Dust Up with the Detective

by Danica Winters

The color leeched from Engelman’s face, and his skin took on the color of a dead fish.

  “Something wrong, Mayor?” Jeremy asked with a little too much glee in his voice.

  “N-no...” the mayor stammered. “I’m fine. I...I think I may know who your brother is after all.”

  “Is that right,” Jeremy said, his voice almost a laugh.

  “I sold his neighbor, Todd O’Brien, my gun. My Glock22 Gen 4, like the one here, but I wholeheartedly doubt they’re the same weapon.”

  Blake’s excitement bubbled up to the surface as the mayor scrambled. Finally the pieces were starting to come together.

  “Why did you sell him your gun?” Blake asked.

  “We both belong to the same gun club, and we got to talking about police-issued firearms. He offered me the right amount of money.”

  “Do you have a certificate of sale?”

  Even though it didn’t seem possible, the mayor’s color lightened, bordering on translucent. “I...I didn’t get one. It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

  “You, of all people, should know better. Don’t you think you should have gotten a receipt, Mayor?” Blake asked.

  Some of the man’s color returned as his face tightened. He tented his fingers in front of him on the desk. “What are you saying, Deputy West?” His voice carried an air of threat. “Are you saying that you think I had something to do with the murder of Robert Lawrence?”

  “We are investigating all possible leads, Mayor.” The top button of her collar suddenly felt entirely too tight, and she reached up and undid it.

  “If I’m one of your leads, you are fishing in the wrong pool, Deputy.” The mayor thumped his hands on the oak desk. “I am an elected official. I am expected to hold myself to a higher standard—and I do. The fact that you would question my credibility and judgment indicates a strong lack of character on your part.”

  “You’re wrong,” Jeremy rebuked. “She’s doing her job. And her job has led her here. To your office. Maybe it was you who screwed up.” Jeremy’s face was hard, and his cheeks were red. He looked like he was struggling to keep his emotions in check.

  It was strange to watch the normally stoic detective fight so hard. In a way, it made him look even more handsome than he had before, but perhaps it was simply that he was coming to her rescue. As much as she didn’t buy into the heroic knight-in-shining-armor fantasy, he was doing a good impression of one.

  “The only mistake I’ve made is letting you in my office,” the mayor growled. “You have no grounds to question me.”

  “Oh, really?” Jeremy continued. “You are connected to the county treasurer, Roger Davy—am I correct?”

  “What about him?” The mayor sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, protecting his core.

  “I believe he is your brother-in-law. Yes?”

  “So what? I have family. Is this going somewhere, Detective Lawrence? Or are you just grasping at straws in an effort to rid yourself of the guilt of knowing that you are virtually useless in solving your brother’s murder?”

  Jeremy rose to his feet as the mayor antagonized him.

  “Why do you want my brother’s property, Engelman?”

  “It’s Mayor Engelman to you, Detective,” he said with a smug grin. “And I don’t know what you’re talking about. I barely even know who your brother is, let alone anything about his property.”

  “It’s strange that you were photographed near my brother’s property and you sold a gun to his neighbor—a neighbor no doubt you knew hated him. Then my brother is slapped with a tax lien. A tax lien that once again points back to you. You know the expression. If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck—”

  “I have nothing to do with tax liens.” The mayor tensed as some of his polished exterior slipped.

  “Then why are you the CEO of one of the largest investment companies that specializes in acquiring tax liens, Mayor Engelman?” Jeremy spat the man’s name.

  “Get out of my office. Now.” The mayor stood up and jabbed his finger toward the door.

  Blake stood up, grabbed Jeremy and pulled him to his feet. They didn’t need to kick the hornet’s nest any more.

  “Deputy West, it is my recommendation that you rethink your investigation,” Mayor Engelman warned. “And while you are at it, you should start considering alternative job options. You and your superiors may need to think about your long-term career goals.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Once again he’d screwed up. Jeremy leaned against Blake’s patrol car, staring at the sidewalk as he waited for Blake to get off the phone. No doubt she was calling her captain and telling him about the mistake he’d made in the mayor’s office. Why had he allowed the guy to get under his skin? He was better than that. Yet he had fallen into an emotional pit. Emotions had no role in an investigation—especially not when so much lay on the line. His clouded judgment might not only have affected the investigation, it may also have just cost Blake her job.

  She couldn’t lose her job. She had her daughter and her mother to support. It was all his fault.

  He kicked the curb, sending pain up his foot.

  “That’s not a soccer ball,” Blake said, making her way over to him.

  He pushed off the car and limped as he put weight on his foot.

  “That hurt?” she asked, walking to the driver’s side of the car.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Well, if it hurts, it serves you right.” She opened the door. “I thought you learned your lesson about kicking things in the mayor’s office.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  She got in the car and slammed the door. Apparently she didn’t want an apology now. It was funny. Earlier she had started a fight to get one, but now that he offered one up on a silver platter, she didn’t want it.

  He got in before she had the chance to start the car and leave him standing there.

  Her face was in shadows, but even somewhat hidden, he could make out her worried expression.

  “What did your captain say?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he had to do what he could to stop the catastrophe that could be coming.

  “You mean other than he thinks you should go back to Missoula before you start any more political wars?”

  “Sure, other than that.” He sank down in his seat, one motion away from ducking and covering.

  “We have twenty-four hours. Then he thinks the ax is going to fall. Either I have to find the killer or we’ll be out on our butts.” She turned to face him. “Why did you have to go in there with guns blazing?” She motioned toward the mayor’s office. “I had things under control. Instead you just had to confront him, didn’t you? Is that how you investigate things—by starting a fight?”

  “I’m a good detective, Blake.” He felt weak saying it, but it was all he could think of in his defense. “I screwed up. We both know I screwed up. But there’s no going back. From now on I’ll do everything I can to make this right.” Even if it means costing me everything.

  “I’m not sure what we can do, other than find the killer. Even then, it doesn’t mean that I will have this job by week’s end.”

  “Engelman can’t just fire you. There has to be a reason, besides pissing off the wrong people.”

  Blake laughed. “Have you been living in a hole your entire life? Sure, he can’t put the real grievance on file, but if he can’t find something that he can fire me for, he’ll make my life miserable until he gets what he needs. He’ll get his way. He always does. That’s why he’s the mayor.”

  Jeremy wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her everything would be okay. That he would fix everything. Yet he couldn’t. Not after what had happened. They’d both made themselves clear on where they stood—and how each of them didn’t have time or a
place in their lives for a relationship. If he took her in his embrace, he wasn’t sure that he could stop himself from all the feelings that seemed to flood through him when she was near. He couldn’t risk losing his heart to love, especially to a woman who, right now, probably hated him—and had every right.

  He thought about what Blake said. How the only way out was to solve the case. They had twenty-four hours. And he knew what they had to do. “Let’s start at Todd O’Brien’s. If what the mayor said was at all true, he’s the man we need to see.”

  “He was the next one on my list.”

  He wasn’t sure if her annoyed tone was because he had told her what he thought they should do, or if it was because he’d made another misstep in their investigation. Whatever was behind it, he had to fix it. “Did you get any results on the ballistics?”

  She nodded. “They ran tests yesterday. The bullet that killed Robert was definitely from that gun, but they didn’t get much on the fingerprints.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They found a single print from an index finger, but it wasn’t one they had in the database. The only thing the tech said is that, based on the way they held the gun, the person was left-handed and they had some kind of scar on their index finger.”

  They could use that. “Did they pull any kind of serial number from the gun?”

  “The ballistic expert tried to do an X-ray diffraction, but whoever took out the number had stippled the metal, effectively removing any trace.”

  There were not a lot of people who knew how or what kind of tools could create such a degree of precision in removing numbers.

  He thought about the gun. A police-issued firearm. He had a feeling it was chosen especially for this murder.

  Whoever did this was laughing at them.

  “We need to be careful.”

  “Huh?” Blake asked.

  “The person behind this doesn’t have respect for law enforcement. They think they’re above the law. They’ve killed once, and they won’t hesitate to do it again. If we get close, our lives might be in danger.”

  Blake shook her head. “Just because we made a mistake in there,” she said, pointing to the office, “doesn’t mean that you have to be dramatic. We’re fine.”

  Her words made goose bumps rise on his arms. Anytime he’d ever gotten complacent in his job, or thought he was safe, was when he’d found himself in trouble.

  “Think about it, Blake.” Her name felt like velvet on his tongue; it even tasted sweet. He paused as he just looked at her for a moment.

  “What?” she asked, locking eyes with him.

  “Who do you know who hates law enforcement and we’ve been circling?”

  “Todd O’Brien.”

  “Exactly. If we go out there, you need to be careful. Who knows what he’ll do?”

  “That’s crazy. I’ve dealt with him plenty of times. He’s all bark and no bite.” She shook her head.

  “You’re right. But this time when we go out there, it’ll be different. This time he’s the suspect in a murder investigation.”

  “He won’t know that.”

  “If he has anything to do with Robert’s death, he will. Don’t underestimate this guy. We have reports that he has an active shooting range. This guy is skilled with firearms. He has had run-ins with law enforcement, and you, before. O’Brien seems to fit the bill of our suspect. He’s has a need and certainly had the opportunity to kill Robert.”

  Blake gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white.

  * * *

  TODD O’BRIEN’S PROPERTY looked more like a hoarder’s hovel than the homestead of someone who was bragging that he was soon going to be a millionaire. The driveway was long and winding. As they drove farther and farther into the darkening forest, a pit grew in Blake’s stomach. She reached down and checked her phone. The bars flicked from three to none every few feet. Hopefully they wouldn’t need to call in assistance.

  Her bulletproof vest pressed against her breasts, chafing her underarms as the car bounced on the cobbles and ruts that littered the road. Todd O’Brien was a miserable, angry person and likely had something to do with Robert’s death, but she didn’t think he would try to gun her down. They’d known each other for years. Though, admittedly, things had been growing tenser between them ever since trouble had started to brew between him and Robert.

  She had never thought it would end like this—her investigating him for murder while being stuck in the car with her high school crush, who, once again, was completely unavailable.

  Todd’s house sat at the end of the long drive and was surrounded by overgrown brush. The weeds listed to the left like even they didn’t want to be associated with the place. As Blake and Jeremy approached the front door, they were greeted by the bay of a hound dog and a rattle, as it must have jumped against the chain-link fence of its kennel in the back.

  The entire place smelled like rotting vegetation and compost. In the distance, there was a small garden complete with a one-armed scarecrow that had almost completely fallen from his post. The stuffed creature looked like a drunken man, one arm sprawled over the edge of the wood, holding himself up from falling into the dirty reality that waited. Sitting on the post, above the scarecrow’s head, was a large raven. It watched them, its black eye catching the little rays of sun that filtered through the forest.

  Though she’d been here before, this time the place gave her the heebie-jeebies. She tried to shake off the feeling.

  Jeremy walked beside her, looking confident yet cautious as he strode up the steps and knocked on Todd’s door.

  “Hello? Anyone home?” Blake called.

  The lights were on in the living room, and she could just make out the back of Todd’s balding head.

  He turned and looked at them, then slowly got up from the couch and made his way to the door. The hair around his ears had grown so long that it had started to ducktail and made the bald spot on the top even more pronounced. “What are you doing here?”

  “Sorry to bother you, Mr. O’Brien,” she said, completely out of habit and training rather than out of genuine emotions.

  Todd grumbled something unintelligible. As he moved, his face caught a shadow that filled the craters under his eyes. He mustn’t have been sleeping lately, or else he had been drinking heavily.

  She stepped closer. The man smelled like last night’s booze and a week without a shower. That was unlike Todd. Every time she had been there in the last few years, he had been the picture of a man who had himself together. Why the sudden shift in demeanor?

  “How’s it going, Todd?” she asked, trying to lower his guard.

  “What do you care?”

  Jeremy leaned against the door frame and slid his foot into the house far enough that Todd couldn’t slam the door in their faces.

  “Ah, come on, Todd,” he said. “Let’s not be like that.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “I was just hoping to ask you a few questions about Robert,” Blake answered.

  He nodded. “I figured you would be up here. It was only a matter of time. But I’m telling you, I ain’t got nothing to do with his death.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say that,” she said, but she wasn’t really sure if she meant it or not. It would be so easy if this was their man. Everything could be solved, the mayor would be appeased and Jeremy would go home. Everything would go back to the way it was. Then again, she could never live with herself if she pinned the murder on an innocent man. “I know you had your fair share of problems with Robert Lawrence.”

  “You’re right, but that don’t mean I’m stupid enough to get mixed up in somebody killing him.”

  Jeremy tensed. “How do you know someone killed him? We haven’t released that information to the press.”

  T
odd scowled, revealing a large crooked scar along the side of his temple. “It don’t take no rocket scientist to see what’s going on here. Don’t you be trying to put words in my mouth. I told you. I ain’t got nothing to do with his death.”

  “Then how did you know it was a murder, Todd?” Blake pressed.

  Todd looked at her. “You know as well as I do, West. This is a small town. Word spreads faster than weeds.”

  “Then do you want to tell us about the gun?” Jeremy asked, taking the lead in the questioning.

  “What gun?”

  “The gun you bought from the mayor. The same caliber gun that was used to kill my brother.”

  Todd stepped back from the door until his body rested against the back of a chair. He reminded her of the scarecrow in the garden, one strong breeze away from being thrust into the dirt.

  “You’re right. I bought a gun from Engelman, but it got stolen.”

  “Is that right?” Blake asked, stepping in front of Jeremy to preempt his questions. “Did you report it stolen?”

  “I only figured it out yesterday.”

  Jeremy smirked as things fell apart for Todd.

  “I swear I didn’t have nothing to do with Robert’s death. We didn’t like each other, but I didn’t want to kill him.”

  “If you don’t tell us what you know, O’Brien, we’re more than happy to take you in,” Jeremy said, his tone low and threatening. “I’m sure forty-eight hours in the interrogation room will help you come clean.”

  “Wait,” Todd said, raising his hands. “I’m tellin’ you the truth. That gun was stolen about a week ago. I’d taken it out when—” Todd stopped and looked at them as if he hoped they hadn’t heard what he’d said. “Wait...I get it. Someone who wanted me to take the fall.”

  “When did you take out the gun, Todd?” Jeremy pressed.

  “I dunno, but that thing was taken.”

  “The DA is going to have a field day with you in court. You’re looking at a life sentence with a defense like that.”

  The blood drained from Todd’s sun-crisped face.

  “I didn’t do nothing. I’m a taxpayer. You work for me. How dare you come in my house and start threatening me?”