by L A Dobbs
“And that would explain why there was no camera with the body,” Jo said.
Harry leaned forward. “So you didn’t find any camera? What other clues do you—”
The front door opened again, and they all looked toward the lobby. It was Harley Dupont, but instead of his usual impeccably arrogant demeanor, he seemed a bit frazzled and nervous. His tie was askew, and his suit coat had lint on it, along with the stain from the egg. His reddish-brown hair flopped over his forehead, revealing a slight bald spot.
He barely glanced in the direction of Reese’s desk, making a beeline toward Sam’s office, stopping short as soon as he saw them all sitting in the squad room.
Lucy ran to Dupont, and his eyes softened as he bent slightly to pet the dog. He pulled a treat out of his pocket, and Lucy accepted it gracefully. Lucy and Dupont had gotten off to a rocky start. They’d hated each other in the beginning, but Lucy had warmed to him during the summer. Sam wondered if they were babying her too much. She was usually such a good judge of character, but if she sensed some redeeming quality in Dupont, it sure wasn’t anything the rest of them had picked up on.
“Well, if it ain’t our esteemed mayor.” Harry’s voice was tinged with sarcasm. It was no secret that there was no love lost between the two of them.
Dupont nodded. “Mr. Woolsey.”
“How’s the race going?” Harry taunted.
Dupont cleared his throat. “Not bad. Hard to tell this early.”
Harry smirked. “Saw you on TV. Looked like you had a little incident with an egg.”
Dupont’s face turned red. “Rabble-rousers wreaking havoc in town since those owls were discovered. Egging things left and right … at least the perpetrator didn’t trash the town office steps with the shells. Should have had him arrested. No respect for authority.”
“Not your kind of authority,” Harry said. “There’re a lot of people who don’t have respect for that. Especially with the way you’ve been finagling the zoning laws. And don’t think us older folks haven’t noticed. In fact, Charlie Berry is forming a committee to review the minutes from the meetings.”
Dupont tugged at the collar of his shirt. “What do you mean?”
“Seems there’s an awful lot of commercial building going on. More than there should be. This whole town is going to be built up like a city. Some of us won’t stand for it, Harley.”
“New construction means progress and progress brings jobs, but, er … um… I could see maybe things might be a little out of hand. Growth is good, but not too much.” Dupont gave a pointed look at Sam and then turned toward the door.
“That’s right,” Harry persisted. “And Marnie Wilson will see it’s stopped. Oh, you didn’t hear? She’s throwing her hat in the ring. Got the senior vote tied up already. I’d be worried if I were you.”
Dupont looked hard at Harry, but his voice wavered. “I think I can hold my own against Wilson.”
“Did you want something, Dupont?” Sam asked.
“I’ll come back later when you aren’t so busy.” Dupont looked at Sam again and then stalked toward the door.
“Better look into those rezoning minute meetings,” Harry called after him, then turned sheepishly back to the group. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist messing with him. One good thing about old age is you get to say what you really feel.”
“What’s was up with him? He was acting weird,” Reese said.
“Got me. Seems like he wanted to talk to Sam about something,” Harry said.
“Yeah, any idea what that was about, Sam?” Jo asked.
“No idea.” It had seemed Dupont was trying to tell him something, but darned if he knew what it was. It was unsettling, though. Sam and Dupont got along like black flies and baby skin, and he couldn’t imagine what would cause the mayor to seek his counsel.
“Well, it’s been nice talking to you.” Harry got up from the chair. “Mabel’s expecting me at home for dinner. Gotta get going.”
“I’m going to get on the computer and dig into this Summer Solstice,” Reese said.
Sam and Jo were left alone in the room. It was supper time, but Sam wasn’t ready to call it quits. “Harry might have a point about that river. Didn’t Jesse say that the drug business had dried up?”
“Something like that.” Jo had put her phone away and had her small notebook on her lap. She tapped the eraser end of her pencil on it as she studied Sam. “Maybe we should ask him more about it. Maybe he knows the guy with the orange-tipped hair.”
“Yeah, and maybe we can catch him at his favorite watering hole. What do you say? You up for a drink?”
Chapter Ten
They left Lucy in the care of Reese, who was staying at the station to work late on homework. Lucy could have stayed there alone. She had all the comforts of home, including a giant fluffy dog bed and a basket full of toys, but Sam felt better knowing the dog had some company.
Holy Spirits was a decommissioned church turned into a bar, complete with the original pews and stained glass. The entry still resembled a church vestibule, and Jo wondered how many people looked for the holy water and made the sign of the cross out of rote reflex before they entered.
Four of the pews had been turned to face each other, with long tables in the middle near the entry. Round maple tables filled the rest of what had been the congregation seating. The odor of grilled meat and hops had long since replaced the smell of candle wax and incense.
The bar itself sat where the altar used to be, spanning the entire width of the room. Jo liked sitting at the bar because the mirrored wall above the rows of colorful liquor bottles offered a view of the entire room behind her. Above the mirror, a colorful stained glass window lighted the interior of the bar with a subtle ambiance.
Jo settled into the black leather cushioned wooden swivel stool and ordered a lite beer and a basket of curly fries with mayonnaise. Sam ordered a Mooseneck, his favorite local beer.
Jo tapped her fingertips lightly on the smooth wooden surface of the bar as they waited for their beers. She felt awkward. She and Sam often stopped into the bar to discuss cases, but that hadn’t happened since the last murder case. Not since Thorne had come in and had the mysterious conversation with Sam. Jo just couldn’t figure out why that conversation would have changed things between them. A jolt of panic ran through her — was it possible that Thorne knew about her family’s past and had told Sam?
She had no idea what Thorne would gain from that, but it would explain the strange distance she’d felt between them ever since. And here she’d been hurt thinking Sam was keeping something from her. Maybe Sam’s feelings were hurt because she was keeping a secret from him.
Or maybe she was imagining the whole thing, because now, sitting here with Sam, it felt as if nothing was different. As if there hadn’t been an odd discord between them. It was like old times.
“So where do you think the camera is?” Jo asked Sam as Billie slid their beers in front of them.
“The other environmentalists said that the camera was so expensive he didn’t even want to stay in a tent for fear that the weather would ruin it. Seems he would have taken good care of it, put it someplace special or taken it with him all the time,” Sam said.
“If it was expensive, maybe someone else came along after the murder and took it?” Jo suggested.
“Like who? How many people do you think are running around in the woods in the middle of the night?” Sam asked.
“If what Harry said about the river being used to run drugs is true, maybe there’re more people out there than we thought.” Jo picked at the corner of her beer label with her thumbnail. The condensation on the bottle moistened the label, making it peel up easily, and she furrowed a line down the edge with her nail, the soggy paper plopping onto the bar. “Not to mention all those environmentalists. There could be dozens of people running around out there watching those owls.”
“Except that they all said they were in their tents,” Sam said.
“Only the one
s he was camping with. Plenty of others in town, and besides, people lie.” Jo slid her eyes over to Sam, wondering if he caught her double meaning. If he did, he didn’t show it. He merely sipped his beer.
“True. I’m sure Ray must have also had a computer. If he was a photographer, he would have had to use programs to manipulate the photographs. And someone mentioned he wrote articles.” Sam’s phone dinged, and he pulled it from his pocket. “It’s Mick. Maybe he’s got something new on Tyler’s case.”
Sam put his phone to his ear as Jo started on the fries that had appeared in front of her and listened to his end of the conversation. Mick was back in town and wanted to meet at Sam’s place later. It sounded like he didn’t have anything new to report but was zeroing in on something concerning the grandson.
Jo’s stomach sank. Tyler’s case had been open too long. Not only had the murder investigation been dropped, it seemed the stolen car investigation had been too, which made her wonder if someone higher up was pulling some strings.
Sam disconnected. “Mick doesn’t have anything new.”
“Maybe we should start looking further out for the safety deposit box,” Jo said. They’d tried all the banks, gym lockers and post offices in the county. They hadn’t been successful in finding the box that fit the key found under Tyler’s desk. It was time to to widen their search.
“Yeah, we probably should.” Sam swigged his beer.
“Speaking of Tyler, what about the new hire?” Jo slid the fries in front of Sam and gestured for him to have one. He shook his head, and she picked one out and dragged it through the mayonnaise before popping it into her mouth. Before moving to White Rock four years ago, Jo had been a ketchup girl, but up here mayonnaise on fries was a thing. It had taken her a long time to try it, and she’d been surprised at how the tangy mayo complemented the fries — especially if they were crunchy.
“Yeah, I know. I was too busy today to pull out those resumes, but I’ll get on it.” Sam’s voice held a hint of resignation. Jo felt the same way, but they needed to hire someone. And no more applications had come in, so they had to work with what they’d received. But maybe the guy that Sam had at the top of the list would turn out to be a good guy, someone as good as Tyler.
As they sat in the bar in the same stools they always had, Jo couldn’t stop remembering how Thorne had come in and pushed his way between them, talking in hushed tones with Sam. Thoughts of Thorne turned to thoughts of Dupont and his strange visit to the police station earlier.
“What do you think Dupont wanted to talk to you about today? Maybe it has to do with Thorne. You know how he always sticks up for him. And you were out at the construction site questioning Thorne the morning of the murder, so maybe you ruffled some feathers.” Jo was still put out that Sam had excluded her from talking to Thorne. Had that had anything to do with what transpired in the bar between Sam and Thorne?
Sam kept his eyes on the mirror, watching the crowd behind them as he spoke. “I don’t think it had anything to do with Thorne. It seemed like Dupont had something on his mind. He was acting nervous, like maybe he realizes now that he’s gotten in a bit too far with catering to Thorne.”
“That night in here after we closed the Donnelly case, Thorne came in and talked to you. What did he say?” Jo blurted it out before she could stop herself.
Sam turned sad hazel eyes on her, and her mouth dried up. She could see that he wanted to tell her. His mouth opened slightly, and then like a shutter, his eyes went dark. He looked away from her and picked up his beer and took a swig. “Nothing. What would I talk to Thorne about?”
“I’m not sure,” Jo said. Shit! Maybe Thorne had told him about her sister. If so, should she come clean now? Was Sam disappointed in her? But if she told Sam about her sister, she’d have to admit the real reason she’d come to White Rock, and then things could get complicated. Better to stay silent.
“Hey, listen. About looking into Ray Ingalls’ bank activity; you know how long it takes to get a warrant, right? So I was thinking you have that contact who looked into Tyler’s bank account. Maybe you could have him do the same for Ingalls. I mean just to speed things up while Reese is getting a real warrant. Might give us a clue which direction to look in.”
“Of course. I’d be happy to.” Jo swigged her beer. At least Sam didn’t seem angry that she’d asked about Thorne.
She swung around on her stool, putting her elbows on the bar and looking out into the room. At one of the round tables sat the environmentalists from the campground they’d visited earlier that morning. One of the girls — Jo remembered her name was Sally — got up from the table and headed toward the bathroom.
“The environmentalists we talked to this morning are here,” Jo said to Sam. “I’m going to cut one from the herd to see what I can find out.”
Jo slipped off her stool and headed down the hall behind Sally. In her experience there was a weak link in every crowd, and she figured Sally was it. She waited a few seconds and then followed her into the bathroom, pretending to primp in front of the mirror, which only managed to look contrived because Jo never primped.
As she waited for Sally to finish her business, she tried to smooth down her unruly curls, noticing a silver streak at the temple. When had that shown up?
Sally came out of the stall, her eyes widening in surprise when she recognized Jo. “Oh! Hi. You’re that cop from this morning.”
“Yep. Cops drink too.” Jo tried to act friendly.
“I hope you guys find out what happened to Ray. He was a nice guy.” Sally turned on the faucet and started washing her hands in the sink next to Jo.
“Did you know him well?”
Sally looked up, their eyes meeting in the mirror. “Not very well. I mean, I’ve seen him at a few rallies, but I didn’t know him that well.”
The quiver in Sally’s voice made Jo think maybe Sally had known Ray a little better than she was letting on. Or at least Sally wished she had. The girl finished washing her hands, turned off the water and then looked around the bathroom as if to make sure no one no one else was with them. She turned away from the mirror to face Jo. “You know this morning when you guys asked where everyone was?”
Jo nodded.
“Well, Peter and I were in our tent all night. That part’s true. But I think I heard someone unzip their tent in the middle of the night.”
“Who?”
“I can’t say for sure. But it came from the other side of the campfire. If you ask me, it was probably Summer.”
“Summer Solstice?” Jo asked.
Sally nodded, her big eyes growing even bigger. “It makes sense she’d be sneaking out, because I think she has a sugar daddy. I saw her going to meet him at that fancy hotel downtown one day. The Carrington House.”
“How do you know she was meeting someone? She could’ve been going to the hotel for any number of reasons, couldn’t she?” Jo asked.
Sally grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and started drying her hands.
“Sure, she could have, but you know how she is. She rails against anything that has to do with money. She’s built her whole career on ragging on the rich, and you know, she’s kind of famous. She’s been on TV and everything. But if you ask me, she’s a big fake. Some of us really do spend all our time and money on our environmental passions. We don’t have expensive cars, fancy clothes or the latest gadgets. We live frugally, preferring to spend money on saving the earth. She acts like she does, but did you see that expensive phone she has?” Sally threw her paper towel into the trash barrel forcefully and started toward the door. She paused with her hand on the handle to look back over her shoulder at Jo. “But don’t tell anyone I told you.”
Jo waited a few seconds and exited the bathroom, heading back to her spot at the bar next to Sam.
“Find out anything good?” Sam asked.
“Sally said she thinks she heard someone getting out of a tent in the middle of the night. She thinks it was Summer.”
Sam’s
left brow ticked up. He raised the bottle to his lips and took a thoughtful swig. “Summer. Now how do you think she figures into this?”
“Sally said she thinks Summer has a sugar daddy shacked up at the Carrington House. But she doesn’t seem the sugar daddy type to me.”
Sam snorted. “Me either. Maybe Reese will dig up something interesting on her. Maybe she had a beef with Ray? Maybe she does have a rich sugar daddy and Ray found out? We could ask around.” Sam’s gaze flicked up to the mirror behind the bar. “Looks like Jesse’s here.”
Jesse had come into the bar with Brian and two other guys. Their heads turned toward the table of environmentalists as they passed. The environmentalists stopped talking and returned their glares. Jo hoped there wouldn’t be a fight. But Jesse’s crowd turned to the right and took a table as far from the others as possible.
Sam caught Jesse’s eye and gestured for him to come over. Jesse nodded subtly, said something to his friends, and came up to the bar, pushing between Jo and Sam and leaning across the bar to order drinks.
“Hey, guys. I’m out with my friends. You know I don’t want to be seen talking to the cops too much. I have a reputation to uphold,” Jesse said. Jo figured he was only half joking.
“You can just tell them you’re trying to foster good relations with the local law enforcement,” Sam said. “I’ll even buy your drinks.”
Sam slid a twenty over the bar, and Jesse nodded.
“Okay. I guess that gets you a few answers,” Jesse said. “Shoot.”
“Did you hear anything about Thorne using the Hogback River to run drugs?” Sam asked.
“Honestly, man, I told you I don’t know anything about that part of the business. I just smoke a little weed, and sometimes I get a little bit extra for my friends. I swear I don’t know how it’s transported or where it even comes from. All I know is it’s hard to get lately.” Jesse leaned closer to Sam. “Word is once this owl thing blows over, the supply lines will loosen up again.”