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28
Boyd was in his office poring over a stack of paperwork on Wednesday morning when Liam rapped his knuckles on the open door.
“O’Connor,” Boyd said wearily. “Come in and sit down.” His tie was askew, and there were sweat stains on the armpits of his shirt. Deep frown lines creased the man’s forehead, and his face was shiny and flushed like it used to get after a hard night of drinking. Liam remembered that look on Boyd well. He’d seen it too many times to count.
“Looks like your week’s been almost as bad as mine,” Liam said.
“Worse, I can assure you.” Boyd’s voice remained even, but his body was rigid with tension. “Unlike you, I have a lot more than just my own ass to worry about.”
“I apologize, Captain. I should’ve told you that Margaret and I—”
“Goddamn right, you should’ve told me. It’s your job. I don’t have time to second-guess my own officers to see if they’re telling the truth. Lucky for you, Cora pulled off a miracle when she interrogated that crackhead, and he spilled about the robberies. Do you know how close you came to getting implicated in the murder of John Brady?” He shook his head in disgust. “You must have one hell of a guardian angel, O’Connor.”
Liam smirked. “Two, actually.”
“That’s enough.” Boyd’s calm facade crumbled. “This isn’t a joke, and I’m going to tell you right now, you’d better tread lightly with me. We may have known each other back in the day, but that doesn’t mean shit when I’ve got an unsolved murder on my hands and the mayor breathing down my neck. He wants my assurance that this case will be wrapped up in a nice little bow before election time, but right now, I can’t promise a damned thing. You came this close to getting fired. If it weren’t for Cora helping to prove your alibi, you wouldn’t even be sitting here.”
“I know, and I’m going to make it right,” Liam said. “We’ll get to the bottom of this case. Whatever it takes.”
“It takes you doing your job.”
Cora appeared in the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt, but I think we may have a new lead on the Brady case.”
“What is it?” Boyd demanded.
“A woman out here named Lindsey Albright.” Cora gestured to her desk where a sandy-haired college girl sat fidgeting with her phone. She was petite and tanned, in shorts and a Providence Falls University T-shirt. “She says she was walking home from the bar near the Brady residence last Saturday night. She took a selfie with her phone on the street right outside the house. When she read about John Brady’s death on the news, she decided to bring the picture in so we could examine it.”
Boyd’s scowl deepened. “What’s she got?”
“It’s a grainy image, but there are two figures standing in the window in the background. Hard to tell, but it looks like it could be John Brady, and there’s definitely someone behind him. Want me to get her information?”
“No, I’ll handle it,” Boyd said. “Send her in.”
When Cora left, Boyd began shuffling the papers on his desk and muttering to himself. He seemed to have forgotten Liam was there.
Liam pushed his chair back and stood. “Will that be all, Captain?”
Boyd glanced up, his expression dark as a thundercloud. “Get back to work, O’Connor. And if you ever withhold information again, I’ll have your ass for obstruction. That’s one promise I can make.”
Liam walked back into the pen and plunked down at his desk.
Cora brushed past him as she ushered the college girl toward Boyd’s office. “We live another day,” she said under her breath.
Woman, if you only knew.
He stared blankly at his computer. As usual, the glowing screen mocked him. He still didn’t know how to work the damned thing. Faking it wasn’t going to work for much longer, so he was going to have to buckle down and learn. Sighing, he turned the monitor off and eyed the files on his desk. He’d rather muck out a barn with his bare hands than do office work, but the angels made it clear he didn’t get to choose. Still. In spite of everything, the job gave him a sense of purpose, and being close to Cora every day was the best part. He glanced around the pen, taking comfort in the routine of it all. Everywhere he looked, it was business as usual.
Otto was wiping spilled coffee off his desk. Happy was on the phone, his face scrunched into its usual grimace. Rob strode through the pen, laughing at something one of the patrol officers said.
The copy machine in the corner jammed.
Someone cursed a blue streak.
Aye.Liam linked his hands behind his head and smiled. It was good to be back.
