by L A Dobbs
The site was still under construction, and Thorne had a plush office inside the construction trailer that Sam had been inside only once before. The opulence had surprised him. Every other construction trailer he'd been inside of had been utilitarian and plain, but Thorne's was done up like the inside of a Las Vegas suite.
Before Sam knocked on the door, he made an inspection of the parking lot. There was no white Jetta. But, then again, if Thorne had people that worked for him doing his dirty work, they probably didn't also work at the construction site. He probably kept them far away from his legitimate business.
Sam looped back around. The sound of machinery grinding, men yelling, and metal beams clanging rang in his ears. Thorne's red Cadillac was parked beside the trailer on the side that was away from the construction. Thorne must park it there on purpose so it wouldn't be marred by a stray nail or get dirt on it.
Sam knocked on the thin metal door.
"Come in."
Sam opened the door and stepped in.
Thorne was seated at a mahogany desk. He looked tan and healthy in his button-down shirt, but when you looked closely, you could see the signs of aging in his dyed-black hair and slightly thickening middle. The surface of the desk was stacked neatly with folders and paperwork. A gold penholder sat on the edge.
He looked up, an immediate scowl crossing his brow. "What are you doing here?"
"Police business," Sam said.
Thorne stood but stayed behind the desk, keeping the piece of furniture between them. "We have our permits, and there's been no police calls, so..." Thorne spread his hands, adopting his usual cocky manner.
"I'm not here about permits. I'm here about Mike Donnelly."
"I heard about his suicide. What's that got to do with me?" Did Thorne's lips quirk up in a slight smile, or was Sam imagining it?
"Yeah, turns out it wasn't a suicide." Sam stepped a little closer to the desk. "And in tracking down suspects, we discovered that you had a beef going with Mike."
"I wouldn't necessarily call it a beef. I offered to buy his land. I was doing them a favor. They were getting older, and the farm is in disrepair. They couldn't handle it anymore," Thorne said.
"I don't think Mike saw it as a favor, though, did he?"
"He wasn't ready to sell yet," Thorne said. "But I figured he'd come around soon, especially with his wife and all those medical bills."
"So you went to his cabin to try to persuade him, and when that didn't work, you shot him," Sam said.
Thorne laughed. "Shot him for land? I didn't have to resort to that. All I had to do was wait him out. Those kids were champing at the bit to sell."
A seed of unease sprouted in Sam's gut. If what Brian had said about Mike's life insurance was true, they wouldn't get anything from his life insurance, but they sure would get a bundle from the sale of the farm. "But they wouldn't be able to do that until they inherited the land. And even though Margie didn't have long, Mike had been fit as a fiddle."
"Maybe so, but once a man's wife dies, his priorities change. Kids often have more influence."
"Maybe you didn't want to wait for the kids to influence him. Maybe you took matters into your own hands, knowing that Margie was going to die soon and Mike was the only thing standing in your way."
"Are you accusing me of murder, Chief?" Thorne asked.
Sam leaned over the desk and got right in his face. "Where were you at seven p.m. two nights ago?"
Thorne narrowed his eyes and stepped around the desk, so close to Sam that he could smell his spicy aftershave. The move surprised Sam. Usually, Thorne was weaselly, not confrontational. He preferred to do things behind your back. But the move told Sam that Thorne was confident. Why was that?
"Listen, Chief Mason. You can go around accusing me all you want. I'm not afraid, because I didn't kill Mike, so you can't prove that I did. But if I were you, I would think twice about continuing to accuse me, because turnabout's fair play, and if you run around town accusing me of killing someone, then I might just have to do the same for you."
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't think I don't know what happened twenty years ago. I'm in tight with Harley Dupont, and Dupont has connections. Connections that might even have solid proof about your extracurricular activities back then." Thorne smirked, turned, and walked back behind his desk. He waved a dismissive hand at Sam. "So if I were you, I would go about my business and look for the real killer before casting accusations and getting yourself into a heap of trouble you won't be able to get out of."
Chapter Sixteen
When Sam got back to the station, Jo and Reese were feeding Lucy pot roast from the diner. It was near quitting time, and the homey smell of dinner made Sam's stomach growl. He didn't have anyone at home to cook for him. His daughters had left the day before, and the fridge was bare. Looked like he'd be eating dinner at Holy Spirits.
Sam headed straight for the coffee machine. The meeting with Thorne had rattled him. How much did Thorne know about what had happened twenty years ago? How could he know anything?
Thorne was probably just bluffing. How could Dupont know anything? He'd barely known Gracie, as far as Sam could tell. Mick was back from his trip, and the threat involved Mick as well, and maybe he could shed some light on it. Sam took out his cell phone and thumbed in a text to Mick to meet him at Holy Spirits.
"There's over three hundred white Jettas the county," said Kevin, who was seated at his desk watching Lucy chow down. "We need something more to go on. Like a license plate or some distinguishing mark. Being shorthanded like we are, we don't have the manpower to run down all these cars in a timely manner."
Sam grimaced. Mike's investigation had taken his focus away from interviewing people to replace Tyler, but he was starting to realize the sooner they got someone in, the better off they would be. Sam couldn't let his personal feelings about "replacing" Tyler get in the way if being shorthanded impeded their investigations.
"I called Jesse to see if he got the license plate." Jo shrugged. "It was a long shot, but I figured I'd try. He didn't, though. He barely even remembered seeing the car."
"I checked out Thorne's construction site. No white Jetta there. I figured that was a long shot too, but what the heck," Sam said.
Kevin looked up at him. "You think someone that works for Thorne is the killer?"
"Not really," Sam lied. He hadn't let Kevin in on much of the investigation Sam and Jo had done on the side regarding Thorne. Kevin had been stepping it up lately, but he just hadn't done enough yet to earn that level of trust. "Just checking every angle. Thorne had an interest in Mike's land, so I had to check it out."
"Oh yeah. Makes sense," Kevin said.
"We need to figure out another way to find out who was with Mike at the cabin. We need to start retracing what he did that day," Jo said.
Sam sipped his coffee and glanced out the window, the brew turning bitter in his mouth as he saw Mayor Dupont coming up the walkway. "Here comes trouble."
Jo and Kevin looked out, each of them making a face.
"It's quitting time. I gotta run, or I'll be late for class." Reese pushed up from her chair and grabbed her slouchy hobo purse. "See you guys tomorrow."
"I better head out to Rita Hoelscher's. Nettie Deardorff got a chicken, and she claims it pecked a hole in her fence." Rita Hoelscher and Nettie Deardorff had a long-standing feud that had gone on so long that no one even remembered what started it. Usually the call came from Nettie, complaining about Rita's goat. Apparently it was Rita's turn this time,” Kevin said. He gave Lucy a quick pat on the head and followed Reese out, giving a curt nod to Dupont as they passed in the doorway.
Jo hastily picked up the spoils of Lucy's supper and scurried over to her desk. She usually avoided talking to Dupont because whenever she did talk to him, things slipped out of her mouth that weren't good for her career.
Dupont stopped in front of Lucy and tentatively stretched his hand out. Lucy sniffed. He petted her on the h
ead. "Good girl."
Lucy gave Sam a look as if saying, "Do I have to be nice to him?"
Dupont's change of tune toward the dog was suspicious. Barely a month ago when they'd discovered Lucy at a crime scene, Dupont had been angry to find the dog in the station. He'd ordered them to get rid of her. They'd taken her to the animal shelter. No one had claimed her, and when she kept running away, it made her unattractive for adoption. Sam had considered adopting her, but since he spent most of his time chasing down criminals, he didn't think it would be fair to the dog.
Reese had saved the day by pulling in some favors to secure a K-9 grant for the station, and they'd been able to officially keep her. When Dupont had discovered how much the townspeople loved Lucy, he'd taken all the credit for her being on the police force.
Lucy still seemed wary of him. Sam figured she was a good judge of character.
"I know you're investigating a murder, Chief." Dupont put emphasis on the last word, making it sound like an insult. "But I don't think harassing prominent residents is part of that."
Sam raised a brow. "You mean Thorne? I was just going by procedure."
Dupont's eyes narrowed. "Surely you don't suspect Lucas Thorne. He's a valuable member of our society. He brings jobs to the area and new tourists as well. All of that is good for our economy."
"Oh, is that how you justify it?" Sam asked.
Dupont's eyes flicked to Jo and then back to Sam. Jo was sitting at her desk, her pencil tapping on a pile of papers she was pretending to study while making it look as if she weren't eavesdropping.
"What are you talking about?" Dupont asked.
"All these rezoning laws that always seem to turn in Thorne's favor even though plenty of the townspeople don't want the deforestation to keep happening. If I didn't know better, I'd think you and Thorne had some kind of a deal going."
"How dare you! I am just being a good mayor and trying to help the town."
Sam crossed his arms over his chest. "Really? In some of those meetings, it seems like the town's asking for no more commercial building, but then the rezoning happens anyway. I wouldn't want anyone to look into those meeting minutes too thoroughly--they might get the wrong idea about you."
"Look into them too thoroughly?" Dupont's smarmy smile faltered as if he were just realizing maybe he could get caught at whatever it was he was doing. "What do you mean?"
"There are a lot of environmentalists that don't like what's happening here. If someone goes over the minutes, what the townspeople are saying is all in there. They might wonder why the mayor is allowing all this farmland to be moved into commercial zoning, that's all." Sam said it as if he were doing Dupont a favor by enlightening him.
"Well, I don't see how that's a problem..."
"And then if they looked back and discovered you had some kind of relationship with Thorne..." Sam shrugged. "Well, I'm sure there's nothing like that going on. Especially not with all those expensive commercials you have going. You must be busy with that, and you wouldn't have time to be involved in Thorne's business."
Dupont patted Lucy's head absently. Sam could practically see the wheels inside his head spinning. Dupont didn't need to say anything--the look on his face told Sam everything. But he'd already known Dupont was in Thorne's pocket. Thorne had probably given him money for the commercials, and Dupont had been too stupid and excited about the money to even check if those payments could be tracked. If Thorne was smart, he'd probably left a trail so he could hold it over Dupont's head.
"I don't think anyone would check on anything like that." Dupont straightened and glanced back at Jo. "And, besides, I'm not doing anything wrong."
"Well, that's good to hear, Mayor Dupont. Then you have nothing to worry about, right?" Sam asked.
"Right. Nothing to worry about." Dupont started toward the door and then turned back to Sam. "Just stay away from Thorne. Unless you have solid proof or evidence to accuse him of something, he can make your life miserable."
Jo looked out the window and watched Dupont walk back toward the town offices then spun around to look at Sam.
"What was that all about?" Jo asked.
"I might've pressed on Thorne a little hard. But I think he could have something to do with Mike's death." Sam glanced out the window. "Dupont's little visit pretty much proves what we suspected all along. Dupont is in Thorne's pocket."
"You don't really think Thorne is a killer, do you? I mean, he might be behind the killing, but he's smarter than he looks. If he is involved, he's probably arranged it so that the evidence can't be linked to him."
"Probably, but we're still gonna follow it, anyway."
"Speaking of evidence, I got one of my contacts back in Boston to check on Tyler's bank account." Jo tapped the eraser end of her pencil on the pad on the desk in front of her. "Twenty thousand dollars was deposited in there the week before he died."
Sam frowned. "Twenty thousand?"
Jo nodded.
Sam let out a low whistle. "That's a lot of money." He paced around the squad room, running his fingers through his hair. Lucy sensed his agitation and trotted behind him. He bent down and scratched her behind the ears. "Do you think he was on the take?"
Jo pushed up from her chair and paced in the other direction. She didn't want to think that. She'd trusted Tyler. "I didn't see any signs of that. Though he was acting a little secretive the last month or so, but I mean, we knew Tyler. He was a good guy."
"Do you ever really know someone?" Sam asked.
Jo turned and looked at him. Even though they worked together and trusted each other and she considered them to be close friends, she didn't really know Sam. Not the deep-down-inside Sam. Sure, she knew a lot of things about him. Like that he'd been married twice and neither of the marriages had ended well. And that he loved his daughters more than anything. And he loved White Rock and hated the way it was being built up.
But she didn't really know what was going on inside Sam. Sometimes she sensed a deep, sad loneliness that made her want to reach out and connect with him on a deeper level. Other times she sensed a dark secret that she might be better off not knowing about.
Then again, Jo had her own secrets, and she wasn't exactly batting a thousand in the relationship department herself.
"Maybe not," she said cautiously.
"I suppose there's a lot of reasons why Tyler might've had that deposit. Maybe he had a retirement account or something and cashed it in for Clarissa's treatment."
Knowing Tyler's self-sacrificing nature, Jo wouldn't have been surprised if he cashed in on his retirement income to help. "Maybe. I can have my contact check into that."
"If only we could find out what that key goes to, we might get some answers."
"I'm beginning to wonder if we want them," Jo said.
Sam pressed his lips together. "We might not like what we find."
"But I suppose we have to find it." Jo sighed. "We might need to widen the search area. If Tyler was trying to hide something, he could have driven miles away to open a safety deposit box, post office box, or whatever to hide it in."
"Right. Not a lot of time to get into that right now with this new investigation. I suppose that's all the more reason to get going on hiring someone new," Sam said.
"True." Jo seemed as enthused as Sam, and they both looked toward the corner where Tyler's old desk sat.
Sam's stomach growled. "I'm heading to Holy Spirits for a burger."
At the word burger, Lucy snapped her head up hopefully. Sam looked down and laughed. "Yes, I'll get you one too." Then he looked at Jo. "Do you want to join me?"
"Can't tonight," Jo said. "I promised Finn I'd go scout out new homes for him. But I gotta finish this paperwork first, so I'll stay and keep Lucy company for a while."
Chapter Seventeen
Sam left Lucy at the police station in her big fluffy dog bed. Lucy looked disappointed that she couldn't go with him, but the promise of bringing back a burger seemed to mollify her, and she had Jo to k
eep her company at least for a little while.
Holy Spirits wasn't very crowded, and Sam took his usual seat at the bar. Billie slid a Mooseneck in front of him, and he put in his order for a plain burger for Lucy and an Old-Man-In-The-Mountain burger for himself. The burger, which consisted of bacon, caramelized onions, and some kind of secret sauce, had been named after the outcropping of rock in Franconia Notch that resembled a man's face. When Sam was a little kid, his parents had taking him countless times to marvel at the big rock that jutted out from the cliff and could be seen from the main road. It was a big tourist attraction until it crumbled and fell down in 2003. Now it was just a big rock.
"Hey, what's up?" Mick slapped him on the shoulder and slid into the seat beside him. Leaning his strong forearms on the bar, he waved two fingers at Billie. Billie must've seen him come in and was already pouring the Jack Daniels into the small tumbler.
"Oh, you know, same old stuff. Murder, corruption, idle threats from Thorne." Sam swigged his beer and watched Mick's blue eyes widen.
"Idle threats?" Mick asked.
"I don't know if you heard, but Mike Donnelly was shot. I think it was set up to look like a suicide, but it wasn't. Margie says Thorne was after him for his land."
"Doesn't mean he killed him," Mick said as Billie slid the burger in front of Sam. "Though I wouldn't put it past him."
"Right. Well, thing is, I went and talked to him, and he made a weird threat. He alluded to knowing what happened twenty years ago." Sam took the bun off the burger and spread the sauce around just the way he liked it, making sure the brown strings of onion were spread out to cover the whole top of the burger. Then he put the bun back on and took a bite. It was juicy, savory, and tangy.
"You mean with Gracie?" Mick asked.
"Uh-huh. What else could it be? He specifically mentioned twenty years ago, and he mentioned it had something to do with Dupont." Sam took another bite and chewed while they both thought about it. "How could either one of them possibly know anything?"