Betraying Trust (Sam Mason Mysteries #4)

Jo nodded. “I didn’t see any indication he was lying. He seemed too scared. And besides, it was pretty clear he’s small time. He wouldn’t have any reason to lie because he wasn’t into anything too big.”

Sam had thought the same, but it was nice to know Jo agreed. He looked behind the vending machines while Lucy sniffed around the sides. Nothing looked out of place. Just normal everyday vending machines. Jo stood in front of them, looking at the selections.

“It looks like they have Mounds bars. Those are my favorite,” she said.

“I’m an Almond Joy man, myself.” Sam turned and glanced back at the empty parking lot as Jo fed in money for the candy bar. “Doesn’t look like this place gets a lot of use in summer.”

Jo reached in and pulled out the candy bar, unwrapped it, tore off the end, and handed Sam half. “I hope it isn’t stale.”

Lucy, who had made her way around the corner, trotted back, tail wagging.

“Chocolate is bad for dogs,” Jo said, her mouth stuffed full.

But Lucy wasn’t begging for food. She nudged Jo’s hand and then trotted back to the other side of the building, past the last vending machine.

“Wonder what she wants,” Sam said as he followed her.

Bathrooms were on the other side of the building, one door for men and one for women.

Jo cracked the ladies’ room door. “I’m surprised they don’t lock these in the off-season.”

Lucy trotted toward the men’s room, and Sam followed. Sam opened the door, and Lucy pushed her way inside as he fumbled for a light switch.

The bathroom was done in plain white tile. It smelled a little musty but was fairly clean, which surprised Sam. He would have thought that people would come here to party in the summer and leave a mess. Sure, there was some graffiti on the steel-gray stall dividers, and one of the shower curtains in the stalls at the end had been ripped halfway down, but otherwise, it wasn’t too bad.

Lucy had trotted past the showers, and Sam’s eyes followed her, his heart skipping when he saw what was next to the shower stalls. Four rows of small lockers, all with their doors open … except one.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” It was so quiet that Jo’s muffled voice could be heard even in the next bathroom.

Sam nodded. “Yeah. Lockers. And one of them has a lock on it.”

The door opened, and Jo came in beside him. “These bathrooms aren’t in full view of the parking lot. Someone following Tyler here might not have known he came in the bathroom. If they stayed in their car and watched him from a distance, they might have thought he was just getting something from the vending machines.”

Sam already had the padlock in his hand and the key out of his pocket. He met Jo’s eyes.

“Here goes.” Sam put the key in and turned it. The lock slid open with a click.

He removed the lock, pulled the door open, and reached inside, his fingertips brushing against a cold metal box. He pulled it out. It was a lockbox about the size of a notebook and four inches thick.

“Guess we’re finally going to get to see what Tyler had hidden away.”



* * *



Jo watched as Sam balanced the box on the sink and unsnapped the metal latch then lifted the lid. “Hopefully, there’s something in here that links Forest Duncan to Thorne.”

Inside sat a spiral notebook and some photographs. Sam picked up the notebook, and Jo took the photos.

On the second photograph, she hit pay dirt. It was Forest Duncan. “Here’s one of Duncan.” Her pulse picked up speed as she studied the image, but something wasn’t right. The photo wasn’t of Forest doing anything illegal, unless you considered crouching in the woods with binoculars illegal. It had a time stamp on the corner, and she shuffled through the others and came to another photo with the same time stamp, but this one was of Scott Elliott unloading boxes from the back of a truck. Drugs?

She put the two photos side by side. They were grainy, and it was hard to make out, but it looked as if the two had been taken in the same spot, just from different vantage points. Had Forest Duncan been spying on Scott Elliott? And why take a photo?

Presumably, Tyler had put the photo in the box. Why would he want a photo of Forest Duncan spying on Thorne’s henchman? Was Tyler trying to prove to Thorne that Duncan was trying to get evidence against him? Why keep it in the box? Why not show Thorne right away? And if Tyler had let Thorne go on all those police calls, didn’t that mean they were working together?

“Something doesn’t add up.” Sam frowned down at the notebook.

“Yeah. Tell me about it. Look at these photos. It’s almost as if Tyler was spying on Forest Duncan. Or Thorne.” Jo showed Sam the images.

“Yeah. This notebook is in some kind of shorthand or code, but there’s definitely dates, and I think the coded parts are locations.”

Jo studied the notebook over his shoulder. “Some of those dates are days that Tyler let Forest off on some of those police calls.”

“No kidding. I’m getting a funny feeling about this.”

“Me too.” As Jo looked further into the pile of photos, her unease grew. And then she spotted something shockingly familiar. Beech trees with the lower branches broken, just like those she’d seen near the graves linked to her sister’s case.

She struggled to breathe as she stared at the photo. It couldn’t be. After years of looking, was this finally the spot? Had Tyler captured this inadvertently while spying on Thorne? But where exactly was it?

She looked for landmarks. Nothing. It was just another photo of Scott Elliott. This time, he was carrying a crate in the woods. The more she looked at it, the less sure she was that the beech trees were even marked in the same style. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. Maybe it was —

“What the heck?” Sam’s voice interrupted her thoughts. He’d grabbed some papers from the bottom of the box, and he handed them to Jo. She dropped the photo back into the box before taking the papers.

Her heart twisted as she read them. They were blackmail letters demanding money. She glanced up at Sam. “Tyler was blackmailing someone?”

“Yeah. Thorne. And I think I know why.” Sam handed her another piece of paper—DNA test results. Jo couldn’t believe her eyes. The scrap that Dupont had clutched in his dying hand hadn’t told the whole story. Yes, Thorne was the father of a Richardson, but not Tyler Richardson. Thorne was the father of Tyler’s sister, Clarissa.

They’d had it all wrong.

“The blackmail was for her treatments. That’s where the large deposit of money in his bank account came from.”

“And earlier deposits, I suspect. We never looked any further into his account,” Sam said. “I always wondered how he afforded those expensive treatments for Clarissa, even after moving in and consolidating bills with his mother. Cops don’t make very much.”

“But what about all these photos and the dates and locations recorded in the notebook?” Jo asked. “Why would any of this intimidate Thorne? Why would he care if anyone knew he was Clarissa’s father?”

“Well, Harry did say that Thorne’s wife was a force to be reckoned with, and her family is quite wealthy. That’s how Thorne was financed.” Sam thought for a minute. “Clarissa was much younger than Tyler. Thorne would have been married when she was born, so he must have had an affair with Mrs. Richardson.”

“Seriously?” Jo made a face. “You expect me to believe Thorne would be afraid to let his wife find out he had an affair that resulted in a child?”

“Maybe not so much the wife, but the wife’s family money. Didn’t Harry say something about a prenup?”

“But wouldn’t Thorne make plenty with his drug trade? Why would he care about the wife’s money?”

“Maybe he launders the drug money through the properties he’s building. If the wife’s family financed it, they could pull the rug out from under him. Without that, he’d have no way to launder the drug money,” Sam said. “You have to admit this explains a lot. It’s all here. And Thorne did give Tyler money.”

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