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"Sure thing, Ski," he said and walked toward his car to get his fingerprinting kit.
Addressing the other deputies, Ski said, "I'll call in more reserves, but start without them. Stay with Starks's trail through the field as far as you can. See if you can pick it up on the other side of the railroad tracks. All those abandoned buildings, start at the bottom of each one and work your way up. Look for anything recently disturbed. I want every inch of them searched. If anyone finds something, they're not to touch it. Call me immediately. Tell the others when they get here."
They nodded.
"Andy's on phone duty. I'll get him to track down the owners of those businesses and secure permission for you to go insid
e. I want them checked for break-ins, jimmied alarm systems, anything and everything out of the ordinary. Same goes for the middle school campus. I want frequent updates. Anything seen, heard, or discovered, I want to know immediately. Anything, got it?"
"Sure, Ski. Where are you going?"
"To talk to the boss."
His phone had rung twice, but he'd ignored it, knowing it was probably Sheriff Drummond returning his call. Now, he depressed the button to dial the sheriff's home number. Drummond picked up on the first ring. "Ski?"
"Morning, sir. I need a minute of your time."
"Is it about the Coldare boy? His granddad and I are in Rotary together. Terrible thing. Tragic. You're sure it was Starks?"
"Yes, sir. I've got a positive ID. I can be at your house in five minutes."
"We're trying to make the eleven o'clock worship service."
"I promise not to keep you long."
Ski didn't give him a chance to argue before disconnecting. When he arrived at the sheriff's home, Mrs. Drummond was already sitting in the front seat of their Lincoln Town Car with the motor running. The sheriff was waiting at the end of his driveway, dressed in his Sunday best, Bible in one hand, Stetson in the other.
Ski pushed the gearshift into Park but left his SUV idling as he got out. "I hate to hold you up, sir, so I'll get straight to the point."
"No apology necessary, Ski. Starks shot a good kid in cold blood. That goes beyond wounding a man in a love triangle showdown. What do you need?"
"Your authorization."
"For?"
"Dogs."
"Hey, it's Andy, right?"
Dodge, who had exchanged names with the young deputy the night before, strolled into the sheriff's department and over to the desk where Andy was seated. Fortune was with him. Andy was the only one there, and since he'd seen Dodge in Ski's company the night before, he didn't question Dodge's walking in like he owned the place.
Dodge set a white box on the desk. "What I like about small towns, they always have a doughnut shop where they're made fresh every morning."
"The Donut Hole," Andy said.
"Help yourself."
"Thanks." Eagerly the deputy raised the lid and surveyed the selection.
"Don't thank me," Dodge said. "Wasn't my idea. Ski sent me to pick up that evidence on Starks he got last night. Since you're stuck here while everybody else is out, he thought you deserved a treat."
Andy, frowning, licked strawberry frosting off his fingers. "I just talked to Ski. He didn't say anything--"
"How old's that coffee?"
Andy glanced over at the stained coffeemaker sitting on a table against the far wall. "Uh, an hour or two, I think."
Dodge grinned. "Then it should be just about right." Holding a blueberry cake doughnut in his mouth, he went over to the coffeemaker and filled a foam cup, then added two packets of sugar. Looking over at Andy, who hadn't moved, he asked, "Got that stuff for me?"
