“Yes. Your inquisitive nature drives you to research and learn, and that’s good. What you lack is the experience and maturity to understand that this kind of information is power, and there are people in power who won’t think twice about using it the wrong way.”
He scoops the eggs onto two plates and brings them to the table. “Like the person who keeps calling my phone. I don’t want to talk to him. But as you can see, he’s not giving up. He thinks he can badger me into picking up my phone, otherwise he’d stop trying.”
Victor’s words spark something. People in power who won’t think twice about using it the wrong way is a tremendous thought. I scoop up a bite of egg and nibble it off the tines of my fork as the odd pieces of my evidence suddenly start to come together in my head.
“What’s wrong?” Victor asks.
I’m distracted and thinking this through. But because I don’t answer him, he picks up his plate and inspects the eggs, as if there’s something wrong with them.
“I have a question,” I finally say. “What did Sydney mean when she said the chief prefers ‘old-school’ police work?”
Victor takes a couple of bites of egg, scraping the extra-gooey cheese off his fork with his teeth. “I think what she means is that Charles isn’t really up on the latest forensic science tech. She said ‘old-school,’ and by that I think she means ‘old-fashioned.’”
“But could there be a reason why he would be against forensic science, like maybe a reason he would get super upset over having a lab here in Iron Rain?” I scoop up more egg onto my fork. These eggs look simple, but Victor’s right, the taste is amazing.
He gives me a questioning look. “I can’t figure out where you’re going with this, so do me a favor and just tell me?”
I set my plate aside. “Okay. Total trust. I wasn’t investigating my mother’s murder, I was looking into who killed Miss P.”
Victor’s head snaps up.
“I felt responsible for what happened to her and, you know, for getting Journey involved, too.”
“From what I understand, Journey got himself involved.” Victor finishes his eggs and sets his plate aside. “He was there on his own accord. But when you say investigate, what do you mean exactly?”
“We’ve been gathering clues,” I say. “Miss P was going to run DNA tests for me and Journey and we think this is why she was killed. Here’s the thing—so far all of our evidence points to only one person.”
Victor ferries our plates to the sink and returns to the table. “Who would that be?”
“Don’t laugh or make me feel weird, but … I’m just going to say it. Chief Culson.”
I spread my hands out on the table. It sounds even more ridiculous when I say it out loud.
“I have evidence that links Chief Culson and Miss P.”
30
You won’t go wrong if you always follow the evidence.
—VICTOR FLEMMING
For the first time Victor gives me a look of total disbelief. “Linking Chuck and your teacher doesn’t mean anything. They’re two adults. I’m sure they knew each other. They might even have been dating.”
The thought of adorable Miss P dating droopy Chief Culson is not a pretty one. “What if I can prove he was at her house the night she was killed?”
Victor looks skeptical.
I pause to wipe off the table. “Alright, I know it sounds crazy, and I’ll admit when I was gathering the clues they seemed more like accidents. But when you said that about a person in authority using their power the wrong way … it triggered something for me. Think about it. The chief is a person in a position of power.”
Victor sneers. “I wouldn’t exactly call Iron Rain a power center.”
“But did you know that Miss P was working to create a forensic lab here, in Iron Rain?”
Victor frowns. “Actually, that wasn’t mentioned in regard to her murder.”
“Well, she was. She wanted the school and the police department to share it. I assumed the chief was psyched about it—I mean, who wouldn’t be? But thinking back to what Sydney said, maybe he wasn’t. And, he is a person in power.”
Victor makes a calming gesture. “Don’t get hung up on the power thing. What I said was just something you say. I don’t see Chuck having any kind of motive—or the balls, for that matter—to murder anyone.”
“But in your books you always say ‘you’ve got to go…’”
“‘… where the evidence takes you.’” Victor slaps his hands on the table. “Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
I grab my mom’s evidence box. “What should I do with this?”
Victor thinks for a moment. “Put it back in the attic … but just for now. Okay?”