Over at the receptionist desk, Reese was taking care of the usual day’s business. In a small-town police station, you had to wear a lot of hats, and Reese handled most of the administrative activities. Dog licenses, collecting tax and sewer bills, issuing permits. Right now, she was issuing a yard-sale permit to Bev Porterfield.
"No, Mrs. Porterfield. You can’t sell your husband."
"Why not? He’s about as useful as that old 8-track player I found in the garage. I’m putting that out for sale."
"I’m sure you’d miss him if someone snapped him up. You wouldn’t want Dottie Aldrich to get him, would you?"
Jo couldn’t see Bev from where she sat, but she almost laughed out loud picturing the look that must have been on Bev’s face as she thought about her husband hooking up with Dottie. Dottie was known as somewhat of a gold digger in the senior-citizen circles.
Reese continued, "Anyway, I don’t really need to know the exact items you are going to sell to issue the permit. I just need the dates."
"You sure? I’m going to have a lot of old clothes and some antiques from my mother. In fact, I’m going to have her old china set, and the bassinet from Louis and…"
Jo tuned Bev Porterfield’s words out as she listed a plethora of items she would have at her yard sale. Jo could just picture Reese rolling her eyes. She let it turn into background noise as her mind tossed around the various scenarios that could have led to Lynn Palmer’s death.
Her thoughts turned to Lynn’s friends at the campsite. Most of them were definitely showing signs of hiding something. It could be that they were just nervous. Even innocent people got that way when a close friend was murdered. But Jo had a feeling that some of them, especially Noah, weren’t telling the whole truth. The best bet was to separate them and talk to them individually—that was when the truth usually came out.
Her gaze drifted to the window. The maple and oak trees were sprouting fresh new green leaves. Birds hopped from branch to branch, swooping to the ground to grab up an occasional seed from the grass. In the distance, layers of hazy blue mountains contrasted with the white spire of the church at the end of Main Street. It was an idyllic small-town scene.
Ruining the pleasant scene, however, was Mayor Dupont striding down the sidewalk and into the town’s one fine-dining establishment, Lago. Nothing but the best for the mayor.
He stopped at the door, plastering a fake smile on his face and greeting someone walking down the sidewalk. The smile dropped from his lips as the person passed, and he opened the door and pushed his way inside, cutting off a tourist who had been angling for the restaurant. Typical.
What wasn’t typical was what she saw right after that. The cherry-red Cadillac pulled to the curb, and Lucas Thorne stepped out. He checked his watch—a Rolex, she knew from dealing with him previously—looked toward the town offices, and then glanced into the restaurant before darting inside.
Was he meeting with Dupont? Or was her imagination just on overdrive? The restaurant was public, so even if they were meeting, they weren’t trying to hide it, so it was probably nothing nefarious.
She was still staring at the door when a third surprise happened. The door opened, and Kevin walked out.
Had Kevin been lunching at Lago? Expensive on the salary of a part-time cop. But maybe he could afford it. Jo suspected that Kevin had family money. She’d been to his house once. The unassuming small cape had been upgraded with the finest trappings. Granite countertops, cherry cabinets, bamboo flooring, and all the electronic gadgets one could wish for. Maybe that was why Kevin never seemed to want to take on more hours. If he had family money, he probably didn’t even need a job.
"Oh no!" Reese’s distraught voice pulled her attention from the window, and she swung around, planting her feet on the floor. She peered through the glass slats of the post-office-box partition. Bev Porterfield must have left, and Reese was alone at her desk, staring down at her computer, her dark hair hanging down the side of her face like a curtain.
"What’s wrong?"
"Eric just emailed me. Lucy ran away."
"Maybe she ran home to her family." Jo’s words ended a hopeful octave higher than they started.
"I don’t think so," Reese said. "Eric said he doubted she even had one. I mean, you saw the condition she was in. Nobody was taking good care of her."
A pang of regret speared Jo. She hated to think of the dog out on the streets. Maybe she should’ve taken her in. Another living, breathing creature to come home to might be nice. But her landlord had been adamant about the no-pets rule. Maybe she should think about buying a place where she could actually have a dog. Maybe it was time she admitted that she actually wanted to put down roots here in White Rock.
"In happier news, I was able to find out something interesting about Lynn Palmer pertaining to her company, Lyah."
"You did? How did you do that?"
Reese scooted her chair around the partition. Her laptop was in her lap, and she had one faded-jean-clad leg curled under her, the other used for scooting.
"I have my ways," she teased.
Jo frowned. "Legal ways?"
There might’ve been times when they pushed the envelope, but if they wanted things to be admissible in court, Jo had to make sure that there was no way a defense attorney could have any evidence thrown out. If Reese had hacked into some computer files, they wouldn’t be admissible in court. Jo suspected Reese was even more skilled in computer forensics than she’d let on to either her or Sam.
Reese held up her hands. "Totally legal. I simply called her lawyer and asked."
Jo held the white donut bag from Brewed Awakening out, and Reese took one. There were only two left. Had Jo eaten the rest? She didn’t remember—she’d been so focused on the case.
"How did you find out who her lawyer was?"
"Does that part have to be legal? I mean, one could get that information from anywhere. Her friends. Her parents. We wouldn’t have to prove how we found out who he is, right?" Reese bit into the donut, some of the sugar sprinkling down on the keyboard. She brushed it off and grabbed a napkin out of the bag.
Jo thought about that. As long as the information was gathered legally, who would know how she found out who the lawyer was? She made a mental note to ask about the lawyer in some official capacity so as to cover their asses. "You might be right. What did you find out?"
"Lynn and Noah used to be an item. They started that company together. The name, Lyah, is actually a mashup of their first names. They wanted to make sure the other could maintain control if something happened, so there’s a codicil in Lynn’s will that says her stock shares go to Noah in the event of her death. He has one leaving his shares to her, supposedly."
Jo leaned back in the chair and clasped her hands together, her elbows on the arms of her chair. "Now, that is interesting."
Kevin came around the post-office-box partition. "You guys found something interesting?"
"Reese discovered that Lynn Palmer’s will lists Noah as a beneficiary of her interests in the company. Did you stop for lunch?" Jo said.
"Huh?" Kevin frowned at her. "Oh, no." He held up the camera. "I was out taking pictures. Just got back from the campground." He looked at his watch. "In fact, I think I may have worked more hours than I’m supposed to. I don’t know what the budget is for extra hours, do you?"