Telling Lies

by L A Dobbs

  After Tara left, Sam settled back behind his desk. Jo got up to pace the room. Lucy paced behind her.

  "So Lynn had an amorous meeting with Noah in the alley," Sam said.

  "But Noah was in the bar." Jo stood at the window looking out over the street. O’Malley’s was two doors down from the alley where Tara had indicated she’d seen the romantic meeting between Lynn and Noah. "Then again, Derek and Josh said he was in the bar. They were playing pool, not watching Noah. He could’ve slipped out and met Lynn in the alley."

  "But why go to all that trouble? Why the subterfuge? Why wouldn’t Noah just break up with Amber and get back together with Lynn?" Sam asked.

  Jo turned and paced back to Sam’s desk, Lucy at her heels. "I have no idea. People do strange things. Maybe it has something to do with her will. Maybe he was trying to be nice to get her to change it. Or maybe they had just realized they still had feelings for each other now. That could explain what Derek saw. Maybe it was Noah sneaking out to meet with Lynn."

  "Or Amber sneaking out to kill her so Noah couldn’t meet with her."

  "Either way, there’s something off about this," Jo said. "At least that settles the whole business of the appointment."

  "Maybe. I’d still like to find out what’s on her cell phone. There could be texts or phone calls that would give us a clue about something."

  "Those are always interesting." Jo patted Lucy’s head. "And I think we better have another talk with Noah. He forgot to tell us about his alley meeting with Lynn. But right now, I think we need to take Lucy out to do some business. And get some lunch."

  Sam pushed up from his desk and walked to the door with Jo and Lucy. "Maybe we should get a leash for her."

  "Why? She seems to stay right with us."

  "She does, but it just seems like we should have one just in case." Sam opened the door and gestured for Jo and Lucy to proceed out into the squad room area.

  Reese was at her desk. She looked up and smiled at them. Then her eyes drifted out of the window and widened in alarm. "Oh shit! Dupont’s coming."

  Jo spun around. Dupont was walking up the street, clutching a manila envelope.

  Jo’s first inclination was to shove Lucy back into Sam’s office. But what if Dupont wanted to talk to Sam privately in there? There was an entrance on the other side they never used. It opened to a small parking lot where the mail trucks used to park in back. She rushed over to the door and shoved Lucy outside just as Dupont came in the front.

  "Mr. Dupont, how nice to see you." Reese’s voice was light.

  Dupont scowled at her. "What’s going on?"

  Reese smiled, all wide-eyed and innocent. "Nothing."

  Dupont cleared his throat and looked at Sam. "Thank you for visiting the Palmers. It meant a lot to them."

  "Of course," Sam said.

  "We still need to get this solved right away. The townsfolk don’t like to think of a murderer running around." Dupont’s tone turned hard. "And you need to think about hiring someone. Being shorthanded has impacted this investigation."

  "Not really," Sam said. "We’ve been working extra hours, and Kevin has been filling in for the full-time hours to take up the slack."

  "And will he be taking the full-time position?"

  "No, but I think it’s premature to—"

  Dupont shoved the manila envelope into Sam’s hand. "Here are the applicants for the job. I don’t want the townspeople complaining the streets aren’t safe. That could reflect badly on me in the election polls next year. So I expect to be fully staffed by the end of the month." Dupont turned toward the door and shot over his shoulder, "And don’t forget to keep me updated on the Palmer case."

  "Man, what a jerk. He couldn’t give a crap if we are understaffed or if there’s crime in town—he just cares about getting reelected." Jo watched him walk away, making sure he wasn’t going to come back before opening the side door to let Lucy in.

  Lucy wasn’t sitting on the step as Jo had expected. She looked further, in the shrubs and out into the parking lot, but Lucy was nowhere to be found. She was gone.

  The station felt empty without Lucy. They had looked all around the building and into the town but didn’t find her.

  They were seated at Jo’s desk, and Sam was eating a pastrami on rye. Jo was moving the chunks of her beef stew around in her bowl, a white bag with one last jelly donut sitting beside her. Reese munched on a salad at her own desk across the lobby. The room was filled with the smell of beef and cheese, but it was mostly silent except for their chewing. An air of sadness had descended upon them.

  Kevin had come and gone. It was late afternoon, and nothing else was going on. He seemed eager to leave, so Sam had let him go home. Kevin wasn’t exactly what you’d call a go-getter.

  Sam glanced at the applications Dupont had given him. Maybe it was time to start looking through them.

  "It might be just as well that she’s gone. Eric said she might not be adoptable. If she makes the shelter circuit and no one claims her, she could be euthanized. Maybe it’s better that she’s out there on her own," Reese said.

  Jo looked disturbed by this. She even put down the jelly donut she’d dug out of the bag and brushed off her fingers. You knew it had to be bad when Jo didn’t finish her donut. "But what will she eat? In the winter, where will she sleep?"

  "I don’t know. It looks like she’s been on her own for a while. Maybe we can look out for her somehow."

  "If she sticks around the area." Sam wadded up the paper from his finished sandwich and tossed it into the trash.

  Reese’s computer dinged. "Good news. I ran the password decryption program on Lynn’s Google account, and looks like it worked."

  "How did you know she had a Google account?" Sam asked.

  Reese shrugged. "It was just a guess. A lot of people have them. You know it’s free. And you can get Google calendar and email. I figured she worked for the company, and they didn’t have a lot of money, so they probably didn’t spend money on fancy apps."

  "Did you say calendar?" Jo’s attention was focused on Reese.

  Reese smiled. "Yes, I did. The program figured out her password. It runs a bunch of combinations. And guess what. She did have an appointment that day."

  Sam and Jo were across the room in a second, looking down at Reese’s laptop screen. "You mean the day they all came to town, she wasn’t just meeting with Noah?"

  Reese tapped her finger on the screen. "That was the twelfth, right? Look at where it says, ’meeting 1 PM. R. B.’"

  "R. B.?" Jo screwed up her face. "Unless R. B. is code for mauling Noah near the dumpster, it looks like Amber might have been right about Lynn being up to something."

  Sam walked up Main Street toward the antiques store. Julie had said she’d seen Lynn heading in that direction and that Lynn collected antique marbles. No marbles have been found in her belongings, but it was possible she didn’t find anything in the store that she wanted to add to her collection.

  But while Julie had said that she’d seen Lynn walk up toward the antiques store, Tara had said she’d seen her in the alley next to O’Malley’s. Could she have been in both places? It was possible since they had been downtown for an hour. But what about the appointment with R. B.? Would she have had time for all three?

  The bell on the antique oak door of the shop jangled as Sam opened it. Inside, Clara Weatherby looked up at him from behind the counter. She looked the same as she always did, with snow-white hair, a deeply wrinkled face, and a generous smile. Sam guessed Clara to be about eighty. She’d always owned the antique shop, and he’d known her since he was a little boy.

  "Samuel! How lovely to see you. Have you decided to take up collecting? Start a collection now, and leave some family heirlooms for your lovely girls."

  Sam chuckled. Antique collecting wasn’t really his thing. He was more of a minimalist. "Not today, Clara. Today I have some questions."

  "Hopefully, I have the answers."

  "I was wondering if a
tourist came in recently. A young woman looking for marbles." Sam leaned on the glass display case Clara used as a counter while she thought.

  Clara frowned. "I don’t recall anything like that. And you know I have a sharp memory."

  Clara’s memory was legendary. If someone had come looking for a cobalt-blue Meissen teapot in 1950, she’d remember it to the day and be able to supply that teapot even if she came across it decades later. He didn’t doubt that Clara would remember if Lynn had been in there.

  "Did you work every day this week?" he asked. Clara had a few part-time helpers that manned the store when she went to estate sales and auctions.

  "Yep. No auctions for me to attend this week, so I’ve been behind the counter every day. If you’re asking if the girl came in this week, I can assure you she didn’t."

  Sam thanked Clara and left. Someone had lied about the marbles, but he didn’t know if it was Julie that had lied or if Lynn had lied to Julie. Why would Lynn lie?

  She clearly did have a meeting and apparently hadn’t told any of her coworkers. But why keep it a secret? And who was R. B.?

  Several of them had said that Lynn had headed in the direction of the antiques store. That didn’t mean she stopped there, though. Maybe if he continued down the street, something would jump out at him.

  Sam walked slowly, looking down the side streets and into the shops. He wasn’t just trying to figure out where Lynn might have really gone—he was also looking for any sign of Lucy.

  He’d gotten attached to the dog in the short time he’d known her. He hated thinking about her trying to survive out on the streets alone. Up here, there was a lot of wildlife that could be dangerous to dogs, and winter temperatures dipped well below zero.

  Reese’s announcement of how Lucy could be euthanized had chilled him. Maybe Sam could find someone that would take her. One of his daughters or his ex-wife? Maybe even Mick.

  At the end of the street was a plain-looking gray concrete building. In Sam’s opinion, it was the ugliest building in town. It hadn’t been built in the early 1900s like the rest of Main Street and didn’t have the fine architectural details the other buildings had. This one had been built around 1970 and was made of giant concrete blocks that would have been more at home in an inner city than in a quaint New England town.

  Sam never paid much attention to the building, and not just because of its looks. It was loaded with lawyers and accountants. He didn’t get along with many lawyers in town, especially the ones that defended those who broke the law.

  He was about to turn back when the black-and-gold sign listing the occupants caught his eye. One occupant in particular. Richard Bannister Funding. R. B.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Richard Bannister’s office was on the second floor. Sam took the stairs. Richard was about twelve years younger than Sam, but Sam had known his family since he was a kid. He remembered him as a somewhat chubby and awkward but happy kid running around at town cookouts and riding his bike up and down the streets.

  Judging by the mahogany furniture, thick burgundy rug, and receptionist in the foyer of his office suite, Richard had done well for himself.

  Sam wasn’t wearing his police uniform, just the windbreaker with the White Rock Police insignia, his jeans, and a blue button-down shirt, so he flashed his badge at the receptionist.

  "Is Mr. Bannister in?"

  Her eyes widened at his badge. She had nice eyes. Light blue, with just a hint of dark mascara. Her outfit was a tailored suit. She looked worried.

  "Is there some trouble?" she asked.

  "Not at all." Sam introduced himself. "Sam Mason. Chief of police, but I’m sort of a family friend. Just here to ask a question or two."

  Her relief was palpable. She pressed a button on the phone and announced that Sam was there.

  She stood. "Right this way."

  Sam followed her to a mahogany door with a large brass handle, which she opened to reveal a man in his late twenties sitting behind a gigantic desk. The awkward, chubby kid was gone. Richard had grown up to be trim and full of self-confidence. He still seemed happy.

  He stood and came around the desk, extending his hand, a smile on his face. "Sam. Good to see you."

  The two men shook hands. Richard didn’t seem at all nervous, not that Sam expected him to be. Just because Lynn had met with him the day she died didn’t mean he had anything to do with her death. Didn’t mean it didn’t have something to do with it either.

  Sam wondered why Richard wouldn’t seem a little nervous, knowing someone he’d met with had died shortly after the meeting and now the chief of police was standing in his office. Then again, maybe Richard wasn’t the R. B. that had been on Lynn’s calendar.

  Richard gestured for Sam to sit, and he sank into a soft, buttery leather chair that leaned back easily without squeaking. Sam wondered if he should upgrade the ancient chair in his own office as Richard sat back down behind the desk.

  "I suppose this isn’t just a social call," Richard said.

  "Why’s that?"

  "You’re here about Lynn Palmer, right?" Richard spun in his chair to look out the big windows that looked away from town, toward the mountains in the distance. He sucked in a breath. "Terrible thing what happened to her. We were friends in college. She was a nice girl. Smart. Do you know who did it?"

  "I have some suspicions." Sam leaned forward in his chair. "So you did meet with her that day?"

  "Sure." Richard shrugged. "Is that some kind of a secret?"

  "Apparently. When did you meet with her?"

  Richard looked down at the appointment book that lay open on his desk. "From noon until quarter to one."

  "Why was she here?"

  Richard looked surprised, as if Sam should’ve known. "She was looking to get funding for her company. Hey, look, if I was supposed to come down and tell you that I met with her, I’m sorry. I figured you would’ve known and come to ask if you had a question."

  Sam leaned back in the chair. "Were you able to give her money?"

  Richard’s face darkened. "Unfortunately, I wasn’t. I’m just a little guy. I don’t have a lot of capital. That’s why I fund the smaller companies. But I don’t have extra funds to get into anything too risky, even if they do offer a high rate of return, and to tell you the truth, her company was just a bit too risky for my comfort level."

  "Why’s that?"

  "The balance sheet. That company had way too many expenses for the income." Richard spread his hands. "I told her to tighten up expenses and come back and see me in six months." His face turned sad, and he looked down at the desk. "I guess that won’t be happening now."

  It made sense. The company wasn’t doing well, and Lynn wanted more money. An influx of cash might help to fund a more lucrative project. But why didn’t she tell any of the others? Was there someone in the company that wouldn’t want her to get outside funding?

  Sam walked slowly back to the station, his mind turning over the particulars of the case. It made sense that Lynn was looking for funding given that sales had taken a downturn, but why had she kept it a secret?

  Pedestrian traffic downtown was light, but still there was no sign of Lucy. Opening the large oak doors into the marbled foyer of the police station, he half expected to see the dog lying beside Reese’s desk. But she wasn’t. Somehow, the station seemed sad and empty without her.

  Jo was sitting on the edge of her desk, studying the corkboard with the pictures of Lynn’s belongings. She looked over at him, one brow raised. "Did you find Lucy?"

  "No, but I found something else," Sam said.

  "At the antiques store?"

  "No. Well, I did discover that no one came in looking for marbles that day. Then, when I left the store, I noticed the sign on the ugly concrete building." Sam jerked his chin in the direction of the end of Main Street where the building jutted out from in between two others. "Richard Bannister. He does investment funding for small companies."

  Jo crossed her arms over her che
st. "The R. B. from her calendar?"

  "One and the same." Sam told her about the conversation he’d had with Richard. "Turns out they’re old friends from college, so when Lynn needed money, she looked him up."

  "That’s why she insisted on having the camping trip here," Jo said.

  "Yep."

  "So she really did have an appointment. Amber wasn’t lying."

  "Not about that."

  Jo frowned. "But if Lynn was meeting with Richard, how could she have been in the alley with Noah?"

  "It’s possible. They were in town for an hour, and the meeting with Richard only lasted forty-five minutes, according to Richard. What I want to know is why didn’t anyone else in the company know that she was going for funding? I think we need to ask a few more questions of our friendly campers." Sam looked around. "Where’s Reese?"

  Jo pointed at the door. "She stepped out to meet one of her classmates. Said he might have information on that fingerprint."

  Sam frowned. "And where’s Kevin?"

  Jo made a show of looking at her watch. "It’s six p.m. He’s already gone home."

  The door opened, and Reese breezed in. "I have some good news and some bad news."

  "Give me the good news first," said Sam.

  "The good news is my classmate was able to take your prints from the glass and run them against the partial that we found in the stolen car without logging it in officially. He logged the use in along with one of his class assignments."

  "And the bad news?"

  "Bad news is none of them were a match."

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Sam and Jo had a lot to discuss with the new information and the disappointing results on the fingerprint. But Tyler’s empty desk sitting in the corner was too depressing. They headed to the bar.

  It was a weeknight, so Holy Spirits wasn’t as crowded as it would be on the weekend. There was plenty of room up at the bar, and Jo slipped into a seat on the corner, with Sam to her right.

  They ordered beers and fries. Jo thought about her fish. She’d named him Finn, and so far, he’d seemed quite happy in his little glass-bowl world on her counter. Luckily, she didn’t have to rush home to feed him or let him out, as she would’ve if she’d had a dog.