“You recall it?”
“Not really, no. Just a general recollection. Talk. You know.”
“I’m assuming you weren’t a police officer back then?”
“No, not back then.”
“What were you doing?”
“Why are you asking, Detective?”
“Just trying to get a handle on the town back then, what people recall it was like. Were you around?”
Devoe smiled again, but now his expression had the unease of a man trying to get out of a conversation. “Like I said, when a fellow law-enforcement officer comes to town, I appreciate a courtesy call.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“You on your way out?”
“I am.”
“Will you be coming back?”
“I don’t know yet. I guess that depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“What the forensics tell me.” Tracy made a show of checking the time. “I got a bit of a drive ahead of me. Thanks for stopping and introducing yourself, Chief.”
She walked past him to her truck. When she backed out, Devoe remained where she’d left him at the water’s edge.
When Tracy reached State Route 141, she called Sam Goldman again. Adele answered, but Sam was quick to get on the line. “That was fast.”
“I’m sorry to keep bothering you, but I have another question.”
“No bother. Fire away, hero.”
“What can you tell me about Lionel Devoe?”
“He’s been chief of police in Stoneridge going on thirty years now.”
“What did he do before he became a police officer?”
“What all the Hastey boys did—worked for his father.”
“How many brothers were there?”
“Three, but the oldest, Nathaniel, died in a hunting accident.”
Tracy considered the information. “Any idea why Lionel left the family business to join the police force?”
“Nothing you could quote in the paper, but I can speculate.”
“Please do.”
“Like I said, the oldest of the three was Nathaniel. He was the most like his father, a hard worker with a good business head on his shoulders. I think Hastey Senior intended to leave him the business, but then Nathaniel died. Hastey Junior and Lionel weren’t like their old man, or their brother—neither had the work ethic or the brains. It caused a lot of friction.”
“They didn’t get along with their dad?”
“Hastey, the father, tried giving the business to Lionel after Nathaniel died, but Lionel nearly ran it into the ground, and the old man took it back. I imagine getting away from his father and the enticement of the police department’s benefits package were more motivation to join the force than any desire to serve the good citizens of Stoneridge. Down here, it’s mostly small stuff. We don’t get a lot of excitement unless one of the meth-heads blows up his lab. Basically, if you don’t screw up, it’s a job for life.”
“So it’s an elected position?”
“You could say that, but it’s really a matter of default. There’s never been a lot of competition for the job,” Goldman said. “And Lionel is tight with Eric Reynolds. That name goes a long way here in Stoneridge.”
“Eric Reynolds the contractor?”
“That’s right.”
“Doesn’t Hastey Devoe work for him also?”
“He does.”
“Did Hastey ever take over the family business?”
“Young Hastey isn’t like his old man. Maybe he had one too many concussions. Only chance that boy had of getting a college education was football, but he drank his way out of school and had to move back home.”
Tracy thought it all very incestuous, but having lived in a small town, she knew that friends helping friends wasn’t uncommon, and it could be nothing more than that. That didn’t explain why Lionel Devoe had been so guarded, however, and she didn’t for a minute believe he had his panties in a bunch just because Tracy didn’t drive to his office and curtsy.
“What else can I tell you?” Goldman asked.
“I think that’s it for now,” she said, though she had more questions now than when she’d started the day.
CHAPTER 17
Tracy arrived back at the Justice Center late in the afternoon, but she didn’t stay long. Kins had set up a meeting with Tim Collins’s divorce attorney in the University District. Faz had gone home early to celebrate a family birthday. As they drove, Kins filled Tracy in on conversations he and Faz had with two of Tim Collins’s coworkers and his supervisor at Boeing, names not on the list provided by Mark Collins. They’d also spent time talking with a person from Boeing’s IT department who had been tasked with downloading Tim’s e-mails and compiling a history of his recent Internet searches.
“They all said he was a good guy and a hard worker. Never saw him lose his temper and never had a bad thing to say about his wife. They said he’d seemed depressed the past several months and attributed it to the breakup of his marriage, but he wasn’t the kind to air his dirty laundry.”
“What about his relationship with Connor?”
“They said he was a proud father who talked about his son often. He kept photographs in his cubicle of the three of them, like it was still one big, happy family.”
“Maybe he was having trouble letting her go.”
“Maybe. The brother did say he’d become very codependent.”
“What about the kid? You talk to his classmates?”
“No real friends to speak of, according to his counselor and two of his teachers. They all described him as quiet and reserved. Said he doesn’t participate much in class or show much interest in any extracurricular activities.”
“Any indication he lies?”
“Nothing. I got the impression he’s one of the many faceless high school students who show up for class, do enough to get by, and leave.”
“So no problems?”
Kins shook his head. “None.”
“Anything on social media?”
“A few photos. Nothing alarming. We got the phone records. The father sent a text at 5:10 that evening saying traffic was bad, and he’d be a few minutes late.”
“Any response?”
“One letter. K. Overall, it’s been slowgoing.”
“Well, at least it gives you a little more time to spend at home,” she said, fishing.
“Yeah, there’s that,” Kins said, not sounding excited.
“Things not going well?”
Kins shrugged. “About the same.”
“I thought things were better after Mexico?”
Kins and Shannah’s relationship had hit a rough patch when Kins and Tracy were working late nights and early mornings on the Cowboy investigation; the case had taken a physical and emotional toll on everyone on the task force. When the investigation ended, Kins took Shannah to Mexico, without kids, and said it helped them remember why they’d married each other in the first place.
“It was, for a while. You’d think me being around more would be a good thing, but it seems like we just get on each other’s nerves.”
“What about?”
“Name it,” he said, offering a sad laugh. “It feels like she’s paying me back for being gone so much. She leaves to play tennis or go to her book club. And she’s at the gym all the time.”