The Hunted Girls by Jenna Kernan (best book club books for discussion txt) 📕

as she screamed at her and Arlo over various offenses and she felt instantly sorry for Simon.

“She always on him like that?” asked Demko to the naturalist.

“Yeah. I told him he should quit, but he said he can’t find another job. I mean, who would hire him?”

Nadine noted the worn sci-fi novel in Simon’s back pocket.

“He average intelligence?” asked Demko, watching Simon.

“Yeah. Think so, but there’s something off about him.” Lionel’s attention flicked to the lake. “Look at that!”

An osprey dove into the water, emerging with a fish.

“I’ll bet she has chicks to feed. Nature’s way.”

“You a bow hunter?” asked Demko.

“Me? No. Never.”

Demko finished up with Lionel who studied the photos of the known victims but did not recognize either. Nadine took Molly to a picnic table to watch as Demko interviewed Simon.

The man shifted restlessly, rubbed his neck and glanced away for rescue, but his mother had left for the office. He barely glanced at the photos. He was showering Nadine with signals of deception and projecting his unease.

They caught up with Roy before leaving. His wife had given him a heads-up. He seemed distracted, rushed and offered little.

Back in the vehicle, Demko turned to her.

“What do you think about Simon?”

“Odd guy. I’d run a background on all of them, but he’s got loads of tells that speak of some issues.”

“I agree.”

She turned to watch Molly toss her manatee toy in the air and then dive behind the seats to retrieve it.

Demko was on his computer: “No priors on Useche, Dietz, Decristofaro or Mr. and Mrs. Kilpatrick. Useche is listed as a resident of Louisiana. The rest are Florida residents. All but Decristofaro and Useche have hunting and fishing licenses. Simon Kilpatrick has a failed attempt to enlist in the army and marines.”

They made one more stop, at a bike rental and repair shop. The only interesting detail there was one employee with an outstanding warrant. Demko called that one into the sheriff’s office and then headed toward Ocala.

Nadine now had two men who were providing many nonverbal cues of deception: Rita Karnowski’s boyfriend, Hugo Betters; and the odd handyman and son of the owners of the marina, Simon Kilpatrick. Betters made her suspicious, but Simon gave off a different vibe. He reminded her of the runt of the litter, picked on by the rest of the pack.

“I forgot to tell you, last time I visited my mother, I mentioned you to her,” he said.

Demko’s comment jolted her from her musings as he casually dropped that bombshell in her lap.

“Did you?” she asked.

“She’s anxious to meet you. I told her I’d try to talk you into a visit. Maybe Saturday?”

A visit to the high-security prison where Clint’s mother was held—that also happened to hold Nadine’s own mother—made the stress of meeting his parent all that more nerve-wracking.

“It’s Arlo’s weekend,” she said, referring to her monthly visit to see her brother.

“Maybe next weekend.” Demko cast her a long glance. “She’s doing everything right. I don’t think it’s really necessary for her to serve her entire sentence.”

“Except she planned your father’s murder and he’s still dead.”

He scowled, the expression sending furrows across his forehead.

“My half brother did that. He threw her under the bus to get leniency.”

She knew from doing some digging that his mother had given her eldest son, Connor, the cash to purchase the shotgun, but her boy had a prior for drugs and could not complete the transaction. She also provided Connor with the key to the back door to his father’s medical building.

In addition, prior to the homicide, Clint’s mom had at least two affairs with men she tried to convince to kill her husband. Her motive was the two million insurance policy and over one million in assets.

Unfortunately, Clint had told her none of this.

“Clint. It’s not healthy to allow your mom a pass on this or to level all of the blame on Connor.” She knew Clint did not speak to, visit or write to his half brother. Connor Nesbitt had been twenty-four at the time of the crime. He and Arlo shared the same correctional facility.

Had their mothers met? she wondered.

Demko had legally changed his name after adoption by his dad’s sister. He’d been born Caleb Nix. His sister, Carlie, born Caroline Nix, had done the same.

“She’s a good person inside,” he said.

She gave a long exhalation as she tried to gather her patience.

“What is wrong with loving my mother?”

“You can love her. My issue is with your unwillingness to assign her any portion of blame.”

His face reddened and his grip on the wheel tightened.

“Do you think she was falsely convicted?” asked Nadine.

The pause stretched for more than a mile.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine.”

His voice turned sullen. “I’m not one of your patients.”

“I realize that.”

Molly left the window, where she had her entire head outside of the vehicle, and laid her chin on Demko’s shoulder. He gave his dog a one-armed hug and a kiss.

After several minutes, Clint’s grip on the wheel relaxed and the lines bracketing his mouth eased. Molly returned to the window. How had the canine known that her master needed the dog’s version of a hug? Nadine turned to watch the dog, jowls flapping, eyes half-closed and nose in the air.

Animals were so odd, intuitive in a way she couldn’t comprehend.

“Listen, I’m sorry if I got defensive. I know what she did. I know she’s manipulative. But she was a good mother to me and Carlie.”

“Yes. I understand.”

“And what about you? Is your relationship with your mom any better?”

A classic redirect, she thought, refusing to be sucked into this topic.

“Currently, I have no relationship with her. That’s best for me for the time being.”

He arched his brow but said nothing.

Nadine spied a Mexican market. “Hey, pull in.”

He did and cut the engine. “You need something here?”

“Mexican Coke or Jarritos.” She was so thirsty after their afternoon and wanted a drink. The Mexican Coca-Cola was made with real sugar and was simply the best. But the mandarin-orange-flavored soda was