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Chapter 58
AS THEY WEREdriving back to the Mitchells’, Jamison blurted out, “If you thought they had Frank killed, why didn’t you tell me?”
“I told you before that Isuspectedhis death might not be an accident.”
“Yeah, but now you sound a lot more sure.”
“That’s because Iama lot more sure.”
“But whywould they kill Frank?”
“He saw something he shouldn’t have, probably.”
“But it was the robot that killed him.”
“But people control robots. And what if it did exactly as it was programmed to do, while Frank was standing next to it?”
Before Jamison could answer, Decker’s phone rang.
It was Kemper.
“We just did a quick down and dirty onthe two houses. Both tested positive for traces of heroin and fentanyl. Decker, I don’t know how long I can sit on this.”
“We need just a little more time. Have you been keeping Ross under surveillance?”
“Yeah, he left yesterday with his duffel. And I’m betting there wasn’t just gym clothes in there. He went into a number of buildings, including the gym. It would have beentoo conspicuous for us to follow him inside. He came back out each time with the duffel, but there’s no guarantee that the pill bottles were still in there. So there’s evidence that probably just went poof.”
“We’ll nail these guys, Agent Kemper.”
“We better. Because if we don’t my career is over. I just need you to understand that we’re running out of time.”
She clickedoff and Decker looked at Jamison, who had obviously overheard the DEA agent’s strident tones.
“She sounds a little panicked,” said Jamison.
“Yeah. I guess,” Decker said vaguely.
“Don’t you ever panic, Decker?”
“Never saw the value.”
“We can’t tell Amber your theory about Frank. Not until we’re sure.”
“I know that.”
The skiesopened up and a fine rain began to fall.
“God, Baronville is dreary enough without the bad weather,” observed Jamison as she drove along.
“Dreary with bright spots,” amended Decker. “Look over there at that bakery. Cindi Riley told me about it. The owner had a life insurance policy on her son. He overdosed and his policy paid out enough for her to open a business.”
“You really think something hinky is going on with that.”
“Hinky enough for us to stop there and get some coffee.”
Jamison pulled into the parking lot and they entered the Peacock Bakery. There was a neon sign out front in the shape of the colorful bird.
Inside, the place was neat and well laid out with whitewashed wooden tables, multicolored tablecloths, and glasscabinets filled with delicacies. Behind the counter was a large chalkboard mounted on the wall with the bakery’s menu written on it.
