The Saint Paddy's Promise

by Kathi Daley

  Tony and I drove back to my cabin while Mike headed out to meet Bree. As far as I knew, they hadn’t made it to The Lakehouse yet, but Bree hadn’t called for my help, so maybe she had convinced the woman in charge of leasing to give her more time.

  “I know this is Mike’s case, but I wonder if we should do our own background search. Just to find out things like whether Brick has living relatives besides his uncle, or who we might contact to obtain additional information.”

  “It is Mike’s case. He’s a cop. He is perfectly qualified to do a background search and obtain that information,” Tony reminded me. “If he asks for help, I will absolutely provide it, but we did agree to take a step back and let him do his job.”

  I let out a long, slow breath. “Yeah, I know. I just feel sort of antsy. Like we should be doing something.”

  Tony leaned over and kissed me gently on the lips. “I can think of a few things to fill our time.”

  I smiled. “Yeah. Like what?”

  Tony whispered in my ear.

  I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t a challenge to try to best him in the new video game he was helping his best friend, Shaggy, test.

  I raised a brow. “You have it? Here with you right now?”

  Tony nodded.

  I couldn’t help but grin. Gaming with Tony was one of my favorite things to do. It was, among other things, the link that had made us friends in the first place. “Game on, puny mortal; game on.”

  Chapter 5

  Tuesday, March 19

  Mike was able to get a search warrant to open Brick’s safe easily enough. It turned out to contain a whole lot of money and a thirty-page document, complete with graphs, charts, and details relating to the genetic makeup of four individuals. The problem was, all of the names had been replaced with letters, making it impossible to know whose DNA Brick had had tested. Despite having the information, we didn’t know why Brick wanted it.

  “This report looks different,” I said, holding up several sheets of paper labeled Subject K. “The results aren’t the same. It almost looks like the K results are much older. There is a lot less information provided, and the documents have a different look to them.”

  Mike took a closer look at the report for subject K. “This looks like a request for DNA testing from a lab in Des Moines, Iowa. And you’re right, it isn’t all that recent.”

  “Can I take a look?” Tony asked.

  Mike handed him the report.

  Tony took a closer look. “It appears that subject K and subject L are the same person.”

  “Okay, that is weird. Right?” I asked, petting Tilly distractedly on the top of the head.

  “It appears as if the document relating to subject K is the document that Brick was testing the other DNA samples against. Maybe the results for K are for some other person Brick wanted to identify.”

  I frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “Perhaps K is someone known to Brick by relationship only,” Tony explained. “For example, maybe Brick never knew his father, but he had his DNA profile for some reason. I will admit that would be odd, but bear with me on this for now. Maybe Brick suspected four men of being his father based on what his mother had told him, and he wanted to know which of them he was actually related to, so he took DNA samples from all four and had them tested against the original sample.”

  “So we are looking at a twist on a Mamma Mia! thing?” I asked.

  Tony shrugged. “I don’t know for sure, but it is an explanation that can be used to demonstrate a possible scenario. I’m sure there are others.”

  Mike picked up the report from subject K. “This report is not part of the report from Genocom describing the genetic makeup of subjects B, S, L, or A. We aren’t close to figuring out why Brick was doing this testing, but it seems that whatever Brick was doing was important to him. I bet reports with this amount of detail don’t come cheap.”

  “So the real question is, what was Brick looking in to, and was that what got him killed?” Tony asked.

  “We know that the letter with the typewritten address was from Genocom and the large envelope with the logo was most likely the report for subjects B, S, L, and A, and we suspect the other large envelope might have been the report relating to subject K, which is different from the others, but what about the other letter?” I asked. “The one with the handwritten address. Is that in the safe as well?”

  Mike shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not.”

  “What are the odds that we can get a court order to gain access to the names behind the four samples that were tested at Genocom?” Tony asked.

  “If we can come up with compelling evidence that the tests that Brick commissioned from Genocom are directly related to his murder, we may be able to get a court order demanding that the company provide us with that information, but short of that, the confidentiality between the company and the client will probably prevail. After we found the first letter, I called Genocom and spoke to a clerk who wouldn’t give me squat. I guess I can try speaking to someone higher up in the hierarchy of the company. Perhaps I can get them to cooperate voluntarily.”

  “It’s worth a try.” I began walking around the small room. It was dusty and cluttered, and I wasn’t sure how Brick had gotten any work done in here. I really wanted to find the handwritten letter. In my mind, it could very well be the key to making sense of the murder. I began opening and closing the cabinet doors of the built-ins that lined one wall. The contents didn’t seem to be arranged in any sort of logical order. There was a packing slip from a recent alcohol order on the same shelf as an old beer tap, a leather wristband with several handstamped symbols on it, a box of toothpicks, and a pack of chewing gum that must have long since gone stale.

  “Have you checked out Brick’s computer?” I asked Mike. I’d noticed that it was missing from the desk, where I’d seen it on a previous visit.

  “We haven’t been able to find it. I know Brick had just one laptop for both business and personal use, so when we didn’t find it on his desk during our initial search of the bar, I just figured it was in his car or at home, but we haven’t been able to locate it in either location.”

  “What about his cell?” Tony asked.

  “It was in his pocket when he was shot. We have it down at the station. It is password protected, and so far, we haven’t been able to access it.”

  I looked around the office in search of a clue. Besides the furniture, there were photos, awards, and certificates on the walls, dusty books on the shelves, a couple of bowling trophies, and a whole lot of clutter. I noticed a half-full glass of whiskey on the credenza in the back of the room “Did anyone think to dust that glass for prints?”

  Mike frowned. “I don’t remember seeing it there when I was here before.”

  I thought about our visit the previous day. I hadn’t noticed the glass then either, but then, I hadn’t been looking for it. Chances were Brick had been enjoying a whiskey while he cleaned up on Saturday night. He could have come back to the office to finish up some paperwork or to store the cash taken that evening in the safe. Maybe he’d heard a noise, set the glass down while he went to investigate, and then was shot before he could return to the office. Or perhaps, I amended, someone had broken in and helped themselves to a drink.

  “I’ll take the glass back to the station with me,” Mike stated.

  “I think we should keep our eyes open for other correspondence that might have something to do with the report from Genocom, and maybe we should dig into Brick’s family tree,” I suggested. “If we can find a child he never knew about but had recently surfaced, or a parent who abandoned him as a child and he decided to track down, that could explain the Genocom tests.” I looked at Mike. “This part of the story began with a box you found that appeared to have been carried and delivered by the USPS but never came through my hands. Were you ever able to figure out who did deliver it? I meant to ask around this morning, but I was late to work and the other mail car
riers had already headed out on their routes.”

  “I did inquire about the box. None of the other carriers admitted to having delivered it, yet that nice woman at the desk was able to confirm it had been checked in at the sorting station in Missoula and was dropped off at this post office a week ago Friday for delivery the following Monday.”

  “So someone who has access to the back room of the post office must have seen the package and taken it to Brick before it was assigned to a carrier.”

  Mike nodded. “That would be my guess.”

  “The only reason I can come up with for someone doing it is that whatever was in the box was time sensitive and Brick somehow managed to convince someone with access to the back room to fetch the box for him rather than making him wait until Monday. While not kosher, bypassing a carrier is not unheard of. I wonder why whoever took the box and gave it to Brick doesn’t simply own up to having done so.”

  Mike shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  I glanced at my watch. Tilly and I needed to get back out. “I’ll call you this evening to touch base,” I said as I started to walk away. “Oh, I meant to ask, did Bree talk to you about going with her to look at The Lakehouse?”

  Mike nodded. “She did. We are meeting the event coordinator there at five. And Tess, thanks for helping her to work out a doable compromise.”

  “That’s what the maid of honor is supposed to do.”

  By the time I returned to my route, I was a good thirty minutes behind schedule. I’d need to hurry to get caught up, so I tried very hard to just deliver the mail without stopping to talk to everyone. Of course, executing a drop-and-run was not always easy, especially when everyone had questions about Brick and White Eagle’s latest murder investigation. Still, I was able to set a good pace until I arrived at Sue’s Sewing Nook. Sue was a lifelong town resident, as was I, and as a lifelong resident who was also a descendent of Dillinger Wade, one of White Eagle’s founding fathers, she took news as horrifying as a murder in the community very seriously.

  “I was hoping you’d be by while I was between customers,” Sue said when I entered her cute and eclectic shop. “I’m dying to find out what you know about Brick’s murder.”

  “Not a lot.” I set a stack of mail on the counter next to the cash register. “If you take into account the drunken shooter angle, there are a host of suspects to consider.”

  “Do you think that is what happened?” Sue asked. “Do you think some random drunk killed Brick?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Mike doesn’t know. I don’t think anyone knows yet.” I turned to make a quick exit but then paused. “I know this is a personal question and you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to, but it just occurred to me that I delivered an envelope to you maybe six months ago with the same logo on the upper left-hand corner as a letter I delivered to Brick the week before he died.”

  “Oh? And what logo was that?”

  “It belonged to a company called Genocom.”

  Sue smiled. “Your memory is correct. In fact, I was the one who told Brick about the company. He had some DNA he wanted tested and I’d used them when I found out about Austin and was happy with the results.”

  “I wasn’t aware that Austin planned to tell the entire family about the facts surrounding his birth,” I said, remembering back to the murder investigation that revealed that Austin Wade, the head of the family, wasn’t a Wade by birth.

  “He wasn’t, but when the truth came out, he decided to come clean with everyone. Austin kept the secret for a long time, but in the end, I think he was happy to clear the air.”

  “I see. And whose DNA did you test?”

  “My own, of course. I wanted to be certain that I was actually who I believed myself to be, which, of course, I am. No hidden controversy here.”

  I supposed I could understand her concern. “Do you know whose DNA Brick wanted to test?” I asked.

  Sue shook her head. “I didn’t ask. I figured that he would tell me if he wanted me to know, and he didn’t, so I let it go.”

  I was about to ask about the method of DNA collection Genocom used when a customer walked in. I really wanted to continue our conversation, but I also wanted to get my route done in time. I figured my questions could wait, so I waved goodbye to Sue and continued on my way.

  When I arrived at Bree’s bookstore, there was a sign in the window letting customers know she would be closed that afternoon. Weird. I supposed she might not have felt well, or perhaps she was busy with wedding plans. I decided to just hang on to her mail and deliver it to her home later in the day. If she was hung up and we weren’t able to connect, I could always give her today’s mail tomorrow. I continued on my way and was able to make good time on the next dozen deliveries. I arrived at Sisters’ Diner after closing, but I saw Mom and Aunt Ruthie through the window, still inside cleaning up, so I used my key and entered the restaurant.

  “There she is,” Mom said. “We thought you’d skipped us today.”

  “I was just behind after spending time with Mike and have been playing catch-up all day.” I handed my mom a stack of mail.

  “I was hoping that Mike or Frank would pop in for lunch so I could ask them about Brick’s murder investigation, but I haven’t seen either of them all day,” Aunt Ruthie complained.

  “I think they are both pretty busy,” I answered. “It’s a tough case. No one seems to have seen anything, and while there are a bunch of possible motives for the shooting, I don’t think either Mike or Frank have been able to come up with the real one yet.”

  “Most folks are speculating that Brick was killed during a robbery,” Mom said.

  “I guess that is possible. He did have a lot of money in his safe. If he was killed in the course of a robbery, though, the killer didn’t get what he was looking for. When Mike opened the safe, there was all sorts of cash just sitting there.”

  “What if the killer was after something other than money?” Ruthie asked.

  “Something like what?” I wondered.

  “I overheard a group of folks from the senior center saying that they’d heard that Brick was selling illegal drugs out of the bar.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Drugs? That doesn’t seem like Brick.”

  “I agree.” Ruthie nodded. “Still, folks are talking, and that is just one of the things I’ve heard. Leo from over at the filling station and minimart has been saying that Brick was secretive and moody lately, which seems to support the idea that he may have been not only selling drugs but taking them too.”

  “I wasn’t aware that Brick and Leo were friends.”

  “As far as I know, they aren’t. Leo said that Brick got his gas there sometimes. I imagine they chatted when Brick went in to pay.”

  I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. This was how rumors got started: a man who spent a minute chatting with Brick maybe twice a month had the impression that he was moody and withdrawn, and suddenly he was a drug addict. “I’m sure Mike did a tox screen. He didn’t mention anything about drugs to me.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t have the results yet. Those things can take time.”

  “Or maybe Leo doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” I let out a breath. “I get the idea that everyone is anxious to understand what led to Brick’s death, but I think that spreading around rumors based on nothing more than pure conjecture can be damaging both to Mike’s investigation and Brick’s reputation.”

  Ruthie lifted a shoulder. “I guess you might have a point. Leo doesn’t strike me as the sort to know much about anything, yet he does always seem to have an opinion.”

  I turned toward my mother. “So, how was your garden club yesterday?”

  As I suspected it would, her expression showed momentary confusion, which she quickly masked with a smile.

  “It was lovely. It is a little early in the year for us to meet, but with the warm weather, everyone was feeling ambitious. It is still much too soon to plant, but I enjoyed having a chance to catch
up with everyone.”

  “I just spoke to Sue a few minutes ago, and she didn’t say anything about a meeting.”

  Mom shrugged. “Only a few of us met. I wouldn’t even call it a garden club meeting. It was more like lunch with friends. Did I hear that you’d managed to convince Bree to have her wedding at an earlier time?”

  “She, along with Mike, are meeting with the event coordinator at The Lakehouse. I think it is important for Bree to have the wedding she wants so she doesn’t look back on her special day and find it lacking. But we have discussed options, and she seems okay with exploring a few other ideas. I should get going.”

  “Dinner on Sunday?” Mom called after me.

  “I’ll check with Tony and let you know.”

  Chapter 6

  By the time I got home, Tony was there waiting for me. I was always happy when he was between projects because that meant he had time to focus on us. He’d just completed a huge job that he’d been working on since January for a German client and had assured me that he was going to be home in White Eagle for the foreseeable future.

  “What’s all this?” I asked after hanging up my jacket. The entire kitchen table was covered with what looked like blueprints.

  “Plans for your patio garden.”

  I raised a brow. “My patio garden? I don’t have a patio garden.”

  “I know, but last summer you admired mine, so I thought I’d build one for you as well.”

  I ran my hand over a sketch. “It’s beautiful, but I don’t have time to tend to a garden, patio or otherwise. Your garden really is spectacular, and I love the fact that you have fresh herbs and vegetables to cook with, but you are home during the day, at least when you are in town. I, on the other hand, work five days a week. If you add in my time at the animal shelter and at your place, I think you will see that I am not here much.”

  Tony lifted the lid of a pan and gave the contents a stir. “I guess you have a point. It does seem that you spend more time at my place in the summer than you do in the winter.”