Jo stood, brushing off her jeans. Orange fur clung to her knee where the cat had rubbed against it. “Stray cat I’ve been feeding.”
Lucy trotted over, wagging her tail, happy to see Jo, then stopped short at sniffing her knee where the cat had been rubbing. She looked up at Jo, her forehead wrinkled and her upper lip curled.
“I guess Lucy doesn’t like cats,” Jo said.
“Probably jealous,” Sam answered.
Jo bent down and scratched behind Lucy’s ears. “Don’t worry. You’re still my favorite.” She tilted her head to look up at Sam. “So what brings you by? Break in the case?”
Sam shook his head. “Nah, I just wanted to get your take on Holden Joyce.”
Jo sighed and stood. “For that, I think we’re going to need some beer.”
Sam followed her to the door. Lucy had beat them to it and was standing at the door, tail wagging, casting disapproving glances at the empty cat bowl. She didn’t stray over to the bowl, though. Most likely, she was anticipating the bacon-flavored dog treats that Jo kept in her cupboard.
As they passed through the living room, Jo gestured toward the couch. “Have a seat. I’ll get the beer.” She proceeded to the kitchen, pulled two beers from the refrigerator, and tossed two treats to Lucy, who caught them in midair.
When she returned to the living room, Jo found Sam perched uncomfortably on the edge of her white-and-pink floral sofa, looking like a child in his Aunt May’s fancy living room. Jo almost laughed. Sam definitely looked out of place amidst the shabby-chic muted-florals-and-white-paint decor. He was more of a camouflage-pattern-and-natural-wood-stain kind of guy.
“So, Holden Joyce. What do you think?” Sam asked.
“Hate him. You?”
“Yeah, pretty much.” Sam swigged his beer.
Jo leaned back in her chair. “I don’t think he likes you very much either. Do you think he really has something on you? I mean, I know about the knife, but Thorne has that, so …” Jo let her voice trail off. She’d never asked the details about what had happened back then, and Sam had never volunteered. Was that why Sam had come over? He didn’t usually just drop by. Maybe he wanted to give her the full story, seeing as Joyce might try to use it against him.
Her eyes drifted toward the bedroom, thoughts of the notes of her sister’s disappearance crowding her mind. If Sam was taking her further into his confidence, should she do the same? She could show it all to Sam right now. He might even have some ideas.
She knew Sam would try to help, but she didn’t want to distract from the case they were working on. Besides, she was letting her past go. She’d buried her notes at the bottom of a drawer, and that was where they were going to stay. They had more important things to work on.
Sam took a swig of his beer and sat back, his thumbnail scratching at the label as he talked. “Back when that happened to my cousin, she didn’t exactly get the justice we were hoping. It was rich kids who did it. Not just one, a bunch of them.” Sam paused and looked out the window, the pain he felt for his cousin flickering in his eyes. “Anyway, those kids had parents with deep pockets and attitudes that they could get away with anything. Some of the ringleaders were gonna get off. We went down to try to talk to the weakest link to make sure that the right people were getting punished.”
Jo leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. What, exactly, had Sam and Mick done? “And what happened?”
“Nothing. We talked to him. He was scared.”
“So how does that translate to the FBI threatening you today?”
“Next day, the kid turned up dead.”
Jo relaxed back in her chair. “But the last time you saw him, he was alive?”
Sam nodded and reached down to bury his fingers in Lucy’s fur. “He was gonna tell the truth about who the ringleader was. He ended up taking the brunt of the blame, even though he was dead.”
Jo pressed her lips together. “That sucks.” Now she could see how Sam would have been driven to try to make sure the truth came out, even if it might have taken unorthodox means. He was all about justice, and she knew sometimes following the law didn’t result in justice. She couldn’t blame him.
“Anyway, seems like Holden Joyce has some assumptions about what went on back then.”
“And Thorne has a knife with blood on it that might be misinterpreted as a murder weapon.”
Sam nodded. “But there’s nothing we can do about that now. We need to wrap up this case quick, before Holden Joyce has an excuse to dig deeper.”
“Do you think Joyce could be working with Thorne?” Jo asked.
“I don’t know. Either he’s got it in for me, or he’s working with Thorne or he has another agenda we don’t know about.”
Jo looked out the window. The cat lurked at the edge of the woods, crouched down, peering through the trees toward the house. Maybe she would put another bowl of food out for it after Lucy left. She hoped Lucy didn’t really hate cats that much because if she adopted it, she didn’t want it to be problematic for Lucy to visit.
“What about the FBI looking into Tyler’s case?” Jo asked.
Sam blew out a breath. “Yeah, that could get dicey. But once we find Dupont’s killer, they’ll probably back off on that.”
“Okay, we just need to up our game. What else can we do to prove that Forest Duncan is the distributor?” Jo asked.
“I’ve got Mick looking into the grandson. If he’s involved, he probably knew the players. I figure if the grandson can place Duncan with Scott Elliott, then maybe we can get probable cause to do more searching.” Sam sipped his beer. “And Bev is looking into his finances. If we find something shady in there, then we can look further.”
“Yeah. Luckily, Bev seems to be on our side,” Jo said.
“She is now. Mostly, I think she’s on the side of justice. I get the impression she doesn’t like Holden Joyce very much, but if she suspects what Holden is saying about me is true, she’ll switch sides pretty quick.”
Sam was right. Jo got the impression Bev didn’t put up with anyone trying to con her. Hopefully, she wouldn’t find out what they’d done for Tyler, or they might end up with a powerful enemy who could make future investigations difficult. So, they had Holden Joyce against them and Bev tentatively on their side. “What do you think about Kevin and Wyatt? Should we bring them in on everything we know?”
“Maybe Kevin. I got the impression he was stalling for us with that comment he made about Mick’s truck.”
Jo nodded. She’d thought the same thing. Kevin was turning out to be a valuable ally.
“But I still don’t want to include them. Wyatt’s too new. I don’t have a good feel for him yet, and Kevin, well, sometimes the less you know, the better.” Sam chugged down more beer. “Maybe in time, we can let Kevin know what we know, but this could get dicey, and it doesn’t seem fair to get him in too deep.”
“Hopefully, after this case is over, there won’t be anything to let him in on. All this Tyler stuff will be behind us.”
“One can only hope,” Sam said. “In the meantime, we need to speed things up. We don’t want to give Holden Joyce any extra time to dig something up.”
Chapter Nineteen
The next day, Sam found himself alone in his office as he contemplated the case. His cell phone, set to vibrate, sat on the desk, awaiting Mick’s text. Mick had told Sam he was going to work on Barbara Bartles’s grandson. He was positive the guy knew something about who had stolen the car that was at the scene of Tyler’s death. Sam suspected Mick’s idea of work included a bottle of whiskey. He probably wouldn’t be up this early.
Sam eyed the stack of mail on the corner of his desk. He’d been too busy to sort through it. There was usually nothing important in the stack anyway.
Wyatt and Kevin had both gone out on local calls. Even with the murder investigation, the misdemeanors and neighbor disputes still needed tending. Jo was taking care of a fender bender by the Sacagewassett River. Sam was enjoying the peace and quiet—until a shadow in the form of Holden Joyce appeared at his door.