Keeping Secrets

by L A Dobbs

  Dupont's beady eyes got even beadier. "You're no longer the chief here, Woolston. You do realize that, I hope."

  "Oh, I know you're the big fancy mayor and everything." Harry's criticism of Dupont ratcheted up Sam's opinion of him. "But I gotta tell you there's a lot of us in town that don't like the way things are going here."

  "What do you mean?" Dupont asked. "My popularity rating is higher than ever. People are seeing my commercials all over the county." He bent down to pet Lucy. "And with the addition of Lucy to the police force, the townspeople like me now more than ever."

  "Some of the townspeople." Harry stepped closer to Dupont. "But there's some of us that see what you're doing. Some of us have noticed you're giving a little bit extra favoritism to Thorne and his destructive building plans."

  Dupont scowled. "I am not. I'm looking out for the economy of this town. Building restaurants and hotels brings in jobs."

  "And it kills off wildlife and ruins the pristine landscape," Harry said.

  "Some things must be sacrificed in the name of progress." Dupont turned to Sam. "Speaking of which, is there any progress on Mike Donnelly's case? I hope you aren't still going around harassing innocent citizens. Word is out that you are continuing to investigate, and people are getting nervous there is a murderer in our midst. Why aren't you ruling it a simple suicide?"

  "We've got some things we need to look into before we can do that. The vultures did a job on the body, and we couldn't prove conclusively that Mike shot himself. We have to do our due diligence by law. Wouldn't want the taxpayers to think we did a shoddy job of investigating. So if you'll let us get back to it..." Sam's voice drifted off.

  Dupont thought for a moment. It took a while for things to sink in with him. "Fine, I'll leave you to it. I just came to make sure that Lucy was being cared for properly by you people and that you weren't wasting taxpayer money on some kind of vendetta."

  "You're one to talk about wasting taxpayer money." Harry stepped closer to Dupont. "Us senior citizens are watching you. We don't like the way all these new buildings are going up, and rumor has it Marnie Wilson is going to run against you, so you better watch it. She's got the senior vote, and up here, that counts for a lot. Us seniors don't want the woods all chopped up and newfangled hotels going up. We don't want anyone who is in bed with someone like Thorne running our town."

  "I'm not in bed with anyone." Dupont became defensive. "I'm only looking out for the good of the town." And with that, he turned on his heel and left.

  Harry smirked and turned to Sam. "I love getting his dander up. He was a jerk as a young man, and I see it hasn't changed much." Harry pulled out his phone and squinted at it again. "Now let me see if I can find Charlie's number. It's suppertime now, but I can see if I can get us an invite over to that apartment building so we can check out those alibis first thing tomorrow."

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Harry's phone pinged immediately after he hung up with Charlie Hobbs, causing him to shuffle and juggle the phone comically until he finally got it answered. It was his wife, Mabel, who demanded he come home. Harry left them with the threat that he'd be back the next morning. Jo guessed even an important ex-chief of police had to answer to someone.

  Kevin had already left, and Reese was packing up her desk. "Do you need me to stay and watch Lucy if you're going out for something to eat?" Jo asked.

  "I'm heading straight home, so I'll take her," Sam said.

  Reese hovered in the opening beside the post office boxes. "Do you need me to do anything else?"

  "No, take off," Sam said.

  Reese left, and now that they were alone in the station, Sam turned to Jo. "I know we've been busy with this investigation, but I was wondering if you found out any more about that deposit and Tyler's bank account."

  "Nothing. The deposit was cash, so it's not traceable," Jo said.

  "Kinda like how Mike had cash deposits," Sam said.

  "Yeah, but I don't think the two are related." Jo tapped the end of her pencil against her lip. "He didn't withdraw it, so we can't look at an ATM video. Maybe we could get the bank surveillance tapes, but I'm not sure what we'd learn from that."

  Sam sighed. "That would take a court order. We don't want anyone to know we're investigating."

  "Speaking of which, we need to be a little bit more careful."

  "Right. We don't want another slipup like we had with Kevin finding out we were at his bank. It's a catch twenty-two. If we don't pull our badges, no one will give us the information, and if we don't get the information, we may never find the box that the key unlocks."

  They both glanced toward Sam's office, where the key sat inside his drawer.

  "What if someone else knows about the key?" Jo said. "Maybe someone else is looking for that key. Might be smart to hide it somewhere."

  "Right. Now that we know about the cash deposit, we know he was up to something bigger than we thought before. In my drawer, though, I figure it's hidden in plain sight with all the other keys."

  Jo glanced at the empty desk sitting in the corner. Tyler's desk. She thought Tyler had been like her and Sam. That he'd do anything for justice. But, as she'd discovered early on in her life, you never really knew what secrets someone else was keeping. "You're probably right.”

  "In the meantime, I have Mick trying to see if he can figure out what was going on with Tyler," Sam said.

  "If anyone can figure it out, it'll be Mick," Jo said. "How is the interviewing going?"

  Sam made a face. "Honestly, I don't really feel great about any of them. We worked so well together with Tyler, it's hard to think about anyone filling his shoes." Sam shrugged, glancing at the desk. "But now with what we're finding out, maybe we don't want someone to exactly fill them."

  "What do you think about Kevin? He's been stepping it up lately, but then he acted kind of weird when he found out about that PO box. I don't know if he would get on board with what we're doing. Should we let him in?" Jo asked.

  Sam thought about that for a minute and then shook his head. "I don't know. I thought we could trust Tyler. I mean, we worked so closely with him, and look what we are finding out now. I don't get that same trust vibe from Kevin."

  Jo nodded slowly. She felt the same way but didn't know if it was just her suspicious nature. "Best to keep things between ourselves for now and to apply more caution."

  "Smart thinking."

  Jo stood and started to gather her things. "I'm on call until eight o'clock tonight, so I'm gonna grab something from the diner and head home. You gonna be okay?"

  "Yep. I'm heading home with Lucy. Gotta rest up. I'm sure Harry will be here first thing tomorrow morning." Sam rolled his eyes.

  Jo laughed. "Awww. Let the guy have his fun. Soon enough, he'll be back in Florida and out of your hair."

  "Sure. For now, I guess he does have his uses. He can get Charlie to talk to us and tell us the truth a lot better than we could on our own." Sam snapped his fingers, and Lucy trotted over to his side. "All right, I'm heading out. I'll have the CB band on in case something bad goes down. Remember I got your back."

  Jo's heart warmed. Even though she and Sam were just friends, there was no one else she would trust more to have her back. It meant even more to her now in light of what they were discovering about Tyler.

  "Thanks." Their eyes locked for a second, and something passed between them. Something she didn't understand. A deeper meaning to their friendship. Jo tore her eyes away. She was closer to Sam than she'd been to anyone in her adult life, but she couldn't handle their friendship being anything more than what it was now.

  She grabbed her stuff and headed for the door.

  Sam was on his second beer when the knock came on the screen door. Mick didn't bother waiting for an answer. He breezed in and helped himself to a beer from the fridge, just as he did every time he came to visit.

  "Seems empty without the girls here." Mick echoed Sam's thoughts. Mick was somewhat of a surrogate uncle to Sam's daughters. Som
etimes Sam wondered which one of them the girls liked better. Of course, Mick had gotten to do all the fun parts without having to discipline them.

  Mick squatted down to pat Lucy. "At least you got Lucy. You ever think about upgrading to something less hairy with two legs?"

  "Only for a night or two. I'm not into long-term relationships anymore. What about you?"

  Mick looked at him and winked and smiled the charming Mick Gervasi smile that had attracted all the girls during their younger years. Near as Sam could tell, it still worked, but Mick was a bit more selective now.

  "Anyway, I assume you didn't come here just to talk about women," Sam said as Mick paced around the small cabin, looking at the pictures of Sam's family. Several generations were represented on the walls and in silver and birch-edged frames around the cabin. Mick paused in front of one that showed a fishing trip to Canada, just over the border. One of the many fishing trips Sam's dad and grandfather had taken him and Mick on when they were little boys. "How are your folks?"

  Sam's folks were alive and doing well in Florida. They preferred the warmer climate to New England. Though sometimes they came back to visit in August--anything else was too cold for them. "Doing good. Dad's taking up golf. Mom's taking up painting."

  "Sounds like my folks. You think we'll ever end up like that?" Mick sat down at the table and flicked the metal top from his beer so it spun like a coin on its side.

  Sam made a face. "Nope."

  Mick leaned back casually, but his face was serious. "I've been digging into that twenty grand. I don't know what Tyler was onto. My only lead is still the grandson of the woman whose car was stolen. I know he's got something to do with this."

  Sam nodded. He felt the same. "It's just too much of a coincidence."

  "But I can't get a handle on it. One thing is weird, though--he seems to be acting a little itchy, and from what I hear on the street, one of his friends has been missing for a while."

  Sam's brow quirked up. "A while?"

  Mick shrugged. "Honestly, I'm not making much headway on that." He reached into his back pocket and took out a piece of paper that had been folded a few times. He spread it flat on the table. It was a photocopy of an old newspaper picture. The debate team from Harvard. Mick tapped on one of the faces.

  "Recognize this guy?"

  "Dupont."

  "And look who's here in this corner of the picture."

  Sam's chest tightened. "Brendan Wright."

  "Yep. Turns out Brendan and Dupont were on the debate team together back in college. None of the other guys involved in what happened to Gracie were on it. But this shows that Brendan knew Dupont, and even if it was just casually, I don't think it's any coincidence that Dupont is now putting the screws to you about what happened."

  "No such thing as coincidences." Sam's mouth tightened into a grim line. "Do you think he told Dupont something about what happened that night? The night we went down to persuade Todd to tell the truth? Why would he?"

  "It's gotta be something like that. You know Dupont--he's always trying to get something that he can use to his advantage later on. He knew we were poking around in Gracie's case--maybe he had something on Brendan or promised him something for information."

  Sam leaned back in his chair. "That is how he operates. Maybe he pulled some strings on their jail sentence. He was connected even back then."

  "Right. But why would he wait twenty years to bring it up?" Mick asked.

  "Maybe he was waiting for the right time. The whole time, he knew I was studying criminology. He knew I wanted to be chief of police here, and you know that even back then he was angling for a high political position either here in town or in the state Senate. I have been leaning on him about Thorne, so maybe he feels like now is the time to try to shut me up."

  "He might look stupid, but he's pretty smart when it comes to saving his own skin," Mick said.

  "Yeah, that's true, but it's a far cry from knowing something about someone and having evidence on someone. I doubt he'd have any actual evidence on us," Sam said.

  Mick didn't look so convinced. "You know what they say--evidence can easily be fabricated. Maybe looking into this whole business with Tyler isn't such a smart idea. If Tyler was into something illegal and you get in the middle of it, it could implicate you somehow. If it has something to do with Dupont and Thorne, they could twist around anything you are doing to make it look like you are the one that is guilty. And with the way Dupont's acting, if I were you, I'd make sure I keep my nose clean from here on out."

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Harry appeared at the police station the next morning with coffee and donuts for everyone. Reese gave Sam a look over Harry's shoulder as if to say, "See, he is a good guy." Sam just shook his head. Reese had a lot to learn.

  Sam and Jo grabbed a coffee and hopped into the Tahoe with Harry and Lucy in back. Jo scarfed a jelly donut on the way, dropping a red blob on her shirt.

  Charlie Hobbs was almost the exact opposite of Harry Woolston. Where Harry was tall and thin and gangly, Charlie was short and fat. The two men greeted each other with a slap on the back.

  "I see the new police still need help from us old-timers, eh?" Charlie smiled at Harry and side-eyed Sam as if he wasn't sure he could trust him. "You won't find much better than Harry when it comes investigating."

  Sam played along. "You don't say."

  "I don't know how we ever solved any cases without him," Jo said dryly as she dabbed at the blob of jelly that now stained her light-blue button-down shirt. The dabbing only smeared it and made the stain bigger.

  Lucy wagged her tail, sidling up against Harry. She'd taken a liking to him as they'd driven over together in the backseat of the Tahoe. Jo suspected Harry had been feeding her something from his pocket.

  Charlie looked at Lucy. "I hope you're not going to do any of that search-and-seizure type stuff. I know those dogs can smell drugs. But I assure you there's none of that going on in my building."

  They glanced at the building. It was a two-story brick construction that had six apartments in it. It was on one of the busier streets that housed mostly commercial businesses and old Victorians converted into apartment buildings and sat across from a big pharmacy.

  Jo figured if Brian was living there, he probably didn't have very much money. For a guy in his thirties, she thought he would've been doing better. She'd gotten the impression when they were at the Donnellys' house that he was hiding something. Maybe he'd just been embarrassed about his circumstances.

  Whatever the case, Brian clearly needed money. His mother wouldn't be around for very long, but Mike had been in pretty good shape. Would Brian kill him so he could inherit his share of the estate? Thorne had mentioned one of the kids was champing at the bit to sell the farm. Had Brian been negotiating with Thorne on the side? And if so, maybe Mike's death had nothing at all to do with Tommy.

  "So what do you need to know, Harry?" Charlie asked.

  Harry looked at Sam.

  Sam said, "We have a question about Brian Donnelly. We heard he lives here."

  Charlie nodded and pointed to a window on the second floor. "Yep, right in Apartment 2b. I hope he's not in any trouble. He's a quiet lad."

  "Don't know yet. We're trying to find out if he was here on Monday night, say around seven p.m.," Sam said. "Would you happen to know?"

  "Of course I would," Charlie said. "I make it my business to know the comings and goings in my building. I run a clean shop here, and I need to keep tabs on things so they don't get out of hand. You know how young people are. They need constant supervision."

  Harry nodded solemnly.

  Charlie screwed up his face. "Monday night, you say. Yes, I remember that quite well because there was quite a ruckus going on up there."

  "So he was home?" Jo asked.

  Charlie shook his head. "No. That's the thing. He wasn't home. That was the problem--someone was knocking on his door and ringing the bell over and over, making a big racket for about ten
minutes, but by the time I got up there to tell them he wasn't home, they had left."

  "How did you know he wasn't home?"

  "I'd seen him riding off on his bicycle about an hour before, and he didn't come back until after eight p.m."

  "What time was this person knocking on his door?"

  Charlie thought for a minute. "I'd say it must've been about six p.m. Wheel of Fortune was gonna be on in an hour, and I was getting my TV dinner ready so I could watch it. You know, I like the Salisbury steak--you know, the one with the corn and the little brownies."

  Sam nodded. That was one of his favorites too. "And you're sure this was Monday night?"

  "Oh sure, my memory's as good as gold." Charlie looked at Harry as if for confirmation, and Harry nodded.

  "Charlie can still keep track of cards at poker night like nobody's business. And when we go to Vegas, well, you should see what happens. We come back with a lot of money."

  Charlie smiled. Then the smile faltered, and he looked at Sam. "Not that I count cards or anything. That's illegal."

  "Nothing illegal about having a good memory. And you're sure he didn't come back until eight p.m.?"

  "Of course I'm sure. Didn't I say that?" Charlie seemed as if he was getting a little miffed.

  "Do you know who was at his door?" Jo asked.

  "That, I don't know. I didn't get up there right away because I was busy with my dinner. At first, I figured they'd go away when no one answered. But after a few minutes, I started up, but I was too late. They must have gone down the other stairway in back. I didn't see them, but whoever it was was knocking and ringing the bell as if they really wanted to get in and talk to him."

  "And he was gone the whole time between six and eight?" Harry asked.

  "Yes, sir, Chief--I mean ex-Chief," Charlie said.

  Harry looked at Sam. "Well, there you go. That settles it. Sounds like we better talk to Brian, because right now he's at the top of my suspect list--he had means, motive, and opportunity."