***
I unlocked the rear door and let myself in. I’d backtracked several times and was reasonably sure no one had followed me. It seemed paranoid, but better to err on the side of caution.
I walked upstairs to Lou’s office but, just in case someone had trailed me, I didn’t turn on any lights. The lighting from the parking lot provided sufficient illumination, enough for me to navigate without stubbing a toe or ramming into something. Walking toward the leather sofa, I called the Freedom PD and asked for Detective Nathaniel Vail. I took a chance he’d still be at work. He seemed the married-to-his-work type.
“Vail,” the homicide detective said in my ear.
“This is Josie Fox.”
“What can I do for you at a minute before midnight on a Sunday night, Ms. Fox?”
His voice was different than I recalled, but then I might not be remembering accurately. This morning, I was literally dragged by the police from Amy’s apartment and spirited downtown. Frightened and apprehensive as I’d been, it made sense my recollections of certain events and things might not coincide with the actuality.
“Have you made any progress on the Hayes murder?” I asked.
“You know I can’t discuss an on-going investigation.”
“I’m not asking for specifics, Lieutenant. I’m asking whether you consider me a person of interest, a suspect, or neither. If you feel you can’t answer that question, tell me whether I can leave town.”
“Have a good trip, Ms. Fox.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
“One more thing…”
“Yes.”
“You may want to stay out of Dodge for awhile.”
“Why’s that?”
“It seems participants of Carlisle’s soirée Friday evening aren’t fairing well. Wight Allaby was murdered tonight.”
“Who’d want to kill him?” I sat down before my legs gave out. I couldn’t take much more of this active life. Clearly, sociability would kill me.
“He is a lawyer.”
“Yeah, a really old one.”
“Sixty-two.”
“Is that all he was? He looked older.”
“Too many years on the juice and too many cigars.”
“Where was his body found?”
“Outside the Oyster Shell.”
I’d never been there, but heard of the restaurant. I ran my fingers through my hair. “Is there any link between the murders? How was he killed?” I sensed Vail hesitating and said, hoping to put him at ease, “It isn’t anything I’m not going to find out from the morning paper.”
“A gunshot to the back of the head,” he said finally.
I didn’t know how Thomas had been killed. After seeing the tire iron next to his body in the photograph Vail had shown me, I’d assumed the cause of death was blunt force trauma. If the same killer murdered these men, it made sense the same weapon would have been used. “Like Thomas?” I asked. Vail didn’t answer. I took that as a yes. “Same type of weapon?”
“I can’t say.”
Things are not always as they appear. “Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t as in I don’t know and won’t speculate.”
“What’s the time of death?” Before Vail could tell me again he wouldn’t speculate, I rephrased my question. “When was his body found?”
“Six-thirty.”
“The restaurant would have been hopping at the time, so I’m assuming someone heard the gunshot and came out to investigate, setting the time of death precisely.”
I wondered why Vail didn’t want me in for questioning on this murder too. “There’s a reason you’re not hauling me downtown. What is it?”
“I can send a squad car for you, if you’re feeling left out.”
“You have evidence pointing to someone else,” I said more to myself than Vail and realized how perfect the theory was.
“Have a safe trip, Ms. Fox.”
“Thanks, Lieutenant. Can Jackson leave town as well?”
“Good night, Ms. Fox.”