Down a Dark Road (Kate Burkholder #9)

She waves off the statement. “I don’t know what kind of fishing expedition you’re on, but I ain’t biting. You damn cops are all the same. Well, let me tell you something: Naomi King was a saint. She was a good wife. And a good mom. You got it?”

“Someone murdered her in cold blood,” I say quietly. “I don’t think it was Joseph.”

“Bullshit.”

I push the pie away and sigh. “I’m not judging her for what she did or didn’t do. I don’t care about that. All I want is the truth. And to get a killer off the street. You’re not helping.”

Finally, she picks up the box, shoves it beneath the counter, and glares at me. “She was my friend. Maybe I know something about her. Maybe I don’t. All I can tell you is that if she was keeping some secret, she wouldn’t want anyone to know. Especially the Amish. And those kids.”

I lean closer to her. “I didn’t know her, but I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t want her husband’s legacy to evolve around a murder he didn’t commit. Or for her killer to get away with it.”

She stares at me, shocked to silence. Her eyes sweep the dining room, as if checking to see if anyone is listening, then come back to me.

“I know she was seeing someone,” I say quietly.

Leah Yoder starts to move away, but I reach out and set my hand on her arm, stopping her. “I promise not to be careless with whatever you tell me. If I can protect Naomi’s reputation, I will.”

The woman eases her arm from beneath my hand, looks down at the counter. “I don’t know who it was. She never said.”

“Was he Amish or English?”

“English.”

“First name? Last name? Is he married? Do you know where they were meeting?”

She shakes her head. “She was careful. But I saw her getting out of a car once. That’s all I know.”

“What kind of car?”

Leah looks down at her hands, sets them against the countertop as if to keep them from shaking. “A police car.”





CHAPTER 21

It’s fully dark by the time I arrive at the station. The rain has returned with a vengeance, the weatherman announcing new thunderstorm and flash-flood warnings for Stark, Wayne, and Holmes counties. Welcome to northeastern Ohio in April. At least the media have gotten bored and left.

Parking in my usual spot, I use my jacket to cover my already-ruined hair and hightail it inside. I find my second-shift dispatcher, Jodie, reclined in her chair, her sandal-clad feet propped on the desk, blue-tipped toes wriggling to Phantogram’s “Fall in Love.” The sight bodes well for the possibility of a blissfully quiet evening.

She sits up upon hearing the door close and turns down the volume. “Oh, hey, Chief.”

“Looks like everything’s quiet on the home front,” I say, plucking messages from my slot.

“Just the way we like it.”

Skid is usually on second shift, but he took a couple of days off to see his parents in Ann Arbor. Normally I’d cover for him, but since I’ve been placed on restricted duty, Glock has stepped in to take up the slack.

“Any dry uniform tops lying around?” I ask her.

“Got a medium right here.”

“It’ll do.”

She reaches into her file drawer and pulls out a neatly folded shirt with PAINTERS MILL PD embroidered on the sleeves. “There you go, Chief.”

I take the shirt. “Since it’s just us tonight and the phone is quiet, you can turn the radio back up if you want to.”

She flashes a grin. “Roger that.”

In my office, I change into a dry shirt. While my computer boots, I call Tomasetti and tell him about my trip to Geauga County.

“You’ve been busy for a chief on restricted duty,” he says when I’m finished.

I recap my conversation with the bishop. “Naomi confessed to him that she was unfaithful to her husband.”

“That doesn’t bode well for Joseph King’s innocence.”

“It also brings someone else into the equation.”

“Do you know who she was seeing?”

“The waitress she worked with thinks it might be a cop.”

He sighs. “Well, shit.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“Look, Kate, I’m not saying I’m on the same page with you, especially when it comes to Joseph King. From all indications, he’s guilty as hell. He found out his wife was unfaithful and he killed her. Wouldn’t be the first time.” Tomasetti pauses. “Enter that second person and the possibility that he’s a cop and … maybe he’s not the only one who thought he had reason to kill her.”

“Tomasetti, this changes everything.” Even as I recoil at the thought of someone in law enforcement committing such a heinous crime, another part of me relishes the prospect of an alternate suspect.

“It makes the situation a hell of a lot more complicated,” he says.

My mind is already forging into a shadowy corner I don’t want to look into. I tell him about my trip to the Geauga County Safety Center. “The records clerk told me the records had been purged. Even here in Painters Mill, we have a retention policy in place. We keep everything for a minimum of seven years. Not just felonies, but misdemeanors.”

“I’m well aware of Ohio’s retention laws.”

“I know, but—”

“Kate, are you telling me you believe those records were purged or altered to conceal evidence? Do you think there was some kind of official misconduct going on? Some kind of cover-up or conspiracy to convict King?”

“I think all of those things are a possibility.”

“That’s a damn serious allegation.”

“I’m aware.”

“If we make this official…”

“We’re not there yet,” I say quickly. “I don’t have proof. I don’t have enough.”

“But you’re just getting started.” He sighs, an unhappy, impatient sound. “Do me a favor and stay under the radar, will you?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Kate, look, if this gets to be too much or your gut is making you uneasy about something, will you let me know?”

The burst of gratitude in my gut is tempered with the knowledge that he’s putting enough weight in the information I’ve unearthed to be concerned. “I will. Thank you.”

He shifts the conversation away from work. “You going to make it home tonight?”

“I’ve got a few things I need to tie up here first.”

“Uh-huh.” He sighs. “Don’t poke that stick of yours into too many dark holes. You may not like what runs out.”

“Hey, I’m on restricted duty, remember?” But I’m thinking about Sidney Tucker’s parting words. Walk away while you still can.

He makes a sound that’s part laugh, part growl. “As if that’s going to stop you.”

*

I start with the Geauga County Sheriff’s Department, collecting the names of current and past deputies, key administrative staff, and the higher-ups. I’m so embroiled in my task, I don’t notice the shift change when Mona comes in—early as usual—and Jodie goes home.

At eleven P.M., Mona peeks her head into my office. “Want a pizza, Chief?”

I look up from my monitor. “LaDonna’s is closed.”

“There’s that new place on Main. They’re open until midnight. The pepperoni-and-mushroom is to die for.”

“We’re speaking the same language.”

Glock comes up behind her. “Make it a large, will you?” He digs into his pocket and pulls out a twenty.

“I got it,” I tell him. “Chief’s treat.”