“Possibly. That would explain why Rob’s being so secretive, withholding information from us, like about Baxter Price. After the whole thing with Macavoy’s early morning ‘junk pickup,’ it made me start wondering.”
The thought that she might have witnessed the murderer in action punched her in the stomach. “Do you think Macavoy…?”
“He couldn’t have killed Willard Gray, because he hasn’t been here long enough, but he’s involved somehow. I can’t even talk to him about it, though, since he quit.”
“He quit?”
“Yeah.” Chris looked frustrated. “Called Dispatch, said he was quitting, and then he just left. He won’t even answer his phone—at least not when I’m calling him. I wanted to talk to him about this whole thing, plus now we’re shorthanded. We’re running from call to call like a bunch of headless chickens.”
“But…he can’t just leave!” Daisy sputtered. “He put a body—well, a possible body—in a squad car. Shouldn’t the sheriff have told him not to leave town or something?”
Amusement lightened Chris’s expression for a moment. “Cops don’t actually say that in real life, you know. Besides, Rob is certain that it was junk, not a dead body, being put in the squad. If Rob suspects one of us, it isn’t Macavoy.”
Daisy hummed, not liking that Macavoy could skip town so easily. Rob might think his former deputy was just hauling junk, but the sheriff hadn’t seen it like Daisy had, hadn’t watched the weight and movement of the corpse-like bundle.
She was still trying to absorb the possibility that a cop might have killed Willard Gray. Whether it was Macavoy or some other deputy, the idea was just wrong. The good guys should be just that—good. Not decapitating, cold-blooded murderers. Some of the deputies sounded better than others, but it was terrifying to consider that the very guy they were hunting could be the one who was supposed to provide Chris with backup on a dangerous domestic call. “Maybe the sheriff doesn’t think it’s someone in the department. Could he be trying to keep the information from some of the looser-lipped deputies so that it doesn’t leak?”
“Like Lawrence?” Chris said thoughtfully. “Could be, but we already only give him information on a need-to-know basis. After the last time his brain took a vacation and he spilled confidential info to Lou, Rob’s had him on a tight leash.”
“It could’ve made him paranoid about another leak—the sheriff, I mean.” As the theory took shape in her mind, she let the words leave her mouth unfiltered. It could be completely bogus, but Daisy realized she was slightly desperate to move away from the idea that a deputy was responsible for Gray’s death. “Or he suspects someone in the outer circle.”
“Outer circle?”
“Medical, Fire, Search and Rescue,” she clarified. “From what the training group said, it’s a complete gossip-fest. Is that true with the sheriff’s department, too? I mean, would deputies talk to the EMTs or firefighters about details on the case and not think they were doing something wrong?”
“Could be.” His eyebrows pulled together as he thought. “I try to keep my mouth shut around anyone who isn’t a cop—and not assigned to the case I’m talking about—but I know that some of the guys are a little more casual about it.”
“That’s so spooky.” She shivered, wrapping her arms around her middle. “One of the good guys might be a killer.”
Chris didn’t respond beyond a slight tip of his head, but his mouth turned down at the corners.
As she studied him—her handsome, wonderful, loveable Chris—she mirrored his frown. She hated this uncertainty, not knowing whom they could trust. “Be careful out there.”
Meeting her gaze, he held it for several beats. “Always.”
*
Only an hour had passed after Chris left when there was a knock on the door. It was actually more of a series of heavy thuds, rather than an actual knocking sound, and she pressed the intercom button tentatively.
“Hello?”
“Daisy, let me in.”
Her eyes widening with surprise, she pushed the unlock button. When she opened the inner door, her dad came inside, his forearms and wrists strapped with grocery bag handles. He was juggling a couple of cardboard boxes, as well, and she hurried to grab one from him. Daisy grunted at the unexpected weight.
Setting it on the floor by her feet so she could secure the interior door locks, she eyed the box, but the flaps had been folded over so it was impossible to see what was inside. As soon as the last chain was in place, she scooped up the mystery package and followed her dad into the kitchen.
“Hi, Dad,” she said, putting the box on the counter so she could help put away the groceries. “You got eggs! Thank you. I’ve been wanting to make some brownies.”
Bent over as he placed something in the vegetable-crisper drawer, he responded, “Figured you’d gotten low, so I stopped by the Connor Springs grocery store before heading home.”
“Oh, good.” As she reached over him to put away the milk, she craned her neck to see what vegetables he’d gotten. “Their produce is always so much better than the stuff from Melcher’s.”