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“Bennett was a planner. Kept meticulous notes about his affairs for future blackmail opportunities. Took measures to ensure his safety, so his payees couldn’t harm him. None of which we can prove because we have only the word of a couple ex-girlfriends. But I digress.” He pointed to the photo of the crime scene. “The murder strikes me as sloppy. The evidence is garbled, pointing to too many individuals who’ve done nothing wrong. We are an example of that. Had Bennett planned it, he wouldn’t be the primary suspect.”
“That is an excellent point.” She beamed at him. “Look at you, earning your detective’s badge today.”
He snorted.
“But,” she added, “you never mentioned another suspect, which means you don’t have one. Which means your badge gets taken away.”
He pouted, and she laughed.
Back to the drawing board. Jane tossed out different theories, and Conrad always listened, asked questions and offered great feedback, even as evening turned into midnight and her thoughts began to scramble.
“Vampires,” she piped up. “The deputy could have stumbled upon their existence, and they had to keep him quiet.”
“Too much blood left inside his body and no puncture wounds.”
“True.” Her eyelids drooped, but she pushed through, continuing her investigation. Even when morning sunlight streamed through the windows. Again and again, her attention returned to the case file outlining the details of Oliver Bennett’s fatal crash. Gunn had scrawled out dozens of handwritten notes:
Real or Fake?
Facial reconstruction surgery?
Undocumented triplet?
Identity theft?
He’d certainly possessed a vivid imagination. Jane approved. “If Oliver had reconstruction surgery, he could be anyone. Even Tom,” she muttered.
“Maybe Tom was the one who’d died, allowing Oliver to take his place.”
“But what would that mean for the murder investigation?” Something? Nothing?
“Okay, let’s attack this another way,” Conrad said. “Who is your top-of-the-line prime suspect?”
Yes, who did she believe was responsible? “The Tom Cat, after all?” Oh! New name alert. The Case of the Purrfect Murder. “What if he did the planning, but not the executing? His chosen blackmail victims are married women desperate to keep their extramarital affairs secret. All he had to do was snap his fingers, and a former lover do the dirty work for him. Maybe this woman wanted the law to find out about Tom, so she left clues?” Jane bounced on the balls of her feet as she warmed up to the idea. Then her shoulders rolled in. “But no. There’s too much risk in involving a third party who hates you.”
An ache registered in her back, and she rubbed her tense muscles. A yawn nearly cracked her jaw, fatigue washing over her. Oh wow. Her eyelids felt as if a thin layer of sandpaper had adhered to the inside.
“Why don’t we take a quick nap and recharge?” Conrad suggested.
Her gaze returned to the accident report with the deputy’s notes. “Not yet. I’m on the cusp of something, I think.” She swiped up a photo and sank to the floor to sit cross-legged. “Was something in this empty baggie?” She pointed to the small, clear plastic with a dusting of white.
“Yes. The drug that ended up in his coffee.”
“So the killer just left it there? Without fingerprints?”
“The deputy’s prints were on it, along with prints too smudged to use. And yes, the killer left it behind. It could have fallen out of his pocket. Or hers. I’m not discounting your lover used for murder scenario.”
She read over the deputy’s notes again, both typed and chicken scratch. When she finished, she moved on to the accident, then his bid for Sheriff. He’d compiled a pretty hefty campaign file. But her gaze kept returning to the accident tidbit.
–When asked what happened, the driver said nothing. I said you’re sure, and he said no thank you. Obvious confusion and trauma.
She zeroed in on one phrase in particular. I said you’re sure. I said you’re sure.
I said you’re sure.
She took a closer look. Oh! “Your” sure, not “you’re” sure. He’d made the same mistake there, there and there. Her brain must have subconsciously corrected his grammar. It was the same mistake the Gentleman had made.
Her eyes widened, a bomb of light exploding inside her. Of course! When you had the right pieces, everything fit. The puzzle put itself together. The who, the what and the why.
“You did it,” Conrad said with a grin.
“I did! I really did.” Jane threw her arms around him and settled in his lap right there on the floor.
“Tell me what you got.”
“Deputy Gunn wanted to be sheriff. He must have thought he had it in the bag until Sheriff Moore endorsed you. For the first time, he realized he might lose this thing. When Ashley Katz ran that article featuring his fabrication of evidence, he probably had to speed up his timeline, bringing the crime boss into the spotlight sooner rather than later. He sent those threatening letters to himself,” she announced, and her gut chimed in with a resounding Yes! Better late than never, she supposed. “The mistake between your and the you are contraction gave it away.”
