by L A Dobbs
"It’s from Harry." Sam flipped the card to her, and she smiled. Harry Woolston was the former chief of police. Harry had held the job for what seemed like a hundred years. He hadn’t wanted to retire, but age had forced him out. Now he was down in Florida and bored out of his mind.
The two months he came back in the summer, he usually spent pestering Sam for information on the various cases they were working. Though Sam had to admit his advice did come in handy sometimes. Harry was more old school than Sam and didn’t believe in any of the newfangled methods of forensics. He refused to use a computer, and Sam didn’t even know if he knew how.
Jo set the card aside. "I guess we better get back over to the campsite. Let them know we’re dealing with a murder."
Sam figured rumor might have already gotten around to them, but he knew Jo wanted to watch them as he gave them the news. Maybe one of them would have some kind of a nervous tic or something that would give them away. Sam wished it would be so easy, but he knew it wouldn’t.
"Yep. Kevin can take pictures. The ones I took yesterday are just on my phone. We need something better." Sam held up his phone. "And we can compare what Kevin takes to what I took to see if anybody moved anything."
"And we can find out why they lied about Jesse." Jo drained her mug.
"Maybe Jesse was the one that was lying."
"Good point. He was acting kinda cagey. He has a tic in his shoulder that gives him away. And he was scratching a bug bite, so I know he was in the woods. But I think he would’ve been more nervous if he was the killer. He seemed genuinely surprised about the murder, even if he is hiding something."
The door opened, and Kevin sauntered toward the coffee pot. "Hi, guys."
"Hey, Kevin. We’re headed back to the campground today."
Kevin turned while his mug was filling. "Whole different line of questioning when you know it’s a murder, right?"
"I was hoping you could take more pictures of the area where we found the clothes after you left yesterday. We think that might be the murder site." Sam saw Reese waving around some paperwork at her desk. "Oh, and I need you to head over to Nettie Deardorff’s. She’s complaining about Rita Hoelscher’s goat again."
Kevin rolled his eyes. "Sure. Okay."
"I was wondering if you wanted to log a few extra hours. With this murder investigation and us being shorthanded…" Sam’s voice trailed off, and everyone looked in the direction of Tyler’s empty desk.
"I can put in a few extra, I suppose." Kevin turned back toward them, and something dark flashed in his narrowed eyes. "Is there anything new about the investigation?"
"We’re not supposed to be investigating it," Jo said.
"Yeah, I know. But you guys are investigating it, aren’t you?" Kevin’s voice rose at the end. "I mean, we want to find out what happened to him, don’t we?"
Sam glanced at Jo. Since Kevin was part time, they didn’t work as closely together. Kevin was a good cop, but he didn’t feel a connection with him like he had with Jo and Tyler. But Kevin was part of the team, and his help might come in handy. Jo nodded slightly.
"I’ve had Mick looking into a few things," Sam said. "The only lead we have is the stolen car. And so far we have no leads as to who took it."
"And the fingerprint we found on the ashtray," Jo added. "We ran it through AFIS, but nothing came up. Whoever it is isn’t in the system."
Kevin made a face. "Weird that the staties’ investigation hasn’t turned anything up. I mean, why was he out there? Why hadn’t he pulled his gun? What did his log say?"
Jo cleared her throat. "Well, he didn’t exactly put it in the log."
Kevin’s brows shot up. "What do you mean? We’re supposed to either call things in or log them in our notebook. And since it was after midnight and there was no one to call it in to…"
"Right. He should have written the stop in his notebook. But you know how it is when you’re out there alone. He probably saw the car and was pulling over to help. I’m sure he didn’t think it was going to be any police business," Jo said. "Probably figured he’d change the tire and send the motorist on his way."
"It’s still supposed to be logged. Wouldn’t that have been a red flag for the staties?" Kevin asked.
"Yeah, well, they didn’t exactly know that he didn’t log it." Jo took a deep breath. "I wrote the stop in his notebook the next day after he died."
"You what?" Kevin’s voice rose. "If Dupont finds out, he’ll have a field day with that."
Jo held up her palms. "I know. But I didn’t want anything to tarnish Tyler’s reputation. If they saw he didn’t go strictly by the book, they might’ve tried to make it into something it wasn’t." She shook her head at Kevin’s incredulous look. "Come on. We all know that Tyler was a good guy. He was probably just trying to help, and you know none of us go one-hundred-percent by the book in writing this stuff down. We all do it at the end of the shift. I just did it for him because he couldn’t do it for himself anymore."
The three of them stared at each other while Kevin thought about it. Sam started to get nervous. Would Kevin tell Dupont?
After a few seconds, Kevin sighed. "Yeah, I suppose you’re right." He slipped the rubber lid onto his travel mug and grabbed the digital camera off his desk. "You guys ready?"
Chapter Ten
The campers had told Sam the day before that they planned to extend their stay at the campground. They wanted to stick around until they knew exactly what had happened to Lynn. He reckoned at least some of them were going to be surprised by the news that Lynn’s death had not been accidental. But was there one that wouldn’t be?
When they arrived, Kevin headed straight to the spot where they’d found Lynn’s clothes. Jo and Sam descended on the campsite.
The smell of bacon permeated the air, reminding Sam of dozens of camping trips he himself had enjoyed. At the picnic table, Noah was manning the Coleman stove. A pile of crisp bacon was stacked beside him on grease-soaked-paper-towel-lined plates.
A fire crackled inside the ring of rocks. A thick metal grate covered the fire, and on top of that, a cast-iron skillet held fluffy yellow eggs. Lawn chairs sat haphazardly around the site. Bottles of vodka, rum, and Jack Daniels were lined up next to a stack of sixteen-ounce red plastic Solo cups on top of a large blue cooler.
The campers were busy either cooking or tidying up the site. Julie was folding colorful towels. Derek collected kindling, twigs snapping under his hiking boots as he scoured the woods at the edge of the site. Up in the trees, a squirrel chittered. Birds twittered. Beyond the campsite, the river rolled past.
A mosquito buzzed Sam, and he waited patiently for it to land on his arm. When it did, he smacked it flat, leaving only a smudge of brown and a dot of blood as evidence.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to Jo and Sam. Their somber faces reflected a mixture of hope and fear.
Noah stepped forward, the large fork still in his hand. "Any news?"
Sam nodded slowly. "Afraid it’s not good. Lynn didn’t slip and fall. She was murdered, and then her body was put in the river."
"Murdered?" Joshua’s eyes widened.
The looks of shock on their faces seemed genuine. The women started crying.
Noah scrubbed his hands across his face. "I don’t understand. Who would kill Lynn?" He looked around at his group of friends. No one had an answer.
"That’s what we need to find out," Sam said. "Did she have any jealous boyfriends? Any enemies?"
Julie stepped up. "We’re her closest friends. I don’t know of anyone that would want to harm Lynn." She looked at the others, her face falling. "Do you guys?"
They shook their heads.
"What about that guy from the bar?" Tara said. "We don’t know anything about him. He could be a killer."
"We talked to him last night," Jo said. She had her polarized Oakley Standard Issue sunglasses on and her hair stuffed under a navy-blue cap with WRPD stamped in white letters on the front. "He denied even
being here."
"He’s lying." Noah’s voice rose in anger. "He was here. And the people from the other campsite were here, too. It could have been one of them. It couldn’t be anyone that knew her."
"We’ll look into it. But I want you guys to think hard if you know of any reason that someone would want to harm her. Was anyone angry with her?" Sam’s gaze drifted around the group. "Maybe someone close to her that had a grudge?"
Derek’s hands curled into fists, and he moved closer to Sam. "Now wait a minute. Are you saying it was one of us?"
Josh stepped in next to him. "Why aren’t you looking into that guy from the bar instead of accusing us? Is it because he’s a local?"
Sam held up his hands, his voice gentle. "We’re looking into everyone. I’m not accusing any of you, but since you knew her best, you’d be the ones to know if anyone might have had a reason to want her out of the way."
That seemed to mollify them, and both Josh and Derek relaxed their stance.
"In the meantime, we’re going to need to take her things," Sam said. "There could be a clue in there."
Everyone glanced toward the red tent, frozen on their spot, then finally Julie broke from the group. "I’ll break things down for you."
Jo already had the latex gloves on. "I’ll do it. It’s important that we don’t contaminate it."
Julie’s eyes filled, and her lower lip quivered. She nodded and stepped back while Jo got to work.
Twenty minutes later, they were in the Tahoe with Julie’s tent and her duffel bag full of clothes. A few miles down the road, Sam saw the giant coffee cup of the Brewed Awakening coffee shop. The K-Cup coffee at the station was okay, but there was nothing better than a fresh brew from Brewed Awakening.
"Coffee?" Sam asked.
Jo made a face. "You have to ask?"
He signaled for the right turn, and just before he started to turn in, a candy-apple-red Cadillac swooped in front of him, cutting them off and making Sam slam on the brakes. Sam laid on the horn, but the man in the car simply turned an arrogant face to them, smiled, and waved.
"Thorne." Jo spat out the name.
As Sam drove forward toward the drive-through, Jo twisted in her seat, looking over her sunglasses at Thorne as he parked, taking up two spots. Thorne got out of the car. He was in his late forties, still in good shape but with a bit of thickening around his middle. His hair was dyed black, and he walked with the self-important air of someone who is used to getting his way.
"He looks so smug. We should arrest him for driving to endanger." Jo turned to face forward and pushed the sunglasses back up on her nose.
"Be more trouble than it’s worth."
They ordered coffees in Styrofoam cups, and Jo bought her usual half-dozen jelly donuts. Sam had no idea where she put all the donuts she ate. Even with her bulky police belt, she was trim. He could never eat that many donuts. Since he’d turned forty, he’d noticed his pants fitting a little tighter. The only solution was to cut down on food and beer. Jo hadn’t seemed to cut down any since he’d known her. She wasn’t much younger, but maybe she had a fast metabolism. Some people were just lucky that way.
"So, what do you think about the friends?" Jo fished a jelly donut out of the bag. "Do you think it could be one of them?"
"I don’t know. They seemed genuinely surprised. I’ll have Reese check into their backgrounds, but there doesn’t seem to be any connection. And this murder was definitely done by someone who had a connection. What do you think?"
"I’m not so sure. They seemed nervous, like they were hiding something. Too quick to try to blame someone else."
"Natural reaction. No one wants to think their friends are capable of murder."
Jo bit into the donut, and a blob of jelly squirted onto her finger. She licked it off. "What about Jesse? I saw him scratching a bug bite last night. He probably was at the campground even though he said no. Which means he lied. I mean, I know he’s not a pillar of society, but murder?"
"He could have gotten a bug bite anywhere." White Rock was loaded with wilderness, and the bugs could be persistent even in the middle of town. "I know what you mean, though. Seems like Lynn’s friends would be pretty dumb to lie about Jesse being there. Too easy to prove them wrong. And most of them agreed he was there, so unless they were all in on it, I think it’s a good bet he was there. But why would Jesse lie?"
Finished with the donut, Jo flipped the plastic tab on her lid and sipped the coffee. "Who knows with him. Probably didn’t want to get into trouble and denied it as his first reaction. Maybe he isn’t smart enough to figure out we’d catch him. Unless there is more going on with him that we don’t know about."
"I guess I’ll be paying him a visit," Sam said. "In the meantime, we need to find out more about Lynn’s finances. I know the company isn’t doing well, but she has a stake in it. That stake might be worth something after this new game is released. Which makes me wonder exactly who would benefit from that in the event of her death."
Chapter Eleven
Sam dropped Jo at the station and headed to Riddell’s Auto Body, where Jesse worked, finishing off his coffee on the way. His stomach growled. Maybe he should have grabbed one of those jelly donuts.
He parked in the dirt lot and casually walked into the shop.
The waiting room was open to the service area, and he could hear the clank of metal tools and smell the grease and engine oil. Three people sat in the waiting room, bored looks on their faces as they stared at the syndicated talk show that played on the TV in the corner. Jesse was in bay number three, working on securing the lug nuts of a tire.
He looked up as Sam approached, a frown creasing his forehead. He stood. His navy-blue coveralls were smeared with grease, and judging by the look on his face, Sam knew he’d guessed he wasn’t there for an oil change.
"Hey, man, I’m at work here." Jesse glanced around nervously.
Sam had picked his workplace on purpose, knowing Jesse wouldn’t be able to walk away from him. Not only that, but Sam was friends with the owner. He glanced over at the fat, balding man. "Hey, Al, you mind if I have a word with Jesse?"
Al’s dark eyes were expressionless as he shook his head.
Sam jerked his head toward the back door, and Jesse wiped his hands on the front of his coveralls, adding a new grease smear in the process.
The landscaping in back of the shop consisted of a patch of dry dirt ringed with weeds. Jesse leaned against the thickly painted off-white cinderblock wall and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He was trying to act casual, but Sam could see he was nervous.
"If this is about that camping girl, I didn’t have anything to do with it. I told you I wasn’t there," Jesse said.
"Really? I’ve got half the campground that says you were."
Jesse looked down and dug at the dirt with the toe of a scuffed black work boot. "I wasn’t at their campsite."
So he had been lying. Sam had a good idea why. He knew a lot about what went on in town. He didn’t always act on what he knew, which made some people assume that he wasn’t clued in. Sam didn’t mind that at all. In fact, he preferred it when people underestimated him. It made them act sloppy, and when people acted sloppy, they made mistakes. Sam knew that Jesse had recently started dealing pot, and his guess was that was what he had been doing at the campground.
Sam figured Jesse had lied because he didn’t want to get caught selling pot. It was still illegal in New Hampshire. But Sam couldn’t give a crap about that—next to catching a murderer, nailing someone for selling pot was way down on his list.
Sam thought about his suspicions that Thorne was the reason for the uptick in drugs in the area. Not just pot—it was much worse. Meth, heroin, cocaine. One minor pot dealer was nothing compared to catching the guy at the top of the chain. Much better to keep on friendly terms with Jesse. That alliance might come in handy later.
Sam leaned against the wall close to Jesse. He was taller by about five inches and used the intimidating size differe
nce to his advantage. "But you were at the campground. And rumor has it you were doing a little business there."
Jesse’s eyes darted around like a scared rabbit’s, looking anywhere but Sam’s face. "Look, I don’t want to get in trouble. I don’t know anything about that girl."
"Jesse, do you know what the sentence is for selling marijuana?"
Jesse’s shoulders slumped, and all the wind whooshed out of him. Turned out he wasn’t as tough as he liked to pretend. He caved easily. "I don’t normally sell it. It’s not like I’m a big dealer or anything. I just needed some extra money."
"Where’d you get it?"
"I don’t know."
Sam lowered his voice and spoke slowly and steadily. He looked him dead in the eye. "You don’t know? I’m not buying that, Jesse, and neither will the judge."
Sam paused for a few seconds to let his words sink in then added, "But I might be willing to make you a deal if you tell me the truth about what happened last night."
Jesse looked suspicious. "What kind of deal?"
"I won’t breathe a word about your illegal extracurricular activities. In fact, unless you have any on you right now, I’m going to forget all about it."
Jesse spread his hands. Not so tough now. "I don’t have any on me. I swear."
Sam simply waited.
"Okay. I was there last night. I’d seen her in the bar. She was cute. And we struck up a conversation. I met her friends, and I mentioned I had some weed, and they invited me back after the bar closed. But all we did was drink and smoke a few joints, and then I left. I swear she was alive when I left."
"Can anyone verify this?" Sam asked.
"Well, yeah, all the people at the campsite. I only stayed for about an hour and then went home."
"You didn’t go anywhere else or see anyone?"
Jesse thought a minute. "I stopped to get gas at Cumbies then went straight home. Brian, my roommate, was already in bed."
"When you were at the campsite, did you see anything unusual? Was anybody angry with Lynn, or did anyone act funny around her?"
