She had a feeling Marshall would insist on paying Christopher anyway, but the two of them could hash it out between them.
CHAPTER SIX
“BASICALLY WHAT YOU’RE saying is you have absolutely no leads, even though you’ve got the stolen vehicle.”
“I wish to hell I had better news to report.” Ruben Morales looked apologetic and frustrated at the same time. “The state crime lab has gone over and over the thing and they can’t find so much as a stray hair strand. Everything was wiped down, even the mirror buttons and the turn signals. We couldn’t even find the owner’s fingerprints anywhere.”
Marshall mulled the chilling implications of the information. “So we were right. This wasn’t just some joyriding kid, out to make trouble for a stray cop.”
“Exactly. What kid would be smart enough to clear evidence from somewhere obscure like the seat adjustment bar?”
“So that’s a clue right there. Either this is somebody who watches every single forensic crime show on TV or someone who knows his way around the system.”
“Which you suspected from the beginning.”
Marshall shifted in the damn recliner, trying in vain to get comfortable. It seemed harder than ever, especially with this grim conclusion sitting in his gut like a hunk of bad meat.
The decided lack of evidence seemed to point to a perpetrator with advanced law enforcement knowledge. Someone smart enough to scout locations without cameras and then clever enough to lure him there by tantalizing him with a lead on a case they knew he couldn’t ignore.
It was becoming harder and harder to avoid the conclusion that someone in his own department had deliberately come at him with deadly force.
He had enemies within his own house. It was tougher to swallow than the giant horse-pill-sized antibiotics the doc gave him. He didn’t want to believe it, but the mounting evidence was becoming inescapable.
“What’s the scuttlebutt in the break room about the incident?”
Ruben hesitated, a shadow shifting across his features. “For the most part, everyone is concerned about you and angry that the perp drove away and left you there.”
He didn’t miss the careful wording. “For the most part. What about the rest?”
Again, Morales hesitated. Marshall knew he had put his deputy in a difficult position, asking him to investigate his coworkers. The Lake Haven Sheriff’s Department was too small for a dedicated internal affairs department. Usually, they would call in the state police to investigate cases of wrongdoing in the department. Marshall had, in fact, been preparing to bring in state police investigators to look into the missing funds.
Something was sour in his department, something that had been going on longer than he had been in office.
After a long moment, Ruben finally spoke. “I can’t help notice that certain parties clam up whenever the conversation swings around to you and your injuries.”
“Let me guess. Wall and Kramer.”
“You don’t seem particularly surprised.”
“Who would be? They haven’t exactly been quiet about some of the changes I’ve tried to implement over the last year.”
Both deputies had worked in the department for years. Ken Kramer, in fact, had run against him in the general election the previous year. Both Ken Kramer and his longtime friend Curtis Wall had made no secret they thought Marshall won the election because of his family name and not his own qualifications.
John Bailey had been well liked and respected by nearly everyone, save for a few lawbreakers in certain segments of the population. Before Marshall’s father, Marshall’s grandfather had served as chief of police of Haven Point for many years and his great-grandfather before that.
For the Baileys, being in law enforcement was a proud legacy, almost a family tradition.
Marshall wanted to think he had earned the office because the voting public believed he was the best man for the job. He had promised new ideas and a commitment to making sure every representative of the sheriff’s department carried out his duties with integrity, honesty and transparency.
So much for that.
Somebody was stealing money from inside his department, at least two of his deputies practiced open insubordination, a county commissioner wanted his badge and somebody hated him enough they were willing to run him down.
He hadn’t done a very good job of keeping his election commitments.
“What about dash cam? Anything there?”
“The guy has on a balaclava, so we can’t see anything. For all we know, it could have been Frosty the freaking Snowman driving the car.”
“I’m beginning to think he might be our prime suspect. Who else could have melted away like that?”