CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

Millsville was the kind of town that made Liberty Grove look like Las Vegas. One long stretch of asphalt masquerading as Main Street, flanked by buildings so weathered they might crumble if you sneezed too hard. The squad car sat in front of the only stoplight in town, a rusted relic that probably hadn"t changed colors since Nixon was in office.

Ella squinted through the shimmering heat waves rising off the pavement. There he was, Lawrence Holbrook, environmental crusader extraordinaire, stuffed in the back of a Crown Vic like last week"s garbage.

‘Show time,' Ella muttered, climbing out of the car. ‘Ready to meet our local Lorax?'

‘Just try and stop me,' Luca said.

Holbrook looked like he"d stepped straight out of a time machine set to Woodstock "69. His hair was a wild tangle of grey-streaked brown, barely contained by a frayed bandana. His beard could"ve housed small wildlife. The guy was all angles and edges, sharp elbows and knobby knees poking out from threadbare jeans and a tie-dye shirt that had seen better days.

As they drew closer, Holbrook"s eyes locked onto them. Sharp. Alert. Not the glazed-over look of your typical tree-hugger riding a permanent high. The car door was open, and Holbrook's gangly legs were hanging outside.

‘Lawrence Holbrook?' Ella flashed her badge. ‘I"m Special Agent Dark, this is my partner Agent Hawkins. FBI.'

Holbrook"s eyebrows shot up, disappearing into the jungle of his hair. ‘FBI? Come to plant evidence on me?'

‘Plant evidence? I haven't done that in weeks,' Ella said as she sized him up, trying to gauge if this scarecrow of a man could be their killer. He was wiry, sure, with the kind of sinewy strength that came from years of chaining yourself to bulldozers. But was he capable of subduing a grown man? Tying concrete to his ankles and hauling him downstream? The jury was still out. ‘Mind telling us what brings you to the thriving metropolis of Millsville?'

Holbrook snorted. ‘Thriving? Good one. I"m here to protest the new strip mall they"re building on Elm. Like this town needs another temple to consumerism.'

Something flickered across Holbrook"s face. A shadow of the passion she"d seen in that old footage. But it was gone as quick as it came, replaced by a weary cynicism.

‘What about this dam? The one you protested last year?'

‘Oh yeah, that old thing,' he said, waving a hand dismissively. ‘Ancient history now.'

‘That's what war criminals say.'

Holbrook shrugged. ‘Too big for someone like me to make a difference.'

Ella pressed on, fishing for a reaction. ‘It's still causing a whole lot of present-day problems for folks around Liberty Grove. You telling me you just... gave up on that fight?'

Holbrook"s laugh was as dry as the riverbed they"d found Marcus Ayers in. ‘What"s the point? Can"t fight city hall, can"t fight progress, can"t fight human greed. The dam"s built. The damage is done. All the protests in the world won"t bring that town back to life.'

The defeat in his voice was palpable. This wasn"t the fire-breathing radical she"d expected. This was a man who"d had the fight beaten out of him by years of losing battles.

Luca jumped in, his tone deceptively casual. ‘So where were you this afternoon, Mr. Holbrook? Around two, three o"clock?'

‘Right here in lovely downtown Millsville,' Holbrook drawled. ‘Been up and down this street all day, trying to drum up support for the anti-strip mall petition. Not that anyone in this ghost town gives a rat"s ass.'

Ella"s eyes narrowed. ‘That"s quite the alibi. I"m sure you won"t mind if we check the CCTV from the businesses around here to verify that?'

Holbrook spread his hands as far as the cuffs would allow. ‘Be my guest. I"ve got nothing to hide.'

And that was the kicker. He really didn"t seem to. The fire she"d seen in that old news report, the righteous anger that could drive a man to murder – it was gone. Snuffed out like a candle in a hurricane. Whatever passion had once driven Lawrence Holbrook, it had long since curdled into bitter resignation.

Ella"s gut twisted. This wasn"t their guy. The killer they were after was still out there, still driven by that unholy mix of rage and purpose that turned men into monsters.

‘Mr. Holbrook,' she said, leaning in close. ‘You"ve been in the trenches of this fight for a long time. Is there anyone else you can think of who might have a serious grudge against the people behind that dam? Someone who might have... taken things too far?'

Holbrook barked out a laugh. ‘Take your pick. Half the county"s got reason to want those bastards six feet under. But most folks around here are too beaten down to do much more than bitch about it over beers at the VFW. Hell, even the mayor was outspoken at first. Fat lot of good that did.'

Ella latched onto that. ‘The Mayor? Of Liberty Grove?'

‘Yeah. Ol' what's-his-name. Greg Dawson.'

She turned to Luca. He gave her one of his textbook we-might-have-something-here looks. ‘Greg Dawson. He opposed it too?'

‘Big time. Talked a big game about fighting the dam, protecting the little guy. Then as soon as they built it, he did a complete one-eighty. Started yapping about how it was gonna bring jobs and prosperity. Promised he"d make sure Liberty Grove got its fair share of the benefits.'

‘And that never happened.'

Holbrook spat on the ground. ‘Load of crap, of course. Town kept drying up, people kept leaving. Last I heard, Dawson got run out of office and went into hiding. Guess he finally figured out you can"t drink empty promises.'

A disgraced former mayor with ties to the dam project. It was tenuous, but it was more than they"d had five minutes ago.

Ella waved over a couple of uniforms. ‘Boys, do me a favor. Double-check Holbrook"s alibi. I want to know if he so much as sneezed without someone seeing it.'

The cops nodded, all business. No questions asked. That"s what Ella liked about small-town law enforcement – they knew when to shut up and follow orders.

She turned back to Holbrook, still crammed in the back of the squad car like a hippie sardine. ‘Stick to protesting strip malls, Holbrook. It"s safer for everyone that way. Especially you.'

Holbrook just shrugged, already retreating back into his shell of disillusionment.

Ella nodded to Luca, and they headed back to their car. The sun was starting to dip, painting the sky in shades of bruised purple and angry red. Fitting, she thought.

‘Well, that was about as useful as tits on a bull,' Luca muttered as they walked. ‘Guy"s got all the killer instinct of a declawed kitten.'

‘Yeah,' Ella agreed, fishing her keys out of her pocket. ‘No fire left in the belly. Plus, that alibi"s probably tighter than a knot. Marcus Ayers was drowned and dumped within the past few hours. If Holbrook has been here all day...'

They reached the car, the metal hot enough to fry an egg on. Ella yanked open the door. ‘We need to talk to this Greg Dawson character. Former mayor, probably disgraced. Might be trying to make amends with the townsfolk by offing the people that dried the place up.'

‘Didn"t you hear Holbrook? Dawson"s in hiding. Probably halfway to Mexico by now, if he"s got any sense.'

Ella grinned. ‘That"s why we"re going to have to get creative.'

Greg Dawson. Former mayor turned pariah. A man with secrets, hiding from a town that probably wanted his head on a platter. Wherever this guy was, Ella was going to root him out.