by L A Dobbs
“No, but it’s a pretty big coincidence he fit Tyler’s description. And he was from up north.”
“What do you think he’d be doing here at the vending machines?” Sam asked. “And do you really think Bartles was telling us the truth?”
Jo nodded. “I didn’t see any indication he was lying. He seemed too scared. And besides, it was pretty clear he’s small time. He wouldn’t have any reason to lie because he wasn’t into anything too big.”
Sam had thought the same, but it was nice to know Jo agreed. He looked behind the vending machines while Lucy sniffed around the sides. Nothing looked out of place. Just normal everyday vending machines. Jo stood in front of them, looking at the selections.
“It looks like they have Mounds bars. Those are my favorite,” she said.
“I’m an Almond Joy man, myself.” Sam turned and glanced back at the empty parking lot as Jo fed in money for the candy bar. “Doesn’t look like this place gets a lot of use in summer.”
Jo reached in and pulled out the candy bar, unwrapped it, tore off the end, and handed Sam half. “I hope it isn’t stale.”
Lucy, who had made her way around the corner, trotted back, tail wagging.
“Chocolate is bad for dogs,” Jo said, her mouth stuffed full.
But Lucy wasn’t begging for food. She nudged Jo’s hand and then trotted back to the other side of the building, past the last vending machine.
“Wonder what she wants,” Sam said as he followed her.
Bathrooms were on the other side of the building, one door for men and one for women.
Jo cracked the ladies’ room door. “I’m surprised they don’t lock these in the off-season.”
Lucy trotted toward the men’s room, and Sam followed. Sam opened the door, and Lucy pushed her way inside as he fumbled for a light switch.
The bathroom was done in plain white tile. It smelled a little musty but was fairly clean, which surprised Sam. He would have thought that people would come here to party in the summer and leave a mess. Sure, there was some graffiti on the steel-gray stall dividers, and one of the shower curtains in the stalls at the end had been ripped halfway down, but otherwise, it wasn’t too bad.
Lucy had trotted past the showers, and Sam’s eyes followed her, his heart skipping when he saw what was next to the shower stalls. Four rows of small lockers, all with their doors open … except one.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” It was so quiet that Jo’s muffled voice could be heard even in the next bathroom.
Sam nodded. “Yeah. Lockers. And one of them has a lock on it.”
The door opened, and Jo came in beside him. “These bathrooms aren’t in full view of the parking lot. Someone following Tyler here might not have known he came in the bathroom. If they stayed in their car and watched him from a distance, they might have thought he was just getting something from the vending machines.”
Sam already had the padlock in his hand and the key out of his pocket. He met Jo’s eyes.
“Here goes.” Sam put the key in and turned it. The lock slid open with a click.
He removed the lock, pulled the door open, and reached inside, his fingertips brushing against a cold metal box. He pulled it out. It was a lockbox about the size of a notebook and four inches thick.
“Guess we’re finally going to get to see what Tyler had hidden away.”
Jo watched as Sam balanced the box on the sink and unsnapped the metal latch then lifted the lid. “Hopefully, there’s something in here that links Forest Duncan to Thorne.”
Inside sat a spiral notebook and some photographs. Sam picked up the notebook, and Jo took the photos.
On the second photograph, she hit pay dirt. It was Forest Duncan. “Here’s one of Duncan.” Her pulse picked up speed as she studied the image, but something wasn’t right. The photo wasn’t of Forest doing anything illegal, unless you considered crouching in the woods with binoculars illegal. It had a time stamp on the corner, and she shuffled through the others and came to another photo with the same time stamp, but this one was of Scott Elliott unloading boxes from the back of a truck. Drugs?
She put the two photos side by side. They were grainy, and it was hard to make out, but it looked as if the two had been taken in the same spot, just from different vantage points. Had Forest Duncan been spying on Scott Elliott? And why take a photo?
Presumably, Tyler had put the photo in the box. Why would he want a photo of Forest Duncan spying on Thorne’s henchman? Was Tyler trying to prove to Thorne that Duncan was trying to get evidence against him? Why keep it in the box? Why not show Thorne right away? And if Tyler had let Thorne go on all those police calls, didn’t that mean they were working together?
“Something doesn’t add up.” Sam frowned down at the notebook.
“Yeah. Tell me about it. Look at these photos. It’s almost as if Tyler was spying on Forest Duncan. Or Thorne.” Jo showed Sam the images.
“Yeah. This notebook is in some kind of shorthand or code, but there’s definitely dates, and I think the coded parts are locations.”
Jo studied the notebook over his shoulder. “Some of those dates are days that Tyler let Forest off on some of those police calls.”
“No kidding. I’m getting a funny feeling about this.”
“Me too.” As Jo looked further into the pile of photos, her unease grew. And then she spotted something shockingly familiar. Beech trees with the lower branches broken, just like those she’d seen near the graves linked to her sister’s case.
She struggled to breathe as she stared at the photo. It couldn’t be. After years of looking, was this finally the spot? Had Tyler captured this inadvertently while spying on Thorne? But where exactly was it?
She looked for landmarks. Nothing. It was just another photo of Scott Elliott. This time, he was carrying a crate in the woods. The more she looked at it, the less sure she was that the beech trees were even marked in the same style. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. Maybe it was —
“What the heck?” Sam’s voice interrupted her thoughts. He’d grabbed some papers from the bottom of the box, and he handed them to Jo. She dropped the photo back into the box before taking the papers.
Her heart twisted as she read them. They were blackmail letters demanding money. She glanced up at Sam. “Tyler was blackmailing someone?”
“Yeah. Thorne. And I think I know why.” Sam handed her another piece of paper—DNA test results. Jo couldn’t believe her eyes. The scrap that Dupont had clutched in his dying hand hadn’t told the whole story. Yes, Thorne was the father of a Richardson, but not Tyler Richardson. Thorne was the father of Tyler’s sister, Clarissa.
They’d had it all wrong.
“The blackmail was for her treatments. That’s where the large deposit of money in his bank account came from.”
“And earlier deposits, I suspect. We never looked any further into his account,” Sam said. “I always wondered how he afforded those expensive treatments for Clarissa, even after moving in and consolidating bills with his mother. Cops don’t make very much.”
“But what about all these photos and the dates and locations recorded in the notebook?” Jo asked. “Why would any of this intimidate Thorne? Why would he care if anyone knew he was Clarissa’s father?”
“Well, Harry did say that Thorne’s wife was a force to be reckoned with, and her family is quite wealthy. That’s how Thorne was financed.” Sam thought for a minute. “Clarissa was much younger than Tyler. Thorne would have been married when she was born, so he must have had an affair with Mrs. Richardson.”
“Seriously?” Jo made a face. “You expect me to believe Thorne would be afraid to let his wife find out he had an affair that resulted in a child?”
“Maybe not so much the wife, but the wife’s family money. Didn’t Harry say something about a prenup?”
“But wouldn’t Thorne make plenty with his drug trade? Why would he care about the wife’s money?”
“Maybe he launders the drug
money through the properties he’s building. If the wife’s family financed it, they could pull the rug out from under him. Without that, he’d have no way to launder the drug money,” Sam said. “You have to admit this explains a lot. It’s all here. And Thorne did give Tyler money.”
“I suppose so. Tyler must have been trying to get something else besides Clarissa to hold over Thorne as extra insurance. That’s why he has all these photos and records.”
Jo’s mind drifted to the photo of the beech trees. It was probably just a coincidence. Maybe the branches weren’t cut the same way. She’d have to compare them to the photos she had in the bottom drawer of her armoire later. But even if they were, she had no way to figure out where the area was … unless Forest Duncan remembered. She took a deep breath and pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind. She had put her sister’s case away for good, and what they were working on now was more important. It deserved her full attention.
“But why didn’t Tyler tell us?” Jo asked.
“How could he? Blackmailing the resident drug lord isn’t exactly something you tell your fellow cops,” Sam said. “You know how important his family was to him. His sister always came first. And even though he wouldn’t have wanted to go behind our backs like this, he did it for her.”
It was true. Tyler had thought the world of his sister. Jo probably would have thought the world of hers.
“And I don’t think he ever would have told us, because he wouldn’t want Thorne to be put away,” Sam said. “If Thorne went to jail, the blackmail money would dry up.”
“But what about all these photos and notes? It looks like he was gathering evidence.”
“I think he needed to get as much as he could on Thorne to keep blackmailing him in case the threat of telling his wife wasn’t viable anymore.” Sam picked up the photo of Forest. “And these photos served another purpose. They protect Forest Duncan. Tyler must have had Forest informing on him. That’s what all the calls about Forest being let go were about. He had to make it look like he was arresting Forest so Thorne wouldn’t think they were working together. He probably had Forest doing odd jobs for Thorne, maybe even dealing drugs, but these photos prove that Forest was working with Tyler.” Sam looked at Jo. “Tyler did this to protect Forest.”
Jo had mixed feelings. She could understand why Tyler had done what he’d done, but she wasn’t sure she could justify him letting Thorne continue his dirty business.
“That would be just like Tyler to make sure Forest didn’t get caught up in this whole thing.” Jo looked down at the photo then back up at Sam. “But if Forest Duncan isn’t the distributor or the one who killed Dupont, who is?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sam and Jo stopped at Jo’s long enough to drop off the box and for Jo to put out more food for the orange cat, which was waiting on her porch again. Lucy didn’t seem keen on the cat’s presence, so they left her in the Tahoe.
There was no benefit in telling anyone else about the box. None of the photos showed Thorne in a compromising position, and they already knew Scott Elliott was involved. Having to explain how they’d had possession of the key and knew Tyler had hidden a box would be problematic. Besides, now that they’d discovered Tyler wasn’t working with Thorne, they were reluctant to blame him. Who could fault him for taking care of his sister?
It was late afternoon by the time they got back to the station. Bev, Wyatt, and Kevin were all there. Sam had barely had time to process the ramifications of what they’d found in Tyler’s box. All this time, Tyler had been gathering his own evidence against Thorne. They were enemies, not allies. It was doubtful he’d been tipping Thorne off to their stakeouts. But then how had Thorne always known what they were up to? Was there someone else in the department that had been ratting them out?
Bev looked at Sam, suspicion flickering in her eyes. “Where have you been?”
“Following a lead that had to do with Tyler’s stolen car.”
“Connected to this case?” Bev’s eyes flicked from Sam to Jo. “Did it pan out?”
“Unfortunately, no,” Sam said. “What about you?”
“I didn’t find anything suspicious in Forest Duncan’s finances.” Bev seemed a bit less friendly, uneasy. Was it because Forest Duncan was turning into a dead end, or had she discovered something else?
Sam glanced at Jo. Now that they knew Forest Duncan probably wasn’t working with Thorne, he realized it had been a mistake to build him up as their prime suspect. They needed to figure out another angle and get Bev off Duncan’s trail fast. Who knew what she would turn up about him and Tyler?
“I’m not surprised you didn’t find anything,” Wyatt said. “I checked out Duncan’s alibi. He was at home, playing video games, when Dupont was murdered, just like he said.”
“Really? Is that irrefutable?” Bev asked.
“He plays a group game. You know, the kind where you can play with other people online. A server keeps track of when they’re on. According to his server, he played for four hours that night. He couldn’t have killed Dupont.”
Kevin frowned. “Couldn’t that be faked? He could have had a friend play for him.”
“He could have, I suppose,” Wyatt said.
Sam seized the opportunity. “We haven’t found anything else linking him. Maybe Duncan isn’t our guy.”
“Sure, maybe. But who else do we have to go with?” Bev asked.
“Maybe we should be looking a little closer to home.” Holden Joyce came around the post office boxes, his fist clenched around some papers. Sam wished he’d stopped to take an aspirin. Holden Joyce was the last thing he needed right now.
Joyce folded his arms over his chest, the papers crinkling as he stared at Sam. “Let me guess: your lead didn’t pan out.”
“No.”
“I’m not surprised. I think maybe there’s more to this than you’re telling us. I dug up a witness who says he saw Officer Harris at the mill long before your official report states.”
“Of course I was there,” Jo said. “We needed to go there beforehand to make sure we weren’t being set up.”
“Well, your report doesn’t state that.”
“An oversight,” Jo said. “We were treating it very carefully in case things didn’t pan out. We didn’t want Thorne to find out the mayor had ratted him out. Could be dangerous for him.”
“Yeah, turns out it was dangerous for him anyway,” Holden snarled.
“This might be my fault,” Kevin volunteered. “I talked to the neighbor who saw Jo, but I didn’t report it. I just figured it had already made its way into the report. Sorry.”
Sam studied Kevin. Was he telling the truth? If so, why didn’t he mention it before? Either way, one thing was clear: Kevin was covering for them.
“Just what are you getting at, Joyce?” Bev demanded.
“A lot of things don’t add up about this case,” Holden said. “Reports that aren’t filled out correctly. Sam’s buddy happening to have an SUV exactly like the one a witness saw speeding away from the murder site. Oh, and the handwriting expert says Tyler Richardson didn’t write that last entry in his log.” Holden stepped closer to Sam. “So tell me, Chief Mason, what exactly are you up to?”
Sam’s fist tightened, and he stepped away from Holden, mentally counting to three before he answered.
“He’s not up to anything,” Jo said before Sam reached two. “You know as well as we all do that reports don’t always get filled out correctly. Sometimes we have to fill in logbooks for each other.”
“Yes, but not after one of us is dead.” Holden Joyce turned to Sam. “If you confess now, we can cut you a deal. Tell us everything—what you’ve been up to and why you’ve been fixing these cases.”
“I haven’t been up to anything, Agent Joyce.”
“Really? There’re a lot of inconsistencies, not to mention the little matter of some extra money that showed up in Tyler Richardson’s account.”
Sam pressed his lips together. When he had
thought that Tyler was working with Thorne, he was willing to let the chips fall as they might. Tyler had made a deal with the enemy, and if his reputation was tarnished because of it, then so be it. Now that he knew the extra money was to pay for Clarissa’s treatments, he wanted to defend Tyler. But how?
“Yeah, that’s right. Your suspect didn’t have any extra money, but your cop did. Could that be drug money?” Holden asked.
“I don’t see what this has to do with Chief Mason,” Bev said. “If Officer Richardson was on the take, you can hardly blame the other cops in the squad.”
“Except Chief Mason has been doing things on the side to obscure the facts in the Richardson case, haven’t you?”
“No. Our fellow officer was murdered. Of course we’re going to look into who did it and try to bring them to justice.”
“Still not willing to talk? Then let’s not forget about the matter of the money you tried to launder.”
Sam’s brows creased. “What?”
Holden held the papers up like a trophy. “Through your own slain officer’s mother. You should be ashamed.”
“No, it wasn’t like that,” Jo came to his defense.
“So it’s no coincidence that Tyler Richardson’s mother got the exact same sum of money from the Fallen Officers Fund that mysteriously appeared and then disappeared from Mason’s bank account?” Holden Joyce pointed to a copy of a deposit slip on one of the papers. “Funny thing is, there is no Fallen Officers Fund.”
Bev’s scowl deepened the more Holden talked. She squinted at the evidence, suspicion darkening her eyes. “Now, wait a minute. This doesn’t exactly make sense. He wouldn’t launder money through his own bank account.”
“Maybe. But you have to admit Chief Mason is up to something shady.”
Bev pursed her lips, looking from Holden to the evidence to Sam. Sam could tell he was losing her support, but he had no way to clear himself.
“I think it’s best that the FBI takes over everything involved in this case,” Holden said.
Bev whirled on him. “Now, you wait a minute, Joyce. I’m in charge of the Dupont case. It’s a local case. You can butt out. I don’t like anyone horning in on my cases.”
