“Yeah, that’s right. Your suspect didn’t have any extra money, but your cop did. Could that be drug money?” Holden asked.
“I don’t see what this has to do with Chief Mason,” Bev said. “If Officer Richardson was on the take, you can hardly blame the other cops in the squad.”
“Except Chief Mason has been doing things on the side to obscure the facts in the Richardson case, haven’t you?”
“No. Our fellow officer was murdered. Of course we’re going to look into who did it and try to bring them to justice.”
“Still not willing to talk? Then let’s not forget about the matter of the money you tried to launder.”
Sam’s brows creased. “What?”
Holden held the papers up like a trophy. “Through your own slain officer’s mother. You should be ashamed.”
“No, it wasn’t like that,” Jo came to his defense.
“So it’s no coincidence that Tyler Richardson’s mother got the exact same sum of money from the Fallen Officers Fund that mysteriously appeared and then disappeared from Mason’s bank account?” Holden Joyce pointed to a copy of a deposit slip on one of the papers. “Funny thing is, there is no Fallen Officers Fund.”
Bev’s scowl deepened the more Holden talked. She squinted at the evidence, suspicion darkening her eyes. “Now, wait a minute. This doesn’t exactly make sense. He wouldn’t launder money through his own bank account.”
“Maybe. But you have to admit Chief Mason is up to something shady.”
Bev pursed her lips, looking from Holden to the evidence to Sam. Sam could tell he was losing her support, but he had no way to clear himself.
“I think it’s best that the FBI takes over everything involved in this case,” Holden said.
Bev whirled on him. “Now, you wait a minute, Joyce. I’m in charge of the Dupont case. It’s a local case. You can butt out. I don’t like anyone horning in on my cases.”
Holden scowled down at her. “You always were hard to work with, Hatch. If you align yourself with Mason, you might end up getting burned too. Just think about that before you decide whose side you’re on.”
With that, he pivoted on his heel and stormed out of the squad room.
Sam turned to Bev. “Thanks a lot, Bev. I really appreciate —”
Bev held up her hand. “Shut it, Mason. I just couldn’t let that smug asshole take the case. But I’ll tell you one thing: everything he’s saying doesn’t look very good for you.”
“I know, but there’s an explanation.”
“Explanation or not, there’re been a lot of inconsistencies, and I think you might have pushed the envelope a few times on this case. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt just this once because somehow, I still think you’re a good guy. Not to mention I owe your granddad.”
“Appreciate that.”
“I’m not sure what Joyce is up to. I don’t trust him. This business about giving money to Officer Richardson’s mother doesn’t make any sense to me. Otherwise, I’d cut my losses and ban you from investigating this case right now.” Bev looked around at Jo, Kevin, and Wyatt. “Your people seem to like you and stick up for you. That says a lot about a person. But I’m not stupid, and I don’t like having the wool pulled over my eyes. So you’ve got twenty-four hours to come up with a real suspect in this case before I turn the spotlight on you.”
* * *
Kevin sat at his granite breakfast bar, fiddling with the thumb drive he’d taken from Tyler Richardson’s belongings as he considered his options. He didn’t like the way things had gone down at the police station earlier that afternoon. He’d wanted to stay and help with the investigation, but Sam had sent him home. He said he’d already logged enough time, and the weary look on Sam’s face had told him not to argue.
But now, sitting at home, Kevin worried. It appeared that Holden Joyce really had it in for Sam. And Kevin knew that Sam hadn’t gone exactly by the book on a few things. If Joyce wanted to nail him, he probably could. Kevin couldn’t let that happen. Especially because some things might be his fault.
If he gave the thumb drive to Sam, it would be an admission that he’d gone against him. That he’d sold out the department for money. Kevin didn’t even know if anything could be recovered from the thumb drive, but what if some data on it could help Sam? It might be the only way Kevin could make things right. That and the bloody glove.
He’d have to figure out a way to give it to Sam when no one else was around, because whatever was on it might as easily get Sam into trouble as it could get him out of it. He wouldn’t be surprised if Sam was still at the station, puzzling over the case. He could take a ride by and see if the lights were on. But if he did hand it over, he’d risk losing Sam’s trust.
Maybe if he told Sam about the bloody glove, that could somehow make up for the way he’d been going behind his back. He’d protected Sam by digging up the glove and putting it somewhere that might incriminate Thorne. Sam could hardly blame him for that, could he? Especially when Sam didn’t go by the book all the time himself.
It didn’t matter. It was the right thing to do. Kevin shoved the thumb drive in his pocket and headed out to his car. Hopefully, he could catch Sam at the station alone and finally get this off his conscience.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sam and Jo stood looking at the corkboard in his office, the smell of the greasy takeout burgers they’d had for supper cloying the air. It was dark. Lights from the shops sprinkled around the common glittered outside the windows. A few tourists and locals leisurely strolled the sidewalks. Inside, the atmosphere was tense.
“We must be missing something,” Sam said.
“What about the cat hair?” Jo said. “It’s the only physical evidence we have. Maybe we should get a list of everyone who got rabies shots for their cats.”
“It’s something to try, but I imagine a lot of people have cats, and not all of them keep them up-to-date on their shots. Won’t narrow it down much. I think we need to talk to Forest Duncan again. We’ll have to tip our hand and let him know that we know he was working with Tyler. That’ll put us on the same side. He won’t be as nervous, and he might have some information we can use.”
“Or he might be afraid the same thing that happened to Tyler will happen to him.”
“I still can’t believe Tyler was blackmailing Thorne all along,” Sam said. “I feel bad that we assumed the worst of him.” Sam pushed the stack of mail aside and leaned his hip on the corner of his desk.
“Who could blame us?” Jo asked. “Of course, now Bev Hatch will assume the worst of us.”
“Not us,” Sam said. “Me.”
“But Holden Joyce was onto that log forgery. So I’m in this as deep as you are.”
“No. I’ll say I forged it.”
Jo scowled at him. “I’m not letting you get in trouble for me. I forged the logbook, and I’ll own up to it —”
Jo broke off at the sound of the lobby door opening. “Please tell me that’s not Holden Joyce coming back,” she muttered.
“Hey, Sam.” Kevin’s voice drifted in from the lobby a few seconds before his face appeared in the doorway. His eyes flicked from Sam to Jo, showing his surprise to find them both there. He shoved something back into his pocket. His keys, Sam assumed. “I saw the light on and thought I’d stop in. Thought maybe you could use some help. You going over the case?”
“Yeah. Thanks for stopping in. I guess we might have to pull an all-nighter.”
Sam was impressed that Kevin had taken the initiative to stop in. It seemed he really wanted to help with the case. He’d changed a lot from the lazy officer who only wanted to work the minimum hours he’d been assigned at the start of the summer. Sam wondered if they should share more of the details with him. But not now. Maybe later, after the case was solved. Right now, he didn’t want Kevin’s mind clouded by all the subterfuge that had gone on behind the scenes.
“So what have you got? We need to get this FBI guy off our backs.” Kevin stared at the corkboard.