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“What’s the evidence?”
“Possession of the chief’s weapon, tire track matching the cast I took, no alibi for the time, and the thirty-two. It’s time to get the county attorney involved.”
Holly turned to Wallace. “I want somebody to drive the thirty-two to the state lab in Tallahassee, wait while they do the test and phone us with the results. If they’re positive, then we’ll charge them.”
“Right,” Wallace said, then left the room.
“What about the Doherty murder?” Holly asked.
“If the thirty-two ballistics match, I’ll get a confession,” Hurst replied. “Then they’ll cop to Hank’s murder, too.”
“A very neat package,” Holly said. “I hope it holds together.” That was no lie: she wanted this to happen, so she could clear these cases and get them off her mind.
Jane knocked and came into the room. “There’s a Mrs. Warner on the phone for you.”
“I’ll take it in my office.” She turned to Hurst. “Good job. Let’s wrap this up real tight.” She went to her office and picked up the phone. “Mrs. Warner?”
“Yes, Chief. We’re at the airport in Atlanta, and we’re leaving right now for Orchid Beach—my husband has an airplane. I wanted to know where I should go when we get there.”
“What time do you expect to land?”
“About eleven-thirty or twelve.”
“I’ll meet you at the airport and drive you to Hank’s place.”
“Thank you, that’s very kind of you.”
“See you at eleven-thirty.” Holly hung up the phone and sighed. If she could just get through this day, if it went right, then she could relax and start to get a grip on her job.
CHAPTER
10
H olly stood in front of the little airport terminal building and watched the Bonanza taxi to a halt and kill its engine. When the prop had stopped turning she walked to the airplane and waited while the two people inside unfastened their seat belts and stepped down. She walked up to them and stuck out a hand. “Mr. and Mrs. Warner? I’m Holly Barker, deputy chief of police.”
“Oh, hello,” Mrs. Warner said. “I’m Eleanor, and this is Ed. We’d prefer first names. And thank you so much for meeting us.”
“I’m glad to. Do you have any bags?”
Ed Warner opened a rear door of the airplane and took out two overnight bags. “We’ve booked a motel room locally, so that we can stay until we get this sorted out.”
“This is Daisy, your dad’s dog,” Holly said. Daisy allowed herself to be petted but remained distant, Holly thought. “Let’s get your bags into my car.” She stowed the bags in the rear of her Grand Cherokee, ushered the Warners into the backseat and put Daisy up front with her.
“Have there been any developments?” Eleanor asked.
“Yes, I’m glad to say. We’ve arrested two people, and we expect to charge them with the shooting of the chief, if the ballistics test on their gun is positive.”
“I’m sorry? The chief?”
“Forgive me, Eleanor, I haven’t brought you fully up to date. Chet Marley, the police chief, was shot shortly before your father was, and your father was shot with the chief’s shotgun, so we reckon that the perpetrators were the same in both cases. Right now, the evidence points to these two latter-day hippies in the chief’s shooting, and when we can prove that, we might get a confession to your dad’s murder, too.”
“And the evidence is conclusive?” Ed asked.
“Not yet, but if the ballistics tests pan out, that will help us a lot.”
“When will you know?”
“Later today, I hope.” She navigated toward the bridge to the barrier island, then crossed it and turned south toward Hank Doherty’s place.
