“I don’t think he would have been wandering around the swamp for three days with a life-threatening injury.”
“Not by choice,” Ida Belle said. “There’s another option here—whoever got the girl out could have been the one who killed him. Maybe they both ran and she got away. Maybe she came back for the girl and ran into one of the Brethren.”
“Too many options,” I agreed.
“I have to say I’m not a fan of some of them,” Ida Belle said.
I nodded. “Me either.”
Alexander was waiting for me on the sidewalk outside the sheriff’s department. Ida Belle and Gertie had come with me, claiming they were going to sit on the bench outside and just wait for the explosion that was certain to happen. Alexander looked every bit the famous federal prosecutor in his custom suit with his perfect haircut and magazine-quality teeth. He gave us all a big smile as we walked up.
“I have to thank you for calling me,” he said. “I’ve been so bored lately. I’m not sure retirement is going to work. I took up golf. Have you ever played golf? I’m surprised there’s not more violence on golf courses.”
I laughed. “I really appreciate you coming, and I am certain that if you wanted to go back to work, there would be no shortage of places looking to hire you.”
“I think you should consider politics,” Gertie said.
He blanched. “Yuck. No. There are more criminals in politics than in Angola.”
Ida Belle nodded.
“Are you ready to do this?” he asked.
“Absolutely!”
We headed inside and Gavin, the day dispatcher, looked up at me, clearly panicked. “Uh, can I help you?”
“Yes, I’m Mr. Doucet’s attorney.”
Gavin jumped up from the desk. “Oh, right. Let me just get Hermes—sorry, Sheriff Hermes—for you.”
He hurried off and Alexander raised one eyebrow. “Looks like your friend has the employees running scared.”
“I’m going to guess he’s threatened all their jobs. I know he did Harrison.”
“Harrison? Ben Harrison? Your counterpart at the CIA?”
“Yes. He and his fiancée fled the city, and he took a job as a deputy here back last year. But Hermes knows about our past, so he’s been relegated to traffic duty.”
Alexander stared. “He’s got one of the CIA’s top agents writing tickets? Are you kidding me?”
“I couldn’t make this stuff up. You’ll see. There’s no laws of science or sense that explain Hermes.”
And speaking of the devil, he exited Carter’s office and headed our way, hitching his pants as he walked and puffing his chest. Good Lord, I wish I had video, because this was going to be awesome.
“I’m Sheriff Hermes,” he said, casting a dirty look in my direction. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m Alexander Framingham III, Mr. Doucet’s attorney. I’m here to speak to my client.”
“Yeah, all right, but she’s not welcome in here.”
Alexander stared. “You’re saying a taxpaying citizen of this town is not welcome inside the sheriff’s department? Has there been a change to state law that I’m uninformed on?”
Hermes flushed a bit. “It’s not about no law. This woman has been interfering in my investigation.”
“Then why haven’t you arrested her?”
“There’s this thing called proof,” I said.
Alexander nodded. “I see. So what you’re saying is supposition. Well, until you have enough evidence to arrest her, I suggest you refrain from statements that imply the citizens of this town aren’t welcome to engage with law enforcement.”
“Fine, she’s welcome to stand right there for the next ten years, but she’s not talking to your client.”
“Well, then I’m afraid we have a problem, because Ms. Redding is a consultant for my practice. I require her for note-taking. I’d prefer to speak to you first, so that we can go over the charges and the evidence before I speak to my client.”
“Look, Mr. Fancy Suit, I don’t care whose attorney you are. You’ll speak to your client and me when I say so, and if I don’t want her there, she won’t be.”
“Is that a fact?” Alexander smiled and pulled out his cell phone.
Hermes eyed him. “Who are you calling?”
“The ADA,” Alexander said. “I’ll get this cleared right up. Hello. This is Alex, can I please speak to the ADA? It’s urgent. Yes, Ryan, Alex here. Doing good, how about you? A quick word, I’m in Sinful trying to speak to a client who’s requested me, and the acting sheriff here has informed me that he’s unwilling to explain the charges or the evidence surrounding my client’s arrest and seems to think I shouldn’t be permitted to speak to my client either. That’s correct. Certainly.”
Alexander handed his phone to Hermes. “He’d like to talk to you.”
I could only make out a few words of what was being said, but I could tell by the way the color washed out of Hermes’s face that the ADA had informed him of exactly who Alexander was. Then I caught the words ‘Grim Reaper’ and ‘colossal idiot’ and was certain the ADA wasn’t referring to Alexander with that second one. The last thing I caught was ‘apologize’ before the phone went silent.
Hermes, who hadn’t spoken the entire call, handed the phone back to Alexander. “I apologize for my behavior. I was out of line. If you’d like me to go over the facts of the case, I can do that now.”
“That would be perfect.” Alexander gave him a huge fake smile and he turned around and headed down the hall for the conference room.
“Such a child,” Alexander said. “All that stomping.”
“I know. He does it every time he loses a battle of the wits.”
“Then he’s going to need better shoes and new knees.”
We headed into the conference room and took seats at the table across from Hermes. He grabbed a folder from the table and opened it up. The first thing he tossed our way was a photo of a body partially hidden under the dock at Nickel’s camp. I could tell it hadn’t been in the water long. Mainly because it was still largely intact, and things didn’t last long in the water here.
“Pulled that body out of the water at your client’s camp around six this morning,” Hermes said. “Bullet right through his chest. Sent a forensics team there and they pulled a recent victim’s print from inside. A young girl who was found nearby two nights ago, half drowned.”
“Who is the man?” Alexander asked, and handed me a pad of paper and pen from his briefcase.
“He hasn’t been identified.”
“Okay. Who is the girl?”
Hermes shifted in his chair. “We don’t know who she is either. She was unconscious when she was found. She’s awake now but has no memory.”
“So let me get this straight, three days ago you found a girl, whom you haven’t identified, and evidence that at some point she’d been inside my client’s camp. Then early this morning, you found a body under the dock of my client’s camp, and you don’t know who he is either. You didn’t mention finding the man’s prints inside my client’s camp, so I’m going to assume you didn’t, which means you can’t even connect the two of them to each other, much less to my client.”