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“But enough of that,” said Bruce. “You asked whether I’d worked other homicides. The answer’s yes, quite few. Although most of those in a far different environment and circumstances than here.”
“Still,” said Greta, “similarities must exist everywhere.”
He nodded. “Sure. Almost always involving either anger or fear, which can be two sides of the same coin. Hot ones—the killers angry they’d been slighted, a bad drug deal, a betrayed crime partner, a wife or a girlfriend leaving. The cold ones, though, where there may have been nothing personal, I hated those the most. A prospective gang member required to kill a member of another gang to gain full admission; thrill killers murdering someone they had never met and who had never done any harm. Even the psycho ones didn’t bother me as much. At least, you could tell yourself they were crazy and not just inhumanly cold.”
Greta wondered whether he was recalling bad memories he might just as soon have left far behind.
“Any advice to a fledging investigator on her first homicide?” she asked. “Some basic principles, things to watch out for, tricks of the trade?”
He gave himself a slight shake as he pushed the past away, took a sip of his coffee, and eyed Greta. He saw a bright enough and earnest young woman committed to doing a good job at whatever she attempted. He wasn’t convinced law enforcement was her ultimate stopping place, though he never doubted she would do the best she could.
In those few moments while he stared at her, he recalled the first time they’d met. Alice Blankenship had called him to cash in a favor. He owed the Tillamook mayor and didn’t hesitate, even when she explained the details of the favor. More than willing, he found himself genuinely interested in mentoring his replacement, particularly after first meeting her. The new hire came under a state mandate to increase the percentage of women officers. For the opening created by Bruce’s retirement, Alice served on a three-person selection committee, including Sheriff Wallace and the chief of police of Corvallis, Oregon, as the required “outsider.” Wallace had moaned about outside interference with his department, not having complete control over the hiring, and being obliged to bring on a female patrol deputy. He accepted women for office work and the county jail, but on patrol?
By the terms of the selection procedure, the chosen candidate needed more votes than any other candidate. Wallace had alienated the Corvallis chief almost immediately, and it took little effort for Alice to maneuver so that Greta was the only candidate to get two positive votes, dashing Wallace’s plan to reject all candidates and use it as justification for hiring a man.
Bruce paid his debts to Alice Blankenship by taking Greta under his wing long enough to launch her on the job. As expected, Wallace made no attempt to break in the new, inexperienced 22-year-old female deputy sheriff. Bruce suspected that Wallace hoped she’d perform so badly, he could justify firing her during her probation period.
Fortunately for Greta, Oregon allowed new law enforcement hires with no prior experience one year to pass certification, which involved taking courses that varied from single days to a week. She dove into the courses, both remote classes and attendance in Portland. That, along with assistance from other Tillamook staff and Bruce’s tutelage, got her going. She survived the first chaotic couple of months, learned fast, and was dedicated. As the months passed, she needed his advice less often, and now they mainly got together as friends, more than as mentor-student.
His attention came back to the table and Greta waiting for his advice.
“Tricks of the trade, huh? I assume you know that most homicides are either solved quickly or not at all. Quickly doesn’t necessarily mean time-wise, such as identifying the perpetrator, even if it takes weeks or months to build a case. Most of the time, it’s someone the victim knows well, like a family member, friend, neighbor, or coworker.
“The longer the case goes on, especially with no good suspects, the odds of solving it aren’t good. Fortunately, most homicides are not meticulously planned. They’re spur-of-the-moment things, no matter what the motivation. For those harder cases, where you don’t seem to be getting anywhere, I found it useful to step back and examine initial assumptions.
“I remember one case where the victim was a known drug dealer. Small time, but a long record. We started off assuming it was likely a competing dealer, a disgruntled customer, or someone else related to the drugs. Turned out to be a younger brother. The two argued over the last popsicle in the freezer of the crack house they lived in. Brother was fourteen and never showed remorse once we figured it out. It was one of those cases, way too many, that finally had me bail.”
Greta ate, while he talked. She had saved the last slice of banana to go with the last spoonful of oatmeal. What would it be like to have so many murder cases going at the same time? So many that you couldn’t spend enough time on any one? It was a daunting thought.
Her department phone chimed. She noted the time as she activated it—8:39 a.m. A text message from the office. Wallace wanted to see her at 10 a.m.? She texted back that she would be there.
“Let me guess,” he stated. “Wallace wants to meet about the homicide.”
“How’d you know?”
“From your expression. He’ll probably say he just wants to be kept apprised of the progress, when what he really wants is to confirm that Tillamook County won’t be in the press about the case. Bad for reelection campaigns, you know.”
“Does he have a real challenge for reelection if he’s worried this much about it?”
“Most likely, he’ll win easily. He may even run unopposed. Another candidate would have to be from the area and be experienced to support their candidacy. An outsider would be too much of an unknown for the local voters, and it’d be a pretty steep hill to climb. Tillamook County only has two law enforcement agencies, the Sheriff’s Department and the Tillamook City Police. None of his own deputies would dare challenge him. If they lost, he’d be sure to make life hell. Police might be a possibility, but offhand I can’t think of anyone who might both qualify and be willing to fight Wallace for the job.”
“So he’s a shoo-in,” said Greta. “I know he’s a general dickhead, but is he a reasonably good sheriff? He’s the only sheriff I’ve worked with, and I hardly interact with him. Except for the once-a-month all-staff meetings, this is the first face-to-face in three months.”
“You’re lucky,” Bruce bit out without answering Greta’s questions on Wallace’s competence. “Stay away from him as much as you can.”
Greta’s eyes narrowed, as she looked at Bruce. His expression and tone were laden with . . . something in his history with Wallace he was keeping mum about. She needed to get to work, but maybe she could tease it out of him later.
“I have to get going,” Greta said. “I’ll get there a little early and stop in on Jasmine and Barb.” The two women worked at the county unified communication and IT facility.
One of Bruce’s early pieces of advice was to suck up to any staff members who could be helpful, especially those in records. Greta followed the advice and kept up friendly exchanges with those two women. Jasmine developed into a friendship that extended to their occasional outings together. She was married with two children and could not be dissuaded from hinting that Greta needed a boyfriend. Greta figured Jasmine would be the most help with the Toompas case because she enjoyed maneuvering around Wallace and keeping him in the dark.
Greta said her goodbyes to Bruce, with a promise to update him as the case went along if he was interested.
He was interested. Moderately in the case itself, and more so in Greta. She was shaping up nicely, and he had long ago become fond of her.
On the way out, she paid Doris for breakfast and changed her mind about the bread, though not for herself. She knew Barb was also a big fan of Doris’s sourdough, and she might as well get another one for Jasmine.
As she left the café, a surprise awaited.
