I perked up. “Oh?”

“How about I start with Butcher?”

“Okay,” I said as I picked up a fork and started to dig into the noodles.

“The car crash was Butcher’s first run-in with the law. Not even any speeding tickets. His tox screen was negative, but his story changed about what happened—at first he said he lost control and hit the tree, and in a later statement he claimed to have fallen asleep. The officer who took the second statement said Butcher seemed despondent, but he attributed it to his injuries, which were extensive. Broken legs, a broken arm, internal injuries. The officer included in the report that Butcher was scheduled to go to a physical therapy rehab center and that he had no support system to care for him. He was divorced at the time of his accident, but I don’t know for how long, and his parents were deceased. His next police report, two years later, was for a DUI arrest. He hit another car while high on Oxy. Thankfully, the occupants of the other car weren’t injured, and neither was Butcher. He got off with probation. There are more reports, several overdoses, some breaking and entering charges. It’s obvious he became a drug addict, likely after the accident.”

I swallowed my mouthful of food. “Which goes along with my theory that he couldn’t handle the guilt. He tried to kill himself, and when that didn’t work, he tried to lose himself in drugs.”

“Orrrr…” he said, drawing out the word. “He got hooked on painkillers after his accident. From what I can tell, he was just a normal guy, living his life. He had a job with a small metal fabricator in Ewing. It’s not uncommon for people you wouldn’t suspect of becoming drug addicts to get hooked on them after a major injury.”

“So you don’t think there’s a connection?”

“I didn’t say that,” he said, tilting his head. “But it’s not clear cut.”

I swirled more spaghetti on my fork. “So we need to talk to him. Did you get an address?”

He hesitated. “Yeah. He’s at the Northeast Correctional Complex in Mountain City.”

I paused with my fork halfway to my mouth. “What’s that? A drug rehab center?”

“No, it’s prison.”

“Oh,” I said, then took a bite.

“His last arrest was for breaking into a house and stealing their electronics and jewelry to pay for his drug habit. At least he got sent to Northeast. They have a substance abuse counseling program.”

“Maybe he’ll get his life together.”

“Yeah.” But he didn’t sound convinced.

“So talking to him is out.”

“Not necessarily. We could make a request to meet with him, but he might refuse us, not to mention it will likely take a whole day to get up there, meet with him, and then get back. It could be a wasted effort. Plus, it’s going to look suspicious as hell if word gets back to my department.”

“Which means you can’t go, Marco,” I said insistently.

Disgust washed over his face. “I’m not letting you go alone, Carly.” But then his face softened. “Honestly, I don’t think either of us should go. It’s likely a wasted trip, and his credibility is shot to hell. His word against Bart’s?” He shook his head. “We’d be better served to turn our attention elsewhere.”

“So what did you find out about Thad’s accident?”

“Fifteen months ago, Thad and his friend Spencer Gensler were hanging out at the overlook, drinking. They took off toward town in Thad’s mother’s minivan and hit Karl Lister in his Subaru head on. The boys’ tox screens were positive for marijuana and their blood alcohol levels were .16 and .10. Lister’s tests were all negative. All three had significant injuries, but Lister’s were the worst. He was life flighted to Greeneville.”

“And the boys went to the same hospital.”

“Yes. The friend—Spencer—was charged with underaged drinking, but Thad faced multiple charges. Felonies. And the prosecutor was considering trying him as an adult.”

“Why didn’t he?”

Marco shrugged. “He changed his mind? Thad was only thirteen, and it would have been a harder sell since no one died. I suspect the DA considered it because he was up for reelection, and there’s a lot of public disgust for the booming drug trade in these parts, especially in Ewing. He might have thought it would make him look tougher on drugs. But while the boys had pot in their systems, the crash was due to Thad being drunk. As you’ve probably figured out from the large numbers of customers at the tavern, drinking is considered acceptable around here. And yeah, he was much too young to be drinking, but the good people of Hensen County are much more forgiving about DUIs.”

“Except for Wyatt’s DUI,” I reminded him. “He was sent to prison.”

“Well,” he said with a sigh, “we both know that was different. Whether it was a judge bringing the Drummonds down a peg, or Bart convincing a judge to teach Wyatt a lesson, it was not the norm.”

“So the DA dropped all the charges against Thad?”

“Oh, no. He still threw the book at him, but Thad was charged as a minor. Then, all of a sudden, everything got dropped except for a much lesser charge of reckless driving and the civil lawsuit. Thad only got twenty hours of community service.”

“And his friend? What did he get?”

Marco rubbed his forehead. “I haven’t found out yet, but I hope to tomorrow.”

I nodded and then took another bite of food.

“Another thing…Pam’s pleading guilty.”

“What?”

“She entered an innocent plea at her arraignment, but I suspect it was only because her attorney was hoping for a bargain from the DA. Rumor has it she’s planning to change her plea at her next hearing.”

I set my fork back down on my plate.

“Look, Carly, I know you feel bad for her, but she pulled the trigger. Three times. She killed a man in cold blood.”

“I know.” I looked up at him. “I went to his office.”

His face stilled. “What?”

“I planned to just drive by, but I saw all those people gathered at the memorial. So I stopped.” When he looked panicked, I added, “I didn’t talk to anyone. I don’t know why I stopped. I guess I had to see it to make this all more real. She may have been used, but she’s not innocent. I was only there for a few minutes, though. I looked like someone paying their respects. That’s it.”

Relief washed over his face.

“Selena gave me a lot of information about Jim and his family. She knew them.”

“Really?”

I told him about Jim’s involvement in the community and then floated my theory about his wife, Melinda, from the situation with her business to her reluctance to live in Ewing.

“If she ran into trouble with her business, she might have gone to Bart.”

He didn’t say anything, mulling it over.

“What I don’t understand,” I said, “is how a middle-class transplant to Ewing would find out about Bart.”

“You’d be surprised,” he said, shifting in his seat. “It’s all based on rumors. It’s possible.”

“I started digging on the internet, but I ran out of time,” I said. “I barely had a chance to look into Jim, Melinda, and their kids. I didn’t even touch Pam and her family. And then there’s Ashlynn’s ex-boyfriend, Chuck Holston, the father of her baby. According to Selena, he was supposedly in jail several months ago for drug possession.”