Stanley pulled out his notebook and read me the name. It didn’t ring a bell, but I pulled out my notebook to jot it down anyway.
Chief Heedles was parking near us.
“Nothing else suspicious?” I was forcing back a yawn, and since Stanley seemed to be doing the same, I wasn’t expecting anything exciting.
“Nothing else even remotely interesting,” he said. “Unless you count it interesting that one of your volunteers is a retired mine company executive.”
Suddenly I was very wide awake.
“Mine company executive?” I asked. “Which one.”
“Guy named Williams,” Stanley said.
“Jim Williams?”
Stanley nodded.
“Weird,” I said. “Jim Williams was the one who’d brought me the core drill sample.”
“Not so weird,” Stanley said. “It would probably take someone in the industry to recognize that. Look, it’s been a long day. If Chief Heedles wants me, I’ll be in my trailer.”
He looked so beat that I merely nodded. And made a note to open the subject again in the morning. Yes, it made sense that anyone in the mining industry would know a core drill sample when he saw one.
Then why had Williams told me he’d learned about core drilling samples on one of Grandfather’s previous expeditions? If I’d known his background, I’d have given all the more weight to his identification of the core drill sample. He hadn’t just failed to tell the whole truth—he’d lied.
I should have asked Stanley what mining company Williams had worked for. Of course, if it had been Smedlock Mining, he’d have said something.
But what if Williams had worked for Amazonite Unlimited? I was so tired I couldn’t remember if I’d told Stanley about Anne Murphy’s discovery. If I hadn’t, and if he hadn’t yet uncovered the relationship between Amazonite Unlimited and Smedlock …
I’d talk to him tomorrow.
“Isn’t that the police chief?” Clarence Rutledge appeared at my elbow. “Is something wrong? What’s with all the commotion over there at the houses?”
“There’s been a murder,” I said. “He wants a list of everyone here in camp. Do you know where Sherry’s camped?”
“Clipboard Sherry? Yeah.”
The chief joined us, and Clarence led the way. We passed the film crew’s trailers, and I pointed them out to the chief as we passed.
“They’re usually still up at this hour,” I said. “I guess they decided on an early night for once.”
“I’ll try to wait till they’re up,” she said.
“Sherry’s in that small RV.” Clarence was pointing to the RV in question.
“That’s small?”
“For an RV.” Clarence shrugged.
I still thought “small RV” was an oxymoron. You could make two Twinmobiles out of the thing.
Chief Heedles had to knock on the RV’s door several times before Sherry appeared, uncharacteristically disheveled and blinking sleepily. I’d have expected her to be one of those people who snap awake instantly able to do long division in their heads, and the fact that she wasn’t seemed strangely reassuring.
“Sorry to disturb you, ma’am,” the chief said. “But I’m told you’re the best person to ask for a complete and accurate list of who’s here in camp.”
That jolted her awake.
“Has one of our volunteers been causing a problem?” she said.
“There’s been a problem,” the chief said. “I don’t yet know if it’s one of my townspeople causing it or one of your volunteers. I could use that list.”
“Of course.” She fidgeted briefly with the thick blond rope of hair that hung down her back, as if hoping it would curl up on its own into its usual French braid. Then she disappeared back into the RV and appeared almost immediately carrying the familiar clipboard.
“This is my only copy,” she said. “I’d need it back. Is there someplace in town where you could make a copy?”
“Let’s find a place with better light and I can take a picture of it,” Chief Heedles said.
“We have some good LED lanterns over at the administration tent,” Sherry said. “Would that do?”
The chief nodded. Sherry strode off. Clarence followed Sherry. I didn’t, and the chief paused for a moment to look back at me.
“Do you need me any more tonight?” I asked. “Or would it be okay if I went back to my tent and tried to get some sleep.”
“That’s fine,” she said.
She turned to go.
“Just one thing,” I said. “I have no idea if this is at all relevant, but—there’s a guy here in camp who used to work for a mining company. His name is Jim Williams.”