The store owner backed away. “I’ll check on you later, Savannah.” She gave Tammy’s arm an encouraging pat, then walked toward the back of the store.
Tammy sniffled and hiked her purse strap back into place on her shoulder. “I should have known better than to listen to Uncle Michael. I stole evidence from the PHPD, and I’m in so much trouble.” She choked back a sob. “It was so stupid. At first he just wanted me to spy on the police department and tell him what they were investigating, but it got to be more than that. More and more and more. The orders never stopped, but I was a frog in water that was getting hotter and didn’t realize I needed to hop out. Now it’s too late.” She shuffled her sneakered feet.
Savannah’s chest stirred with pity. The girl was so young, not even twenty-five. And she’d had a rough life without a lot of role models. Only Nora would have stood in the gap and tried to point the girl in the right direction. “I’m sorry for your trouble, Tammy. Are the charges serious?”
Tammy gave a jerky nod and dug a crumpled paper napkin from her purse to use on her damp face. “I destroyed evidence. Uncle Michael had me burn stuff and throw it off the KateNorris Bridge. And I handed some things over to him.” She began to shred the napkin into pieces. “Like your little girl’s file.”
“What did he want with Ella’s file?”
Tammy’s fingers stilled their shredding. “I—I think maybe he wanted to use it to hurt you and Hez somehow. I wasn’t sure how exactly, but he insisted I steal it. Maybe it was something about Simon. I’m so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.” Her voice trembled and faded to a whisper. “I’m so ashamed.”
“Does he still have the file?” Savannah asked.
“I think so.”
“Could you get it back? We now know Ella was murdered, and there are details in that file that could be important.”
Tammy’s morose expression brightened, and she nodded. “I can try. I might get in trouble if he catches me, but I don’t care. If I get it back for you, can you forgive me?”
“I forgive you even if you don’t get it back, but it would be helpful if we could study the evidence now that we know the truth.”
And maybe there was a clue that had been missed originally.
Hez suppressed a chuckle when Bruno Rubinelli walked into the Pelican Harbor Police Department headquarters. A frown line creased the space between Detective Augusta Richards’s brows, and a deputy’s hand twitched toward the cuffs on his belt, as if he wanted to arrest Bruno on general principle.
Bruno didn’t seem to notice. He carried a skateboard under one bony, tattoo-covered arm and a ratty backpack overthe opposite shoulder. He wore ripped jeans and an ancient Skynet T-shirt that had once been black. The fluorescent lights gleamed off his hairless skull as it swiveled on his long neck, scanning the PHPD lobby.
He spotted Hez and broke into a toothy grin. “There he is. You got those beignets you promised me?”
Hez held up a bag from Petit Charms. “Still warm. Let’s get you situated.”
Hez introduced Bruno to Augusta as they walked down the hall to the office she had prepared for him. Augusta had picked one at the back of the building near an exit and without obvious security to make it enticing to Michael. She tucked a lock of short brown hair behind her ear as she pointed out the sensors and cameras the department had installed. “We’ve got two hidden cameras watching the window, one inside and one outside. Pressure pads are under the carpet by the window and all around the desk.”
She picked up a dirty phone with a cracked screen from the utilitarian desk in the middle of the room. “This is a four-year-old prepaid phone of the make and model sold in the store where our target bought the phone used to call Deke Willard. Do you need anything else at the moment?”
Bruno opened the Petit Charms bag and inhaled. “Ahh. Is your coffee any good?”
A smile cracked Augusta’s no-nonsense demeanor. “The chief’s is. She just set up a coffee bar in her office. I’ll see if I can get you a cup. How do you like it?”
“Black, thanks.” Bruno unzipped his backpack as Augusta left. He pulled out a heavily stickered laptop and a couple ofmetal boxes that sprouted numerous wires, one of which he connected to the phone on the desk. “Might as well make it look realistic.”
Augusta returned with the coffee. Bruno accepted the mug gratefully and took a bite of beignet. “Awesome. Good as advertised.”
Hez got up. “Glad you like them. I’ve got a meeting, but let me know if you need anything.”
Bruno gave a thumbs-up and swallowed. “Will do. Gonna hang here for a few, then find a skate park or somethin’. Chat up the locals a little like you asked.”
Hez thanked him and left with Augusta, who cast a doubtful glance back over her shoulder as they walked to their meeting. “If the FBI didn’t vouch for him, I’d be a little worried he’d hack into our computers.”
Hez laughed. “He could do that from back in California. Trust me—we’re lucky he’s on our side.”
They walked into Chief Jane Dixon’s office, and she rose to greet them. Hope was seated in one of Jane’s guest chairs with a laptop on her knees. “Hey, Hez. Did you get my email just now?”
“No. We were getting Bruno set up. What’s going on?”
Hope closed her laptop. “Well, the good news is that we’ve got the area around the Norris Bridge secured—for now.”
Hez braced himself. “And the bad news?”
