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“James,” she replied.
“Jimbo. Everyone calls me Jimbo.”
“All right . . . Jimbo.”
She steeled herself from wincing at what she imagined the Lincoln people thought.
“Sheriff Wallace decided other pressing business took priority over the trip south, so he assigned me to both represent him and provide detective investigative help if further work on the case was warranted. I thought the case was pretty well dead?”
With you on the case, it might well be, she thought.
Sheriff Harward came to her rescue. “There have been a few new wrinkles we need to go over. Mitch, you said you’d brief us?”
The five of them sat around the table—Harward, Connors, Alex Boylan, Plummer, and Greta. Connors went over the case, adding other bits along the way. He referred to Greta’s report mainly when it got to the last section dealing with the receipts and the burglaries. Harward and Boylan asked most of the questions. Plummer listened silently.
As the questions moved into more details about the new information, Greta took over giving comprehensive answers without realizing it. She became concerned only when she noted Plummer’s keen interest after glancing his way. The expression vanished, replaced by his usual friendly vacancy. Then she recognized that the subterfuge of where the new information came from must be wearing thin. Harward and Boylan had taken it in stride. She assumed Connors must have clued them in.
She noted the time when the questions seemed exhausted—a quarter to four. Almost two hours. It had seemed like minutes.
Harward gave his conclusion and directed comments to the two men on his staff.
“I agree there’s a better idea of Toompas’s movement the night he was killed, although I’m not sure if it gets us closer to the killer. Mitch, you and Alex work with deputies Havorsford and Plummer to see if all this leads anywhere. Given the past dead end, I’m afraid there’s a limit to how much time I can justify, unless you come up with further leads fairly soon. Let’s say . . . a week. Go ahead and make this your priority. If nothing promising pops up, we’ll just have to let it go again.”
Greta wanted to protest for more time but understood Harward’s point. It wasn’t like they were starting from scratch. All the background legwork had been done—scores of interviews with known or suspected acquaintances. If they couldn’t shake something loose based on Toompas’s movements that night or by giving a more intense look at the burglary angle, where else could they go?
“Okay, Sheriff,” Connors responded. “Thanks for coming up. The four of us will continue discussing where we go from here, and I’ll keep you informed of any progress.”
Harward addressed Plummer. “Will I need to call Wallace to confirm you and Greta will be working on this?”
“Not at all, Sheriff Harward. Sheriff Wallace told me to work with your team and Greta. He didn’t specify a time limit, but I’m sure a week is no problem. I’ll let him know the plan and will keep him up-to-date on our end.”
Well, that’s something, Greta thought. I won’t have to deal with Wallace.
Still, she wondered whether Plummer would be any better.
Harward took his leave, and the remaining four continued, with Connors starting them off.
“Any thoughts on where to start?”
“I’d like to begin by doing a thorough canvass of the Cape Kiwanda neighborhood,” Greta offered. “We know Toompas was there either the night he was killed or the night before because of the flamingo. There’s also the Snyders. He likely broke into their garage, if not that same night, then not long before.”
“Plus, the other receipts,” added Connors.
“Right. We have receipts from La Fiesta and Doris’s Bakery and Café on occasions when burglaries occurred the same nights in Pacific City. Granted, though Toompas might not have been the brightest thief in history, even he must have checked out possible targets around town enough times that someone might remember him. I’ll take his picture and go to every neighbor’s house nearby.”
Plummer surprised her by speaking for the first time since the meeting started. “Also, take a photo of Toompas’s car. If it’s distinctive enough, it might be more memorable for some people. Suspicious cars get as many call-ins as suspicious individuals.”
Connors agreed and said the car was still at the Newport sheriff’s office impound lot. He would call down to have photographs of the car emailed to them.
Plummer spoke up again. “I also suggest we expand the canvass out from the Kiwanda neighborhood. Greta already knows the Kiwanda area best, so she can take everything west of Cape Kiwanda Drive from the Brewery to Pacific Avenue. I’ll take everything east of Cape Kiwanda Drive, including the big camper trailer park at the north end. It’s supposed to be a temporary parking spot for tourists, but a good half of them are almost permanent residents. I’ll also take the hous
es on Sunset Drive south of Pacific Drive.”
Plummer had startled Greta by jumping right in with ideas and volunteering roles. Not only that, his whole tone of voice was . . . different. And he obviously knew Pacific City.
Whatever was happening with Plummer, she liked it. “Good idea, Ja . . . er . . . Jimbo. In fact, if we do that, we might as well finish with the rest of Pacific City since we’ll have already covered half it. The rest will include all the businesses, except the brewery. In fact, I wonder if we can get anything from security cameras at some of the businesses.”
The last thought was accompanied by her rising tone of enthusiasm, quickly dampened by Plummer.
