Trace leaned back in his chair. He could feel Melinda inching closer to him from behind until her hand landed on his shoulder. He twisted his neck to look at her as he spoke to Keegan. “Somebody’s going to get in a heap of trouble. Perhaps several people.” He didn’t want to say any more out loud in the middle of the precinct, so he held the phone to his ear while he spoke into Keegan’s head. “If the developer is in on this shit storm, you’re in a fuck of a mess there. Have you called the sheriff’s office on the rez?”
“Not yet. But we’re getting close. Right now, all we have is an email from an unknown source. Mitch is trying to locate the original inspector, and then we’re calling everyone in who worked on the site, but it’s going to take some time. It’s been a year. Some of the original construction workers are no longer living in the area. When the project was put on hold, they were forced to seek new jobs, often in other towns.”
“What a disaster.”
“Yeah. Thank God my job is to make sure the work is done right from here on out. Glad I’m not on the legal end of things. Somebody’s going to be forced to fork up some big bucks to make this right.”
“Be careful. You could be venturing into dangerous territory. If anyone suspects halting or backtracking the progress of that construction is your fault, they could retaliate. I wouldn’t let it get out that you’re investigating this yet.” He chose his words carefully since Melinda was listening.
She inhaled sharply anyway, her fingers digging into his shoulder.
Chief Bergman headed toward Trace.
“Gotta go. Let me know how things are going later.” He would talk more with Keegan about safety when Melinda wasn’t listening.
“’K.” Keegan disconnected.
Trace lifted his gaze to Bergman’s. The man’s face was grim. “I need you to do some research on this guy.” Bergman handed him a Post-it.
Trace nodded and tugged his laptop closer. “Anything particular I’m looking for?”
Bergman glanced at Melinda before he continued in a lower voice. “Some kids on the reservation found his body beside the lake this morning.”
Trace felt Melinda stiffen before she gasped.
Bergman lifted his gaze to Melinda. “Sorry to be so blunt.” He turned back to Trace. “He’s Caucasian. And human,” his boss added in a soft whisper before he continued. “The deputies on the rez are on the scene. I’m sending a few guys over now.”
“How did we get involved?” Trace asked.
“The address on his driver’s license is in Cambridge. The sheriff on the reservation called me this morning. He’s sending a man here. I’m sending two of ours to the scene.”
“How awful,” Melinda muttered.
Trace agreed. Cambridge and Sojourn were both small towns. They were forty minutes apart, but there wasn’t a whole lot in between them. It was rare for any significant crime to occur. It had been several years since anyone had been murdered in either town.
“I’ll see what I can find out.” Trace grabbed his mouse and began his search. And it didn’t take long for him to sit up straight and pay closer attention.
Nolan Friedmont. The guy seemed ordinary enough. Until Trace dug deeper. He lived in Cambridge in a ski-side cabin that was more of an estate than anything else. He’d purchased the property ten months ago, which was all well and good except he didn’t make enough money to afford such a home.
What really made Trace pay closer attention was the man had been a construction worker at the very casino now under investigation for cutting corners. He hadn’t worked since the earthquake, and yet he’d continued to make the enormous payments on his mortgage—a mortgage he couldn’t possibly have afforded in the first place with his income. Even though he’d been one of the head honchos under the foreman in charge at the site, he hadn’t made nearly enough money to cover that mansion.
At least not over the table.
Fuck.
Trace glanced at Melinda. He’d hovered over his computer for so long, he’d managed to stuff her presence to the back of his mind. Impressive. And the look on her face told him she was amused by his ability to ignore her.
She held her bottom lip between her teeth, a grin spreading her cheeks wide. Her eyes twinkled with mirth. “Must be fascinating research,” she teased. Her legs were tucked under her, and she held a Kindle in her hand.
Good. At least she hadn’t been reading over his shoulder. If she had, she wouldn’t be so calm.
“You can’t imagine,” he mumbled, shutting down his computer and grabbing a stack of pages from the printer under his desk. He’d printed out a large stack throughout the afternoon. He glanced at his watch and winced. “We should go home.”