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“Oh, is the mayor going to speak?” Martin asked.
Liam nodded toward the dance-slash-stage area. “I think both she and Dear are going to give statements.”
The chatter in the pub quieted and sure enough, Chief Dear had taken the stage. Standing next to him was a diminutive, dark-haired woman who looked to be in her midsixties. She was much shorter than the chief and seemed to be trying to make up for it with six-inch heels. All Martin could think was, why would anyone living in Cooper Springs wear high heels?
Incredibly, everyone stopped talking. The only sounds were the hum of the coolers behind the bar and the hiss of something in the kitchen area.
“Good afternoon, or evening, as the case is,” the mayor began. “As you all seem to already be aware, a second set of remains was discovered this afternoon on Crook’s Trail.”
The murmuring began to increase, but Mayor Moore held up her hand, hushing them. “Before you ask, no, we don’t know who it is. We are doing everything in our power to identify this person.” She looked around the room, her dark eyes hesitating on Martin—leastways, it felt like they did—before moving on. “We will use every resource available to us.”
Someone grumbled, “Right. A couple of dropout deputies with a mail-order forensics kit they ordered off a sketchy online company.”
The chief’s eyes narrowed. He may not have been in the best hiking shape, but the man had good hearing. His steely gaze swept the room until it landed on the culprit. A flash of irritation was followed by his steel-gray eyebrows rising slightly. Leaning a bit to the side, Martin peered over at the man who’d spoken. It was no one he knew, but he had the sneaking suspicion that Dear might.
From where Martin was sitting, he could see the guy was built. He had massive shoulders, wider than Martin’s anyway. He must’ve felt Martin looking at him because, twisting around in his chair, he practically skewered Martin with an ice-blue glare. Martin wasn’t the kind of person who usually noticed that kind of stuff—except for Nick’s, for some reason—but the guy’s eyes were lasers that pierced right through a person.
The front door opened and Xavier Stone and Vincent Barone stepped inside, breaking the weird standoff. Spotting Martin, Xavier smiled and headed his way.
“Can we share your table?” Xavier asked.
Martin gestured at the empty seats. “Be my guest.”
Xavier took the seat next to Martin while Vincent sat by Liam and turned his chair so he’d be able to see the stage and the two people occupying it.
“I feel like I was late to homeroom,” Xavier whispered.
The mayor cleared her throat and the crowd quieted. Her impossibly crimson lips turned down and her eyebrows drew together. She did not appear impressed, but maybe that was how she always looked. Martin hadn’t met her in person yet.
“Thank you all for coming out. I’m giving the stage to Chief Dear for now. He’s going to fill us all in on the situation.”
Dear stepped forward. “Thank you, Mayor Moore.” He gazed out over the crowd, his glance pausing on the man sitting kitty-corner from Martin. Seeming to realize he was taking too long, Dear shook his head and began. He didn’t share any information Martin didn’t already know, especially seeing as it had only been a few hours since they’d all traipsed back down Crook’s Trail.
There had been a brief discussion over whether someone should stay behind and protect the scene since Crook’s Trail was public. In the end, they’d decided to declare the trail closed and string tape across the path to keep people from heading up to see what they could see. From the expression on Critter’s face, Martin suspected he would be snoozing in his car at the trail entrance in an attempt to keep looky-loos away.
Dear stopped talking and stepped back. The mayor stepped forward again.
“I realize,” she declared, directing her glare at the man who’d made the mail-order forensics comment, “that Cooper Springs doesn’t have all the resources it needs to solve this crime, and we are still waiting to learn more about the remains discovered back in October. Soon, we’ll have a little more help. West Coast Forensics has offered us their assistance.”
“Friends in high places,” Laser-Eye Guy muttered. “Maybe they’ll actually solve this.”
“My son, actually,” Moore responded. “But yes.” She looked around, taking in everyone in the pub. “There are more resources on the way. Wewillget to the bottom of this.”
“It would be nice if it was before anyone else goes missing.” If the guy was trying to mutter, his effort failed. Martin suspected he didn’t give a crap who heard him.
Chief Dear’s dark scowl clearly expressed his belief that if murder weren’t illegal, he’d have a go at the asshole. And it was a miracle the mystery man didn’t burst into flames when Mayor Moore shot him the evil eye.
“We are doing everything we can,” Dear said into the following silence. He stepped to the front of the stage again. “Please, respect my deputies as we work the scene. If anyone thinks they might have information about this person, or the remains discovered in the fall, please contact the police department.”
The stranger’s massive shoulders moved up and back down in a careless shrug. He was trying to antagonize the chief—and it was working.
“I’m warning you all now, if one more person calls the station claiming it was Bigfoot or”—he grimaced—“the Sasquatch, I swear by all that is holy, I will send a deputy to your home and have you charged with impeding an investigation.”
“Tough call, Chief.” Shoulder Man again.
“What’s that guy’s problem?” Liam wanted to know.
Chief Dear’s nostrils flared and even from where he was sitting, Martin saw the muscle along his jaw clench. His lips parted and he started forward. Luckily, the mayor put a restraining hand on the chief’s arm, possibly saving the stranger’s life. Or Dear’s.
