“Can’t say I’d be sorry to see the last of him. I hope it’s an idle threat.” Bev stuffed her wide-brimmed hat on her head. “And on that note, I’ll be on my way. It’s been great working with you folks, but let’s hope a case like this one doesn’t necessitate working together again anytime soon.”
As Bev walked around the post office boxes, Harry entered.
“Harry, good seeing you again,” Bev said.
“You too, Sheriff.” Harry smiled at Bev then stepped aside for her to pass. As she continued toward the front door, Harry turned toward them, his smile fading. “I came to apologize again. I really messed up.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Harry,” Sam said. “The EMTs said the compression technique you used on Kevin helped save his life.”
“Wouldn’t have needed saving if I hadn’t messed up and gone there in the first place,” Harry muttered. “How is Kevin? Will he ...?” Harry let his voice trail off.
“Don’t know. He’s unresponsive right now, but we’re hoping for the best.”
Harry bent down to pet Lucy. “I’m glad you’re okay, girl.”
“Yep. She escaped with only a few scratches on her nose,” Jo said. “Her thick fur protected her.”
“Did you get the evidence you needed against Thorne?” Harry asked.
“Didn’t get that. But we’ll keep trying. Kevin would want us to.”
Harry nodded solemnly. “I came with an invitation for you, Sam.”
Sam’s left brow ticked up.
“Marnie Wilson wants to take you to lunch and congratulate you on arresting Dupont’s killer. She said she feels safer now knowing that when she becomes mayor, she’ll have a good man like you watching her back.”
Sam shook his head. “I didn’t do it by myself. Heck, I hardly did anything. It’s my team that deserves recognition.”
“Oh, well, I’m sure Marnie wouldn’t mind taking everyone to lunch.”
Wyatt stood from his desk. “You guys go ahead. I have to run out to Rita Hoelscher’s. Something about an altercation between Bitsy and Bullwinkle. You know how she is.” Wyatt rolled his eyes and headed toward the door.
“See if you can bring back some of that fruitcake!” Harry yelled after him. He turned to Jo. “Jo, what about you?”
The last thing she wanted to do was suffer through a lunch with Marnie Wilson. “No, you two go ahead. I’ll stay here and man the fort. Reese is in class all day, and Lucy would be lonely with no one here.”
“Well, Sam, I guess that leaves you and me.” Harry clapped Sam on the back.
Sam frowned at Jo, looking uncertain. Jo waved him on. “Go. Bring me back a burger or something.”
“Okay. Ketchup and mayo?” Sam asked.
“Yep.”
“Good. I have to make the most of this lunch,” Harry said as he walked with Sam toward the front door. “The wife has me on a short leash. She thinks I’m only having lunch with Marnie. She doesn’t want me hanging around here and getting into shootouts. Now she’s talking about going to Florida early this year, probably to get me away from here. It’s boring. Nothing but Rite Aids and grocery stores. Sitting on the beach all day, a man could grow old before his time down there.”
Jo watched them leave then turned to Lucy. “I guess it’s just you and me, girl.”
Lucy wagged her tail happily.
Jo glanced toward the town offices. Henley Jamison had been thrilled that they’d nailed Alvin Ray. Maybe too thrilled. He’d asked several times if they’d found evidence of any others in the drug ring and seemed quite pleased they hadn’t. Could he be working with Thorne, just as Dupont had? If he was, Jo had a feeling that Jamison would know exactly what he was getting into, unlike Dupont, who had gotten in over his head and been killed for it. Jamison would be in the thick of things. Or maybe he was just a pompous ass.
Either way, it might not be so bad having Marnie Wilson in the mayor’s office.
Still, there was something about Wilson that set Jo’s nerves on edge. And it wasn’t the gleam in her eye when she looked at Sam or the way that look made Jo’s heart tug uncomfortably. Jo and Sam were just friends; she had no stake there. Why would she care if Marnie was interested in Sam?
Of course, Jo and Sam would still go after Thorne, no matter what. Thorne still had Mick’s knife, and even though Alvin was dead, Jo doubted that would slow the drug trade in Coos County long. Sam had already said that if Thorne thought that threatening him with that knife would keep Sam from trying to nail him, he had another think coming. Sam and Mick hadn’t done anything wrong twenty years ago, but Thorne had people in high places, and Jo wondered how he could twist the facts to make it look as though they had.
Jo’s thoughts turned to Tyler’s box, hidden at her house. The contents had answered a lot of their questions. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the photo of the beech trees. She’d compared them to the ones from her sister’s case, and they were a match. The police didn’t think the trees were any indication of where the serial killer had buried his victims, but Jo had other thoughts. And the breaks on the branches of these trees looked fairly fresh, not nearly thirty years old.
Even so, she had no idea where those trees were. Maybe Forest Duncan would be able to shed some light on that, but she’d have to make a special trip to his place to ask him without Sam knowing.
No, that wasn’t right. If she was going to investigate her sister’s case again, she’d have to come clean with Sam. She’d have to tell him everything, because he’d told her everything about the knife and what had happened with his cousin. She owed it to him. If she didn’t, it would drive a wedge between them, and their friendship would never recover. But that was only if she pursued the case.
She still wasn’t sure. Maybe dredging up those memories of her sister and her relentless, obsessive pursuit of that case wasn’t for the best. Sometimes you had to let things go.
Lucy trotted to the back door and sniffed vigorously at the crack in the bottom. She turned and looked at Jo, her lip curled.
“What is it? Is something out there?” Jo asked. She’d only seen Lucy curl her lip when there was a cat around.
Jo opened the door.
Meow.
A large, fluffy black cat, just like the one she’d seen at Alvin Ray’s house, peered inside, its luminescent green eyes full of hope. It looked ragged and hungry and reminded Jo of the way Lucy used to look before they’d taken her in.
Lucy growled and looked up at Jo as if to say, “Get rid of it.”
“Oh, come on, Lucy, can’t you see he’s hungry?” Now that Jo looked at the cat, she realized it probably was Alvin Ray’s. They’d never seen the cat after that night, even though they’d been back to the house several times.
She’d been worried and had even left a dish of food out for it, but the food had never been eaten. If this was Alvin’s cat, it was now homeless. Shouldn’t she take it in and feed it and at least get it to the animal shelter? Living outdoors in northern New Hampshire was a hard life for a domestic cat, and any number of wild predators would make a meal of this guy.
Lucy pushed against the door with her nose, trying to shut it.
“Just one little snack?” Jo petted Lucy on the top of her head. “What would have happened if we didn’t let you in?”
Lucy sighed and trotted to the opposite end of the squad room, where she plopped down, placed her head on her paws, and glared at them.
Jo felt guilty about the cat. It had been living a nice life until they’d shot up its living room and killed its owner. It was her responsibility to make sure the cat got to the animal shelter.
“Come on in.” The cat tentatively stuck a few whiskers over the threshold of the door, and Jo glanced back at Lucy. She didn’t look happy, but at least she was grudgingly accepting Jo’s efforts to welcome the cat. “I think we have room for another furry friend in here … at least for a little while.”