Sure, he felt guilty about that now, but he’d done all that before he knew the truth. He’d thought he was doing the right thing. At first, Kevin hadn’t understood who was behind the requests. He thought the FBI was investigating Sam and Jo. Kevin knew the agency didn’t always go by the book, so he assumed they were up to something shady and he was helping the authorities catch them.
Once he started to work with Sam more closely, he began to realize that was not the case. Whoever was pressuring him for information about Sam and Jo was up to something else entirely. He was sure Sam and Jo weren’t doing anything underhanded. Sure, they used some unconventional methods, but sometimes that was what you had to do in order to get justice. Especially in a town like White Rock, where corruption reached as high as the mayor himself. And after what happened at the stakeout, Kevin had a sneaking suspicion the orders from his contact were coming directly from Lucas Thorne. It was no coincidence that the drug drop at the river never happened after Kevin leaked information about the stakeout to his contact.
They waded through the knee-high grass. He’d have to check Lucy for ticks thoroughly later. He didn’t bother going into the building; they’d been over it many times already, and by now, the crime scene had been contaminated by the lowlifes who hung out inside the mill. The only things to be seen in there were dirty mattresses, used needles, and crumpled junk food wrappers. He could do without the stink of vomit, urine, and sweat. He figured Lucy could too.
Not to mention the piles of pigeon droppings and those noisy birds cooing and their claws scraping the rafters as Kevin tried to work the scene. One of them had expressed its displeasure at his presence by splattering a fresh drop on his black police boots. That stuff was caustic; it had taken the shine right off that quarter-shaped spot. Nothing Kevin tried could restore the luster.
Kevin walked slowly, his eyes scanning the ground. Lucy ran ahead, sniffing every tree and acorn and scaring off a few squirrels, which chattered at her angrily from the branches they’d taken cover in.
It was hot, one of those sticky end-of-summer days. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of Kevin’s neck as he swung his head back and forth, searching for anything that looked out of place.
He wondered if Sam would try to rule the investigation a suicide. He thought Sam might have a few reasons to do so. When Kevin had gotten to the crime scene, he’d noticed some discrepancies, like the smudge near the gun. He was pretty sure someone had moved it, and the only people who had been there were Sam and Jo … and the killer. But why would the killer move the gun? Just in case, Kevin had obliterated the telltale smudge with the toe of his boot when no one was looking. He didn’t want Sam to get into trouble.
The other discrepancy Kevin had noticed was the way Dupont’s hand had been curled, as if he’d been clutching something. Kevin had to wonder if Sam knew more about that than he let on. But Kevin had his own reasons for wanting Dupont’s death to be ruled a suicide. An investigation might uncover some of the things he’d been up to, like tipping Thorne off to police activity.
Passing information along wasn’t the only thing he’d done. His contact had asked him to look through Tyler Richardson’s belongings after his death. Kevin hadn’t found anything except a thumb drive. Now he was glad he hadn’t passed that drive along. Even though he hadn’t found any files on it, special forensics might be able to recover previously erased data. He’d kept it as an insurance policy in case things went south.
But what was on it? Could it be something that incriminated Thorne or something that incriminated Sam and Jo? Or it could be nothing. Better to keep it safely hidden away until his hand was forced.
He would never have to use it unless the investigation dug too deep. Yep, a suicide ruling was probably best. But Kevin had a funny feeling that not everyone might be willing to let it go as a suicide. The way Wyatt had been looking at those photos in Sam’s office told Kevin he might not go along so easily. And he’d asked a lot of questions about Sam earlier that morning when Kevin had been showing him the ropes. He’d also indicated he didn’t think that Dupont fit the suicide profile. Would he push back if Sam tried to press for a suicide conclusion?
Maybe that was just normal curiosity and Kevin was being paranoid. Still, there was something about Wyatt that tweaked Kevin’s alarm bells. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Maybe he was simply jealous that a new person was coming in just when he was finally making headway into Sam and Jo’s confidence.
No, that was stupid. Sam had been giving him more responsibility. He’d let him handle the arrest of that environmentalist guy, and they’d bonded at the stakeout. Plus, Sam had picked him to take Lucy to the crime scene and sent Wyatt to deal with a local dispute. They were building trust, and a new guy wasn’t going to jeopardize that.
Whether Dupont’s death ended up a suicide or not, Kevin needed to find a clue that would lead them to Thorne. Once Thorne was out of the picture, Kevin wouldn’t have to worry about his contact. And he was sure Thorne was the main source of the drug supply, judging by the generous amounts of money he was paid to tip him off about the police station happenings. Kevin was determined to make up for all the information he’d passed along, and the best way he could think to do that was to help nail Thorne.
Kevin whirled at the crunch of gravel to his left, his hand going automatically to the gun on his hip.
A thin old man with a smattering of gray hair crowning a shiny bald spot stood twenty feet away. A mixture of surprise and fear spread on his face as his eyes flicked from Kevin’s face to the hand hovering above his gun. Kevin relaxed. It was just a civilian dressed in a yellow T-shirt and grass-stained tan chinos. He’d probably been mowing his lawn, judging by the clumps of grass on his sneakers.
“Boy, you cops sure take an active interest in this old mill,” the man said.
“We’re investigating,” Kevin said. He was sure the man knew the mayor had been found dead inside the mill less than a week ago. It had been all over the news. “You live over there?” Kevin jutted his chin toward the neighborhood that he knew to be beyond the woods. If he lived there, how had the man seen him here?
The man shook his head and held out his hand. “Harvey Noonan. I live down the access road that way.” The man pointed toward the dirt entrance road to the mill. “House is kind of secluded. Saw the police car drive by and wondered what was going on. Neighborhood’s gone to shit with the drug addicts that come and go. And now a death.”
Kevin walked closer and shook Harvey’s hand. “You saw me drive by. You kind of watching the place?”
“Could say that. Can’t be too careful.” The man glanced warily at the mill.
“Did you see anything the other night or maybe that day?” Kevin asked. Sam, Jo, and Kevin had talked to all the neighbors, but Kevin hadn’t talked to this one. He was probably one of the people Sam or Jo had talked to, but it didn’t hurt to ask again. Sometimes people clammed up when they were being asked officially, or they simply didn’t remember things until later.
“Lots of cops coming and going.”
“You mean after we found the body?”
The man shook his head. “No. Not then, before.”
“Before? How long before?”
“Earlier that afternoon.”
Sam and Jo had had a meeting with Dupont that night, so they’d been here before all the sirens, but of course this neighbor didn’t know that. “You mean right before you heard the sirens.”