He wanted to remind her that he was part of this too, but he said nothing. Where had the closeness from last night gone?
* * *
Jane met Augusta in the hall. “In my office,” she told her detective. She stalked to her office. “Shut the door and sit.”
Augusta sank into the chair while Jane went around her desk, slung down her bag, and dropped into her chair. Parker went to his bed in the corner and plopped down on it. “A search warrant before we even get the autopsy report? Really?”
Augusta lifted a brow. “Chief, you haven’t been walking the town like I have. We have to be aggressive in our investigation. People think it’s going to be swept under the rug because of your connection to the case.”
“I thought people knew me, trusted me.” Jane’s voice wobbled, and she cleared her throat.
“But they don’t know Reid well yet. And someone has been spreading talk about Reid having hired a hit man. We have to be proactive and blatantly unbiased.”
“Who would say such a thing?”
Augusta shrugged her slim shoulders. “It’s like a wildfire spreading through town with no way to know who started it.”
“How do we combat something so nebulous?”
“We find the real killer.”
Jane’s computer dinged with an incoming message. “Looks like the autopsy report is in. Come around and look at it with me. Henry must have made that call right away to get the autopsy prioritized.” She adjusted her monitor so Augusta, standing to her left, could see it too.
She scrolled down the page to scan the highlights. “Metal slivers in the head wound indicate deceased was struck with a rectangular metal object. Just like Nora thought. And there are green paint flecks.”
She tried not to show her dismay. That old tackle box Will used was green. “We need to find Will’s tackle box.”
“And what if there’s blood or hair on it?”
They both knew the answer to that question. Will would need to be brought in for more questioning. And he would probably be arrested.
“But he already told us he left it on the dock.”
Augusta held up a finger. “An admitted altercation with the deceased.” She shot up a second finger. “The weapon belongs to him and is found with bodily evidence. That makes a pretty strong case, Chief.”
“Circumstantial.”
“But some pretty compelling reasons to look at Will.”
“I can’t deny that. So we have to find out who really did this.”
“I’m working on Lauren’s background. Where has she been? Why did she need money so badly? Was she involved in anything illegal? Lots of questions about Lauren Dixon.”
If Jane had ever doubted her detective’s abilities, she now recognized her stellar sleuthing skills. “How can I help?”
“Stay out of it. Mingle with people in town and tell them you’re letting me handle it and that you believe in Will’s innocence. And Reid’s. Let that message permeate as Jackson and I figure out this case.”
“What about Gail Briscoe’s murder? Anything new there while I was out of town?”
“Not yet. You can take over that investigation and let me run with the Dixon case.”
“All right, fair enough. You can’t do it all.”
Augusta gave a cheeky grin. “Well, I could, but I’d never see my family. The file is up to date and ready for you. Before the new murder, I’d planned to talk to some of Finn Presley’s workmates at the fire station. And his ex-wife.”
“You’re focusing on Finn and not Gail?”
“First I wanted to discover if they knew each other.”
“I’ll start there too. You’re a good detective, Augusta.”
“Which is why you hired me.” The detective went around the desk toward the door. “Was your trip to Maine successful?”
“Well, I met my mother. To say she wasn’t thrilled to see me would be an understatement. When this other is over, I’d like to get your take on some evidence of an old murder.”
“You got it.” Augusta closed the door behind her.
Jane opened the Briscoe murder file and perused it again to refresh her memory. Gail’s ex still looked good for a possible suspect, but Augusta’s idea to eliminate any connection between the two victims was sound. When she talked to Drew, Jane wanted to find out if he’d had a sticker on the window. And he needed to be grilled about his abuse of Gail.
She rose and grabbed her bag before calling her dog. The firehouse was catty-corner from the police station, so it did not take long for her to reach the blast of air-conditioning in the firemen’s break room. Four firemen were playing cards at a square table. Discarded Coke cans and littered popcorn around the chair legs showed they’d been at their poker game awhile.
The fire chief, Wayne Gardner, saw her first. “We got company, boys.” He stood and came toward her. “I was expecting your detective today.”
“I’m handling the investigation so she can focus on the new murder. I want to leave it in her hands so there’s no question about the evidence against my son.”
The other firemen approached and clustered around Wayne. “Smart move, Chief.” Wayne scratched at his bushy mustache. “How can we help you?”
“How well did you know Finn?”
“We’re all as close as brothers. I knew when he washed his socks and what he took in his coffee.”
Jane smiled. “What about his family?”
One of the younger firemen shook his head. “He’d been pretty broken up about his divorce. He didn’t get to see his daughter as much as he wanted. He’d sued for joint custody, but his ex insisted he take a drug test, and he failed. Supposedly he was taking meth. Anyone who knew Finn realized that was an out-and-out lie. He hated drugs. I never saw him so much as take a couple of Tylenol. He was a health-food nut, too, and always talked about the fuel he put in his body.”
Jane frowned. “Where is his ex now?”
“She lives over in Gulf Shores, out on Fort Morgan Road. I can give you her address. I went with Finn a couple of times to pick up his little girl.”
“That would be helpful.” Jane waited while he jotted down the address.
She desperately needed to be with Will and Reid. Maybe they’d take a drive out to the peninsula, and they could gather seashells by Fort Morgan.
Seventeen
Were the police tearing his house apart? Had the killer planted any evidence?
Still carrying his coffee, Reid wandered down the street to the pier. The scent of the sea air normally soothed him, and he settled on a bench to watch boats moving out in the bay. Pete flew down to settle beside him. When Reid didn’t offer to feed him, the pelican flapped giant wings and soared out over the water to scoop up a fish. Other pelicans dove and soared on the wind with squawking gulls and terns.
“You look as lost as a captain with no navigation equipment, son.”
Reid gazed up at Alfie’s drawl. “Morning.” He pointed to the bench. “Have a seat. You just get back from shrimping?”
The old man reeked of seafood and still wore his once-white boots, stained red. A few shrimp scales clung to his pants. “Yep. Not tired yet though. You look lower than a snake’s belly in a wagon rut. Need some cheerin’ up?”