared.
“Where is Amber Lynn’s new boyfriend?” Seth prompted.
“The dude that threatened me yesterday?” Travis looked truly confused. “Why would I know where he is?”
“What about Amber Lynn?”
“What about Amber Lynn?” Travis shouted. “The selfish bitch wouldn’t help me. No point in going back to see her.”
“Wouldn’t help you with what?” Seth wanted to punch this kid in the face so badly his fists ached.
“I just needed a little cash to tide me over. I started a new job, but I ain’t got paid yet,” Travis complained. “I know she has some money put aside. Always does. She don’t spend money on anything.”
Amber Lynn had been smart enough not to give it to him, thought Seth. “She’s dead, Travis.”
His mouth opened, but a few seconds passed before he emitted a squeaky, “What?”
Shock wasn’t the reaction Seth had hoped for.
Phil caught up with them. Seth led Travis back to the house. When they reached his brother’s yard, Luke White was waiting outside, arms folded over a brawny chest.
“Did you kill Amber Lynn, Travis?” Seth asked as they marched toward the patrol car.
“I didn’t kill anybody!” Travis yelled, panic raising the pitch of his voice as if, now that he was getting close to the police car, he suddenly comprehended the seriousness of the situation.
“Let’s see. You were seen arguing with Amber Lynn yesterday, and you’ve already done time for aggravated assault. Murder doesn’t seem like a big stretch,” Seth reasoned. The sheer stupidity of criminals never ceased to amaze him. It was the big element that TV crime shows got wrong. Most thugs weren’t evil geniuses. They were dumbasses like Travis.
“I didn’t kill her,” Travis insisted. “I didn’t even know she was dead.”
“If you aren’t guilty, then why did you run?” Seth asked.
Travis shrugged. “I panicked. I don’t want to go back to prison.”
“What have you done to get you sent back to prison?” Seth asked.
“Nothing,” Travis mumbled.
Seth pushed harder. “Where were you last night?”
“I went for a drive.”
“No one saw you?” Seth asked.
“No.”
“You didn’t stop for a burger or anything?”