CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The Sheriff’s Department was thrumming with energy when she arrived on Sunday morning. In the parking lot out front, reporters stood vigil, waiting for new information. Veronica caught sight of Martina Vasquez, taking a few quick drags on her cigarette before picking up her microphone and smiling into the camera.
She wanted to talk to Willie Murphy. She knew it’d be a long shot. Now that Lamb had him in custody, a perfect patsy, he wouldn’t want anyone digging too much deeper. But she had to try, because otherwise, she was out of sources on the Gutiérrez cousins.
“Care to tell our viewers what you think of the sheriff’s handling of the Dewalt-Scott kidnapping case, miss?” A man with Ken-doll hair thrust a microphone under her chin. She scuttled backward, away from him.
“No, thank you,” she said. She turned where the door to the building should be and walked right into someone.
It was Crane Dewalt, pale and slouching. Behind him stood the rest of his family, and a fifth person, a short, stocky man.
“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Dewalt. Crane. Ella. How are you guys holding up?”
Hayley’s mother stepped forward and took Veronica’s hand. “As well as can be expected, I suppose.”
“Have there been any new messages about Hayley?”
“Don’t answer that,” said the man. Veronica turned to frown at him. “No offense,” he added. “We just want to keep the information very controlled right now.”
He was dressed in a rumpled button-down shirt and ill-fitting chinos—no tie, no jacket—and had a jowly, sagging face. The hair on the top of his head was thin and receding, but behind that it was curly and overgrown. A pair of thick-lensed glasses magnified his eyes and gave him an expression of mild surprise. More than anything, he looked like a particularly disgruntled civics teacher.
Mrs. Dewalt gestured toward him. “Veronica Mars, this is Miles Oxman.”
“I’m a private security consultant,” he said. A card manifested from somewhere in his jacket, the corners creased. GULL AND ASSOCIATES was printed at the top, above his name. She slid it into her purse.
“Mr. Oxman is helping us with the details of the ransom,” Mrs. Dewalt said, wringing her hands in front of her. “We don’t want to make any mistakes.”
Veronica shrugged the straps of her purse more securely into place. “So were you here questioning Murphy?”
Oxman’s wide mouth stretched a little wider, his jowls tucking back into a smile. “At this point, Ms. Mars, I’m not interested in who took Hayley. I’m here to make sure the ransom exchange goes smoothly and that we get Hayley back in one piece.”
“We can’t sit around hoping that someone will catch the criminals who took her. All we can do is follow their orders and get our daughter back.” Mrs. Dewalt’s gentle blue eyes were moist and tired. “Not that we don’t appreciate all your help. You did your best for us.”
“Unlike some,” spat her husband, speaking for the first time. “No offense, ma’am, but is everyone in this town a moron? How’d that idiot ever get elected sheriff?”
“Mike,” whispered Mrs. Dewalt, but without real conviction.
“It’s okay, Mrs. Dewalt. It’s not the first time someone has said exactly what I’m thinking.” Veronica looked at Oxman. “What about the Scotts, are you working with them too?”
Mrs. Dewalt’s lips went thin. “We talked to them about it. We thought it’d be easier, safer even, to have one expert managing both cases. But they weren’t interested. They said they had their own guy.”
“They say who they’re working with?” Oxman asked, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet.
“Um, the Meridian Group, I think? Someone named Lee Jackson?”
“Oh, yeah, they’re good. Lee’s got a great reputation.” Oxman seemed unconcerned with the competition. “Very good.”
A cry suddenly went up a few feet away. Mrs. Dewalt jumped, clutching at her throat. The rest of them whirled around to see what was happening.
Ella stood hugging herself, backed against a lamppost by the same plastic-haired reporter who had tried to chase Veronica. He waved the microphone almost threateningly at her. “Do you have anything to say to your sister? What about to her captors? How’s it all been for you, Ella? Are you scared?”