Wild Secret

about the gig?”
“Your bandmates are pretty hot.”
She smirked. “They are. How will you ever manage?” she snarked.
“So far, the lead singer is keeping me occupied.”
“Don't think about it too long. We’ve got a show next week, and we need to practice."
"You haven't heard me play."
“If Crash says you're pretty good, you're pretty good. Plus, I have a feeling about you. There's untapped potential there," she said with a naughty grin.
“There are too many things to go wrong with this scenario," I said.
"What's to go wrong? I can keep my personal feelings in check if you can. Business is business. Pleasure is pleasure."
"It seems like your drummer couldn't separate business from personal."
“You’re not screwing my drummer. You’re screwing me. And after the temper tantrum she threw last night, I might be looking for a new drummer too. Don’t get me wrong, I like Katie, she's fantastic. What Faye did was inexcusable. I just wish Katie would have confronted her after the show instead of before."
"Matters of the heart are often hard to control."
"I understand. I'm just saying…"
“Call Crash. Ask him to sit in."
"I'm not gonna be the one to call him up and explain the reason why we fired Faye."
I groaned. "I really don't want to be the bearer of bad news in this situation."
"Somebody needs to tell him."
"It's gonna devastate him.”
Sadie frowned.
"I'll call him after a while,” I said. “I need time to plan this out."
“He might already know. Maybe Faye came clean with him."
My phone buzzed with a call from Denise. I swiped the screen and put the phone to my ear.
"I got some interesting news," she said. “Before I get to the good stuff… Cameron Hartsell was arrested last night for DUI. He totaled another car.”
“That must have been the story Paris was chasing. Maybe this one will stick.”
“Let’s hope so.”
“Ok, give me the good stuff.”
“Marshall Noonan's DNA did not match the fetus in the Skyler Locke case. However, we got a hit on an unsolved rape case up in Pineapple Bay. It was a positive match for Noonan. Looks like he's going back to the can for a long time."
A satisfied smirk curled my lips. "Well, what do you know?"
“There's more… We don’t have Randy Murdoch’s DNA analysis back yet, but I can tell you he’s not going to match.”
My brow crinkled. "Why do you say that?"
“According to Brenda, there are matching strands that could only come from a family relation.”
That hung there for a second.
My stomach twisted. "You mean…" I didn't even want to say it out loud.
"Yup. There's only one person that could be the father of that baby. Daniels is working on getting a warrant now. He wants you and JD to get down to the station. Take Erickson and Faulkner, and bring that guy in."
"With pleasure."

39
There was no need to break down Paul Locke’s door. No need to storm his house with tactical gear and assault rifles. With his bad hip, Paul was in no condition to put up a fight.
I knocked on the door, and he answered a few minutes later. Concern twisted his face when he saw Erickson and Faulkner standing behind us. Uniformed deputies often have that effect.
"What can I do for you, gentlemen?" he asked with an air of trepidation.
"You're under arrest for sexual battery,” I said.
His face crinkled. "What!?"
“Turn around and put your hands behind your head.”
“You’ve made some kind of mistake.”
“No mistake.”
He scowled but complied.
JD slapped the cuffs around his wrists, and Faulkner and Erickson escorted him down the walkway to the patrol car. Paul hobbled along, still stunned.
I read him his rights. “You have the right to remain silent…"
We interviewed him after he was processed and printed. The sexual battery charge would be a slam dunk once we had acquired his DNA. The murder charge might prove a little more difficult. It would be best to extract a confession.
Paul sat in the interrogation room with a tense look on his face.
JD and I took a seat across the table from him. I shook my head in utter dismay. "I just don't understand how a person could do such a thing. Please explain it to me. You know, on second thought, I don't think I want to know what you were thinking."
Paul said nothing.
“I’ve got a court order that says I can take a sample of your DNA. So there’s no sense in arguing.”
Worry tensed his face.
“You found out Skyler was pregnant. She was about to tell Deborah what you had been doing to her all those years. That would have destroyed you. You had to get rid of her. You figured you could blame it on the boyfriend or the guy she was having an affair with or a random serial killer. You either bought the barrel from Randy Murdock, or you stole it from the warehouse."
Paul remained silent.
"It doesn't really matter if you confess or not,” I said, hoping for a little reverse psychology. “A first-degree felony sexual battery charge against a minor will be enough to put you away for the rest of your life. Might as well admit to the murder."
"I want to speak with an attorney."
"Sure thing. But an attorney isn’t gonna help you.” I opened the DNA collection kit, snapped on nitrile gloves, and pulled out the swab. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. But I will get the sample."
Paul's face tensed.
He eventually complied, and we dropped the sample off at the lab. Paul was transferred to the housing pod. He'd be arraigned in the morning. The sexual battery charge was compounded by the fact he was a family member in custodial care. I wasn't sure if prosecutors would bring the murder charge just yet or wait until we had more evidence.
JD and I sat in the conference room, filling out after-action reports. There was no great sense of satisfaction. I was glad to have arrested Paul, but it didn't change the fact that something horrible had occurred all those years ago, and that uneasy