Side Story #1 - Colt - Page 57

"Before that," said Colt, "let me just get a few things straight here. So you saw me in town and just decided to follow me home for no other reason than because I'm new in Orden?"

"Weeeellll..." Malcolm gave a slow shrug. "There was also the whole, y'know, murder of Sheriff Rexford Margot on my mind. New people in town are suspicious at a time like this. No offense. Just the way it is."

"And that makes it okay to trespass?" said Colt.

"Oh, uh, well, of course not. I intended to keep my distance, but when I saw Brick, I figured I should come get him. And again, thank you for looking after him all this time. After so long, my family and I feared the worst."

Steering the conversation back toward the dog, huh? Yeah, it was Malcom's strongest card, right now.

Hmm.

"Do you think I killed the sheriff?" said Colt.

Malcolm's eyes widened a little, and he exhaled half a laugh. "Wow. You just came right out and said it, didn't you? Not one to mince words, I see. I respect that."

Colt just stared at him flatly, waiting for him to actually answer the question.

Malcolm stroked his chin. "No. I don't think you did it. Got no motive, as far as I can tell."

Damn right he didn't.

"Plus," Malcolm went on, "if I did think you were the killer, it wouldn't be very smart of me to confront you all by myself, now would it?"

"Mm. Well, that's good to hear. But what exactly would you have done if you thought I did it? Can't really call the cops on me at the moment, can you?"

"Heh. Orden may be short on policemen, but there are still plenty in Lagoroc who would be happy to come help me. I've got quite a rapport with those guys, as it happens."

"Right. And you're just investigating the sheriff's death purely to satisfy your own curiosity?"

Malcolm's expression hardened a bit. "Let's just say I've got my reasons."

"Let's not just say that. You're on my property. You're near my children. Either answer my questions properly or get the hell out of here."

The other man paused at that, eyes drifting to Brick.

Colt didn't want to burn a bridge here with a potential ally in the investigation, but he wasn't about to bend over backwards for this guy, either. If it came down to it, he'd much rather continue working the case alone than rely on some asshole who wanted to play coy with him.

Malcolm stared at him for a long moment, mulling it over. "I was a cop myself, once upon a time. Guess you could say this is a bit personal for me."

More than 'a bit,' Colt knew. He wondered how much Malcolm would be willing to tell him. A part of him wanted to just come right and say that he knew Rex was his wife's ex-husband, but volunteering information like that didn't seem wise. If nothing else, Colt could get a clearer picture of Malcolm's character by seeing what the man chose to share and what he chose to leave out. In particular, it would give him an idea of how much he could trust the answers to questions that he didn't already know the answer to.

"Noble of you," said Colt flatly.

Malcolm made no response.

He needed to push a little more. "That really it? Just an ex-cop being a bit nosy?"

"That so hard to believe?"

"Dunno. Just sayin', if it were me, I'd need a little more motivation to involve myself in a murder case." Which sounded like a lie, but it wasn't, he felt. Thanks to being undead, Colt wasn't too concerned about losing his life in this investigation, and the long-term safety of the twins was more than enough reason for him to try to suss out who the killer was.

Malcolm gave a harsh smile. "You tryin' to imply somethin', friend?"

It was Colt's turn not to answer. There were a number of ways Malcolm could have interpreted his last remark, and he wanted to see which it was.

Malcolm didn't bite, though. "You said you used to work in private security, didn't you?"

"I did."

"What made you give it up and come live all the way out here?"

"The birth of my children."

"Ah. Yeah, that'd do it, I suppose." Malcolm eyed the cabin up and down. "Still, it's quite a change, isn't it? And livin' out here in the woods, all by your lonesome? Seems a little extreme, don't you think?"

Colt could see where this line of questioning was headed, and he didn't want to deal with it. Better to cut it short. "You insultin' my home?"

"Oh, not at all. I just meant--"

"Sounds like you're insultin' my home."

"Ah, I didn't mean--"

"Maybe it's not as fancy as whatever palace you're livin' in, but I happen to like it quite a bit, thank you very much."

Malcolm raised his hands in front of him. "Look, Mr. Thompson, I meant no offense."

"Should be more careful not to slander a man's residence, then." And now for the bait to change the subject. "Where I come from, we consider that pretty damn rude."

"I apologize." And Malcolm paused. "And where is that, Mr. Thompson? Where do you come from?"

Perfect. "Dante. You?"

"Snider, born and raised."

"Mm," hummed Colt, finally stepping closer to the cabin. He could ease up here and hand control of the conversation back to Malcolm, but what would be the point in that? If he was going to get anything useful out of this guy, then he shouldn't just keep playing defensively the whole time. "And what made you stop bein' a cop?"

"Ah... gettin' kinda personal now, aren't we?"

"You're the one trespassing." He opened the front door, and as soon as he did, Brick bolted inside.

Colt and Malcolm exchanged looks.

"...Glad to see he's still got so much energy," said Malcolm with visible hesitation.

"...You sure this dog belongs to you?" said Colt.

"He does! I swear! He just--! He doesn't like me much, is all."

Suddenly, Colt felt a little better about how Brick had been treating him. "Right..."