His distance was scaring me, and I considered telling him I wanted to wait so I could buy time to prepare for whatever he might be about to tell me. But that was what Caroline Blakely would have done, and I wasn’t that coward anymore. “No. I’m good. Let’s go.”
He gave me a grim smile. “I’ll follow you.”
I was anxious the entire ten-minute drive to his house, but I felt some of my taut nerves ease as I pulled up to his small two-bedroom house in the woods. I loved his house and the peace I found there. It was tucked in the woods several hundred feet from a two-lane county road. A sliver-sized view of the valley was visible from his front porch, one of my favorite places at his house. Still, I wasn’t a total fool. I knew a large part of the peace I found there was because of the man who owned the house.
We both got out of our vehicles, and I met Marco at the base of the short path to his house. He gestured for me to take a seat in my usual chair. Warmth coursed through me. He’d prepared. An afghan was thrown over one arm, and a thermos, presumably filled with the hot tea he knew I loved, sat on the table between us. It was June, but it got cool at night at this altitude.
“I haven’t seen you much over the last week,” I said instead of asking him what news he had to share. At the moment, I was more worried about him…about us. I’d been scared all week. Not talking to him for five days was not the norm for us. No matter how busy we were.
“I’ve been tied up with a case.”
That offered some relief. Marco wanted to become a detective, but his law-abiding ways hadn’t suited the people in power. It was no small miracle he’d kept his job as long as he had, something I suspected he’d managed by keeping a low profile.
But everything had changed back in March, when Marco and I had discovered one of the corrupt deputies, Paul Conrad, was guilty of a whole battery of crimes, from covering up the death of Wyatt’s ex-girlfriend to using his badge to sexually harass and blackmail women. Paul had almost murdered Wyatt and me, but Marco had cornered him. Rather than go in for questioning, Paul had killed himself, taking whatever knowledge he had of the other corrupt members of the department with him. Nevertheless, the entire sheriff’s department had been under investigation by the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation. Several deputies had been relieved of duty, and Marco had been given more responsibility.
We hoped they’d weeded out the worst of the corruption, although neither of us was naïve enough to think they’d gotten it all. I could see him fighting a smile.
I sat up straighter and reached for the thermos. “As a detective?”
“I’m not in charge of a case, but I’m working with the lead detective—Marta White. And she set me loose to investigate a robbery while she works another case.”
“Marco, that’s great!” I gushed. “It’s about time they start taking you seriously.” I knew from experience he had a knack for detective work. He and I had questioned plenty of people while investigating our own cases, but the sheriff’s department had kept him doing scut work.
“Thanks,” he said with a grin.
“Is Detective White working on Jim Palmer’s murder?” I asked, my stomach flip-flopping. Dare I hope that Marco might be that close to information?
“No,” he said with a frown. “There’s plenty of speculatin’ goin’ on in the sheriff’s department, but unfortunately, the investigators don’t know much other than the few details the witnesses have told them.”
“That she walked in and shot him in cold blood?”
“Pretty much.” He grimaced. “That information is obviously public knowledge.”
I took a sip of the hot tea, letting it warm my insides. The air wasn’t cold, but I’d forgotten my jacket and I was wearing short sleeves. I tugged the afghan over my shoulders. “Do you think Pam Crimshaw killed Jim Palmer as one of Bart’s favors?”
He pressed his lips together then frowned. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I think maybe she did, but the guys workin’ the case are part of the old guard. I don’t have any proof, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re on Drummond’s payroll. They likely won’t dig very deep.”
“So we do the digging instead.”
He paused. “This is a high-profile case, and if it really is tied to Bart, he’s gonna be watchin’. You won’t be able to fly under the radar, Carly, and I can’t take part in any digging you do.”
“So you think we should just let this go?” I asked, incredulous.
“I’m not sayin’ that,” he said calmly. “But we don’t even know if it’s tied to him. We could waste a lot of time lookin’ into it and find out it’s all for nothing. Pam Crimshaw’s husband is one mean son-of-a-bitch. Maybe she put up with one berating too many and then just snapped. Who knows. Maybe she found out her car insurance rates went up from Thad’s DUI, so she went gunning for her insurance agent.”
“Jim Palmer was her agent? No one I’ve talked to seems to know.”
“He wasn’t at the time of his death, but I don’t know about before that. Maybe he was a year ago. He could have dropped them because of Thad’s incident.”
“Everyone keeps mentioning that her son Thad got into trouble. What happened?” Ruth had given me the basic story, but I figured Marco would have more details.
“A couple of years ago, Thad and his friend got drunk and took Pam’s car on a joy ride.”
“He had to have been, what? Fourteen?”
“Thirteen. Thad hit another car head on. Thank God no one died, but the boys and the driver of the other car were seriously injured.”
I sucked in a breath. “I take it they didn’t charge him as an adult.”
He grimaced. “No. Thad got off with community service, but the driver wasn’t too happy about it.”
“Is that type of punishment typical?”
He shrugged. “It’s all up to the judge.”
I gave him a long look. “So it’s not outside the realm of possibility that Pam or her husband went to Bart for a favor to help get him off?”
Something flashed in his eyes, and I knew he’d already considered the connection. “It’s definitely possible.”
We both sat in silence for a moment.
“And you don’t think this will come out in the investigation?” I asked. “I thought TBI was rooting out the corruption in the sheriff’s department.”
“They are, but Detectives Vaughn and Temple are both well-respected veterans. They’re above suspicion, and if Bart’s lining their pockets, they’re smart enough to cover their tracks.” He lowered his voice. “This isn’t my investigation, and even if it was, I wouldn’t be able to share confidential information. But there’s gonna be a press conference tomorrow, so I’ll tell you this much: Pam confessed. She said she felt like killing someone and chose the victim at random. Detective Vaughn’s buyin’ it hook, line, and sinker. Either he’s on Bart’s payroll or he’s doin’ it out of pure laziness. You won’t find many detectives who’ll question a full confession.”
“I’d bet money there’s a link to Bart,” I said. “Wyatt came into the tavern last night. He said something to Max, and the two of them disappeared into Max’s office for a few minutes before Wyatt up and left. I haven’t seen them go to Max’s office like that since Wyatt was under investigation for Heather’s murder. They know something.”