by L A Dobbs
Bev held up a hand. “Yes. I’m on that. But I’m going to use Kevin and Wyatt while you, Jo, and I go over Tyler’s case.”
Sam frowned, but Jo figured he knew better than to argue with Bev; arguing might make her suspicious. “Okay.”
Jo sat at her desk, her gaze flicking from Sam to Bev, watching the conversation and trying not to open her big mouth lest she say something incriminating.
Bev looked at Kevin. “Kevin, you go to the medical examiner’s office and wait for that autopsy report. Hurry him along. He’s supposed to fax it here, but I know he works faster when someone’s there, putting the pressure on.” She turned to Wyatt and handed him a yellow sticky note. “Wyatt, you go down and talk to Bobby Sampson. He’s in charge of the scene where they found the body. Tell him that you want all the photos of the crime scene. Maybe we can see something that jogs a memory that links it to the Dupont killing.”
Kevin and Wyatt cast questioning glances at Sam.
Sam nodded, and they left.
“I guess we don’t need that search warrant after all,” Sam said.
“That’s good ’cause it got rejected,” Reese said before turning to go back to the lobby. “I’ll be at my desk if you guys need me to look anything up.”
“Okay. I want to look at everything you have from Tyler’s case,” Bev said.
“The state police took over the case early on, so we don’t have much,” Sam said.
“Don’t give me that crap. Any good cop would investigate a fallen officer’s death on the side. And I think you’re a good cop, Sam. I’m trusting you because your grandpa was a good man and helped my mom out, so I kind of owe you one.” Bev crossed her arms over her chest and looked at Sam hard for a few seconds before adding, “Don’t make me regret it.”
“What do you think that was all about?” Wyatt asked as he and Kevin jogged down the front steps of the police station.
Kevin glanced over at him. The question had a suspicious undertone that Kevin didn’t like. In fact, Kevin was starting to not like Wyatt at all. There was something predatory about him, as though he were watching and waiting for something to go down so he could pounce. What that was, Kevin had no idea.
Maybe it was Kevin’s own guilt that was making him suspicious. He really had no right to suspect Wyatt. The guy hadn’t done anything wrong, at least not that Kevin knew about.
Kevin shrugged, acting casual. “You know how the higher-ups are. They probably wanted to strategize or something. Let us do the grunt work.”
Wyatt glanced back at the station. “Huh. Seems kind of like important grunt work. But I’m happy to be doing it.”
Kevin stopped at the Crown Vic, and Wyatt hesitated then looked toward the small parking lot beside the building.
“I’ll take my car. It’s good on gas,” Wyatt offered.
Kevin opened the door of the Crown Vic. Damn straight he’d take his personal vehicle. Kevin didn’t like that Wyatt was insinuating that maybe it would be his place to take the Crown Vic. Kevin had been there longer; he should drive it. But Kevin didn’t want to say any of that out loud. There was no sense starting something with the guy. And ultimately, it was up to Sam who drove the car, so he simply said, “Okay. See you later.”
Kevin watched Wyatt trot off and then slid into the car, the soft seats and smell of sunbaked leather surrounding him as he started the engine.
He really should give Wyatt a break. As near as he could tell, Wyatt was only trying to be helpful. The weird vibe he picked up was probably just because Wyatt was new and trying to fit in. Kevin was out of sorts with of all the strange things about this case—and his own secrets were grating on him.
Kevin had a bad feeling about what Bev Hatch might find when they looked into Tyler’s case. He’d suspected Tyler was up to something before he was even killed. Of course, back then, he’d thought Tyler was doing something against the law, that his contact worked in law enforcement and was trying to get evidence on him.
Now Kevin wasn’t so sure. He was sure that his contact worked for Thorne. His contact had wanted Kevin to search Tyler’s belongings for electronic data, so it stood to reason that Tyler was one of the good guys. He was working against Thorne. Or was he working with him, and Thorne wanted to make sure he didn’t turn on him? Maybe Thorne had been looking for leverage.
Kevin’s thoughts turned to the thumb drive tucked away in his kitchen. If Bev found something that got Sam and Jo into trouble, Kevin would hand the drive over to Sam. There could be something on it that got Sam and Jo out of trouble—or there could be something that got them in deeper. Either way, Sam could do what he wanted with it. But he would only turn the drive over if it was necessary. He didn’t want Sam to know he’d betrayed them by taking the drive in the first place.
He waved to Wyatt as he drove past, the funny feeling coming over him again. Earlier that morning, before anyone else had come in, Wyatt had mentioned that he’d seen Sam talking to a guy standing next to a black SUV with a roof rack similar to the vehicle Rita had said she’d seen driving away from the mill. By the description of the man and the fact that Wyatt had seen them outside Holy Spirits, Kevin figured it was Mick Gervasi, Sam’s best friend. Kevin seemed to recall that Mick drove a black SUV.
Had Mick been at Reed’s Ferry Mill the night Dupont was killed? It was possible. Kevin knew that Sam used Mick for some of his investigations. But what did it matter? If Mick was there, Kevin figured Sam had good reason.
He’d brushed off Wyatt’s question by pointing out there were thousands of black SUVs. Maybe he could do something more to deflect suspicion. He’d have to think on that. What if the SUV really belonged to someone else and it was a good lead? He wouldn’t want to try to cover that up. But no, he was sure that it was Mick, because if Sam didn’t already know who it was, he would have jumped on the lead a little harder.
Kevin knew that Sam and Jo kept some secrets about that crime scene. The lawn-mowing neighbor had said Jo had been there earlier in the afternoon, but Sam and Jo never put that in the report. Sure, it was a minor thing and even understandable that Jo might come to scout things out earlier, but the fact that they never mentioned it made Kevin think there might be more going on.
Kevin didn’t care. Guilt over what he’d previously done made him more determined to make sure that Sam and Jo came out on the clean end of this and that Thorne went away for good. And not only because his own life was in jeopardy if he continued to feed fake information to his contact, but because it was the right thing to do.
Kevin drove off, his plan firmly in place. He’d keep an eye on Wyatt. And he still had his ace in the hole—the glove. He just hoped that by using it, he wouldn’t be signing his own death warrant.
Chapter Fourteen
Sam walked Bev through everything they had on Tyler’s case. Well, at least, everything he wanted her to know. He didn’t want to let on too much of what they’d been investigating on the side, and he certainly wasn’t going to tell her about the DNA test or the mysterious key.
The whole time they reviewed the case with Bev, Jo had acted odd. She was quieter than usual, tapping her pencil on her notepad faster than usual. She’d scarfed down two of the jelly doughnuts that Bev had brought, and Sam got the impression she was bursting to tell him something.
“So that’s it?” Bev asked. “Not much to go on.”
“We didn’t have much time to investigate,” Sam said. “With Tyler gone, we were short-handed, and another murder happened right away. Actually, there have been a couple of murders to investigate, so …” Sam shrugged and let his sentence trail off.
“And you found his log in his car, denoting that he was stopping to help a car in distress?” Bev pointed to the log, and Sam’s heart hitched. Would she notice the difference in writing Jo had entered for Tyler?
“Yeah. Looks like that last entry was made quickly.” Sam paused and tilted his head to look at the log. “I don’t know if maybe he suspected something at that stop, and that�
��s why he scribbled in just the bare minimum.”
“But he never called in anything suspicious,” Bev said.
“We don’t have a dispatcher that time of night. He could have called me if he needed backup.”
Bev nodded. “Guess he didn’t think he needed it.”
Sam rubbed his chin. “Truth is, I feel responsible for what happened to Tyler. It happened under my watch. Maybe I should have been the one out there that night.”
“Nah. You can’t feel that way, Sam,” Bev said. “It’s part of the job. It’s what we sign on for. Tyler knew that.”
Bev’s phone dinged. She pulled it from her back pocket and looked at the display. “Okay. Gotta run. I’ll let you know if anything else comes up. We’ll meet back here in a few hours to see what Kevin and Wyatt found out.”
“Okay,” Sam said.
Sam waited for the lobby door to close and then turned to Jo. “Okay, what is it? I know you’ve been dying to tell me something.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t sure if I should say it in front of Bev, but I think I have a good lead.” Jo rushed to her desk and opened her computer. “I’ve been going over Tyler’s arrest, and I think I’m on to something here.”
She turned the display toward Sam, and he bent closer.
“Check out this guy. Forest Duncan. It looks like Tyler went on a few calls associated with his name, but he never brought him in.”
Sam was dubious. “That doesn’t necessarily mean anything. But I guess it’s something. What kind of calls? Was he the one calling in or the one being called on?”
“He was the one doing something wrong. Minor stuff, though, so stands to reason he wouldn’t be arrested. But wait until you see this.” Jo turned the computer back toward her, typed something in, and then angled the display back toward Sam. “Guess what Forest Duncan does for a living.”
Sam leaned closer. Duncan worked for the sanitation department. He was the garbageman.
“The garbageman,” Sam said. “I thought the name looked familiar. That would give him an excuse to drive all around town and stop at houses, just as Jesse said.”
“Remember how Lucy was sniffing the garbage cans at Scott Elliott’s house? Maybe she smelled something from the crime scene or a connection between Elliott and Duncan.” Jo leaned back in her chair. “But I suppose we can’t tell Bev that we’re talking to a lead based on Lucy smelling garbage.”
“Maybe not, but Bev actually gave us the perfect reason to find this lead.”
“She did?”
Sam nodded. “By her request to look deeper into Tyler’s case, we now have a reason to research the calls he went on. And as such, we noticed the name Forest Duncan came up a few times and remembered he was a municipal employee.”
“Combined with what Jesse told us about Thorne’s distributor being a government employee whose job allowed him to be all around town and at various houses, I’d say that’s a good reason to question him.”
Sam pulled the keys to the Tahoe from his pocket. “Exactly. And I can’t think of a better time to do that than right now.”
Chapter Fifteen
Forest Duncan lived in a duplex clad in dirt-smudged aluminum siding on the outskirts of town. It was late afternoon when Jo and Sam arrived. Sam knew the garbage was collected early in the morning, so he figured Forest would be home. The rusted-out red Hyundai in the driveway told him he’d figured right.
Jo looked at the house skeptically. “This doesn’t look like the type of place one of Thorne’s distributors would live in. Wouldn’t they be able to afford something better than this?”
“Maybe it’s a front. It would seem pretty suspicious if the town garbageman lived in a mansion.”
“Good point. He might spend his money on expensive toys and interior upgrades.” Jo got out of the passenger side and let Lucy out of the back, and they all walked to the front door.
A short, pudgy guy in his midthirties with large, round black-framed glasses that magnified his blue eyes to comical proportions answered the knock. His eyes widened nervously when they fell on Lucy and enlarged even further when Sam and Jo showed their badges.
“Can I help you?” He cracked the door only a few inches. Sam wondered if he’d refuse to talk to them and slam the door in their faces.
“We just have a few questions,” Sam said.
“About what?”
Sam craned his neck to look inside. The living room was furnished with yard sale furniture in vintage 1970s plaid. A cheap particleboard coffee table covered in dings and with chipped corners sat in front of the couch. There was a decent-sized TV on the wall. If Forest Duncan had a lot of money, he sure wasn’t spending it on his décor. Maybe he was socking it away for retirement. Sam made a mental note to check into his finances.
“The mayor’s murder,” Jo piped in. Sam noticed her eyes trained on Forest. She was studying his reaction to her words. That was what Jo did best. She had a degree in criminal psychology and was always looking for some sort of tell or sign people were lying. She was good at that sort of thing. Sam, not so much. He was better at putting together the physical evidence. But together, they made a pretty tight team.
Forest backed up a step, pulling the door tighter. “I don’t know anything about a murder.”
“You’re not a suspect. We just think you might have seen something because of your job with the sanitation department.” Sam’s assurance seemed to work. Duncan’s shoulders relaxed, and he opened the door wider.
“Can we come in?” Sam asked.
Duncan thought for a few seconds and then nodded, glancing at Lucy. “The dog too? I don’t much like dogs.”
“She’s harmless,” Jo said. As if to reassure him, Lucy cocked her head to the side and gave a friendly whine.
“Okay. I guess so.” Duncan opened the door wider, and they entered.
Duncan shuffled backward to give Lucy a wide berth as the three of them spilled into the living room. The place was small. A gold-shag-carpeted living room opened to a kitchen, where dirty dishes mounded in the sink. It smelled like macaroni and cheese and hot dogs.
Lucy must have approved of the odor, considering the way her nose twitched high in the air. Sam scanned the dishes on the counter, and something caught his eye. A navy-blue coffee mug with large white letters. From the way the mug was turned, he could only make out two of the letters, a W and an R.
“I think you knew Officer Richardson, didn’t you?” Sam asked.
Forest blinked his owlish eyes and looked down at the floor. “Richardson? Maybe. I know a few officers because of my job. Was he the one who got killed?”
“Yes.” Sam glanced at Jo, who raised her left brow a barely noticeable amount.
“Sorry about that.” Forest looked back up at him. “So is that what you came to ask?”
“No. I just thought you were friends, for some reason.”
Forest shrugged and stared blankly at Sam.
“So, back to the business at hand. Were you working the day of the mayor’s murder?” Sam asked.
“Yeah. I work every day except Monday and Tuesday,” Duncan answered Sam, but his eyes were fixed on Lucy, who sniffed around the coffee table.
“Your route takes you past Reed’s Ferry Mill, right?” Jo asked.
“Well, I don’t actually go to the mill. There’s no one living there, so no garbage.” Forest was distracted by Lucy, who had trotted into the kitchen and was sniffing in the direction of the counter. “What is she doing?”
“Nothing.” Jo snapped her fingers. “Lucy, heel!”
Lucy obediently came to Jo’s side, and Forest focused his attention back on Sam.
“But your truck was seen on the dirt road near the mill that day,” Sam said. He wasn’t actually sure if the truck was seen there that day. Rita had only said she saw it there sometimes. But he figured it might rile Forest up a bit to tell him that someone had seen him at the murder scene.
But Forest didn’t seem riled. He seemed thoughtful. “Okay, I
do cut through there. Otherwise, I’d have to go all the way back out Bartlett Street and then onto Cherryvale and then to Forester. I’d have to backtrack the streets I’d already been on. I figure I’m saving the town gas money to cut through that road.”
“We do appreciate that,” Sam said.
“Besides, the day the mayor was killed, my route was on the other side of town. I do different sections each day so that everyone gets pickup once a week. And wasn’t he killed at night, anyway?”
“Yep, ’round suppertime,” Sam said.
“Well, then I wouldn’t have seen anything because my route ends at two p.m. So by suppertime, I’m at home, playing video games.” Forest gestured toward the TV, where Sam saw a video game in pause mode. “So I wouldn’t have been anywhere near the mill when the mayor was killed.”
Sam exchanged a glance with Jo. He couldn’t sense if Forest was lying or not. The guy seemed the type to get nervous if he was guilty, but if he was one of Thorne’s distributors, he might be good at acting.
What Forest had told them made sense, though. Sam was going to have to do his due diligence and check it out. In the meantime, they had no reason to pull him in. “Okay, well, thank you. If you do think of anything or hear anything, would you please let us know?”
Forest nodded. “Of course.”
Jo and Sam said goodbye and headed back to the Tahoe.
“So what do you think about that?” Sam asked as he pulled out of the driveway.
“He seemed nervous at first and when you asked about Tyler, but when I asked about Dupont’s murder, he didn’t appear unduly shocked. I didn’t see any of the usual tells,” Jo said. “But he could be an accomplished liar. I think we need to keep investigating.”
“Me too. I have a funny feeling that Forest Duncan is involved. I’m pretty sure he was lying. And he knew Tyler better than he lets on,” Sam said.
Jo glanced over. “Why’s that?”
“He had a White Rock Police Department mug on his counter. Now where do you think he got that if he wasn’t in cahoots with someone in the department?”
