“What?”
“Matches the one found in the car that was left at the scene when Tyler was shot,” she mumbled while munching.
Sam exchanged a glance with Jo. This was a new wrinkle, but what did it mean?
“That’s your officer who was killed earlier this summer?” Wyatt asked.
Sam nodded.
Wyatt leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. “Well, what do you make of that? What do you know about the car or the circumstances? Could this have something to do with the mayor?”
“We don’t know much. The state police took over the investigation pretty quickly, so we didn’t get a chance to look into too much.” Sam looked down at his doughnut. It was only sort of a lie. The state police had taken over. Sam had just left out the part about how he and Jo continued investigating on the side.
“So, his death could be tied to the murder of the mayor,” Wyatt said.
“We think Tyler stumbled onto some drug activity the night he was killed,” Kevin said.
Sam nodded. The car contained drug residue, and that was as good a theory as any, given what Kevin and Wyatt knew about Tyler. But from what Sam and Jo knew about him, his death could have been for another reason entirely. Sam decided to change the subject and keep the focus on the Dupont investigation. “Did you guys get any information from anyone who frequents the mill?”
Wyatt shrugged. “Not much. One of them did see a unicorn that night.”
“And another swears angels are flying around in the rafters,” Kevin said.
“Probably the pigeons,” Jo said.
“Right. I’m afraid we won’t get much from any of them. Not only are they hard to find because most of them seem to be homeless or get shuffled between friends and relatives, but anything they say isn’t really that reliable,” Wyatt said.
“I didn’t figure we’d get much, but we have to follow every lead. I was hoping one of them might lead us to whoever sold them drugs. Then we could find out where he gets them. Eventually, that chain leads to Thorne’s most trusted minion, and that’s the person who can give us the information to put Thorne away.” Sam glanced at the investigation photos tacked to the corkboard identical to the one in his office. “I have a few other ideas on how we can get that information.”
“I know you guys are focusing on the Dupont case, but I did get some other calls this morning,” Reese said. “Wyatt must have made an impression on Rita. She’s requesting he come out and solve a dispute. Nettie has retaliated with a claim that Rita’s chicken flew over the fence and ate all Bitsy’s food. And Hank O’Brien claims Bullwinkle ate his wife’s petunias and she’s running around in their backyard in her bathrobe with a shotgun, ready to shoot him.”
Sam blew out a breath. “We’d better get on that one. Her aim isn’t too good. Might hit the neighbor.”
White Rock and the surrounding region hosted a healthy population of moose, some of which occasionally strolled into town. The locals thought it was one moose in particular that they’d named Bullwinkle. He even had a Facebook page where residents posted sightings.
Now Sam was glad they’d hired Wyatt. They couldn’t ignore the local calls even with the ongoing murder investigation. Having another cop would help Sam and Jo to maintain focus on the murder.
“Okay, Kevin, you take Hank, and then clock out when you’re done.” Kevin was still part-time and had come in early to read water meters on South Main Street. In a small town, the police were called upon for other duties, and in White Rock, that meant reading meters. “Wyatt, looks like you’re up for Rita.”
Wyatt and Kevin got up to leave just as the lobby door swung open. Everyone turned toward the post office boxes. Sam figured Harry was making his return. Maybe he’d gone back to Brewed Awakening to get coffee for everyone. Sam certainly hoped so; the shop’s coffee was a lot better than the K-Cups. But Sam was disappointed.
It wasn’t Harry with coffee. It was Henley Jamison with a load of arrogance.
Jamison had a scowl on his pretty-boy face that made Sam want to punch him. “Good to see White Rock’s finest at work.”
Lucy let out a soft growl, and Sam tossed her part of a doughnut. She wolfed it down as she continued to eye Jamison warily.
Jamison didn’t wait for a reply. “I just got off the phone with John Dudley. He’s sure Dupont was murdered. I want this solved pronto. We can’t have a killer running around White Rock. When word gets out the mayor was murdered, people will be nervous. That’s bad for tourism dollars, and that might not bode well for me getting elected mayor. We need a quick conviction.”
In Sam’s opinion, making things look good for Jamison was a reason to not solve the murder quickly. He was the last person Sam wanted as mayor. But he wouldn’t stall the case because of that.
Sam gestured to the corkboard. “We’re working on it.”
Jamison straightened his red silk tie. “That’s all well and good, but I’m not sure you can solve this on your own.”
Jo scoffed. “Sure we can. We’ve solved three homicides already this summer.”
Jamison frowned as if he wasn’t used to people talking back to him. “This is a high-profile case, and there are only two seasoned full-time officers here. One is part-time, and another is new. I don’t want it to look as if I shirked my duties in providing the best resources. There’s a killer running loose.”
So that was what it was about: Jamison’s reputation with the voters. Not about finding the killer. Sam wasn’t surprised.
“I think we can do the job,” Sam said. He didn’t want to argue too forcefully about keeping the investigation to themselves because that might look suspicious. Better to play along and be wary of whoever Jamison sent in to help. “We appreciate the offer, but we don’t need the help.”
“I’m afraid it’s not negotiable.”
The doughnut bag crinkled loudly as Jo’s fist crushed it into a ball. Sam tensed, fearing she was about to throw it at Jamison.
Lucy looked up at her hopefully.
Jamison frowned at her fist. “I’m bringing in the county sheriff, Bev Hatch. She’ll be here this afternoon for a briefing.”
Jamison pivoted on his heel and strode out.
Sam glanced at the others. Wyatt looked mildly amused. Jo looked pissed. Kevin looked thoughtful.
“Damn, I hate it when outsiders come in,” Kevin said.
“I know Bev,” Sam said. “She’s a straight shooter, and I don’t think she’s corrupt. Maybe this will be a good thing. We really could use the extra help.”
“I don’t see how. Whenever someone new comes in, they mess things up,” Jo said.
“All the more reason to get this solved quickly. I have an idea where to start,” Sam said. “We need to find whoever is working closest with Thorne, and because there’re very few clues to go on at the crime scene, I’m going to start working my way up the ladder. I have an informant I’ve been cultivating just for this. I think it’s time to pay him a visit.”
Chapter Eight
Kevin and Wyatt took off, Kevin using the Crown Vic, Wyatt using his own car. Sam and Jo hopped into the Tahoe with Lucy in back.
“So what do you make of this fingerprint?” Jo asked as Sam pulled away from the curb and headed down Main Street toward the rolling layers of blue mountains in the distance.
“Not sure. We already know Tyler was mixed up with Thorne, so his death probably was the result of a drug deal gone bad. And the fingerprint belongs to someone within Thorne’s drug organization.”
“But who? If Tyler was with the bad guys on the side of the road that night, who shot him?”
Sam shrugged. “More bad guys?”
It was a puzzle. If Tyler had been working with Thorne and the blown tire was a setup, who set him up? Did Thorne have enemies Sam didn’t know about? And if so, did they have something to do with Dupont’s death? Sam wasn’t keen on the thought that he might get rid of Thorne only to have someone worse take his place.