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Maybe he should just bring it to the station. He was sure Wyatt could crack into it in no time. But the thumb drive had been found in his pocket, which meant he hadn’t turned it over to Sam for a reason. That reason eluded him now.
Better safe than sorry. If he hadn’t wanted anyone to see what was on the drive back then, he might not want them to see it now. Better to get a look at it himself first.
His pulse throbbed in his temples as he put his fingers back on the keys. Try again. Keep trying.
CHAPTEREIGHT
The following morning, Sam and Lucy walked into the station and were immediately hit by the pungent smell of fresh paint. He squinted at the walls, now a shade of gray that was actually kind of pleasant. Reese was wielding a paint roller with an artist’s focus.
“Hey, it’s looking good, Reese. Smells like a chemical plant, though.”
“Beauty often comes at a cost, Sam.” Reese set the paint roller down, bent over to pet Lucy, and grinned. “Lucy, stay away from the walls.” Reese raised her voice, yelling into the squad room, “You, too, Major, especially that tail of yours!”
Just as Sam was about to reply, the front door burst open, and in strode Mayor Henley Jamison, his expensive suit impeccably tailored and his tie flapping over his shoulder as if caught in a breeze only he could feel. He halted midstride to sneeze then scowled at the freshly painted walls.
“This does look better,” he conceded, nodding at Reese, who was standing paint roller in hand. “Good job.”
Sam glanced from Reese to the mayor then asked, “Something I can help you with, Mayor?”
Jamison’s frown deepened. “I’m here about that case involving the activist. The owl people are in an uproar.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Owl people? I didn’t know we had owl people.”
“Well, we do. They call themselves the Owl Protection Society, and they’re on my case,” the mayor huffed, striding past the row of brass-embossed post office boxes that doubled as makeshift dividers.
As the mayor and Sam entered the squad room, Jo and Wyatt looked up from their battered metal desks. Jamison’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed the room, his expression softening as his gaze settled on Major, who was on top of the metal filing cabinet.
Major, who lashed out at most visitors, had recently taken a liking to the mayor for reasons Sam couldn’t understand. The cat rolled on his back and purred as the mayor took something from his pocket.
“Got something for you.” Jamison tossed the toy to Major, who batted it from the air with one paw. It landed on the ground, arousing Lucy’s curiosity.
Lucy trotted over.
Major jumped from the cabinet.
Lucy sniffed the toy.
“Meow!” Major lashed out his razor-sharp claw, connecting with Lucy’s nose.
“Yipe!” Lucy ran off into Sam’s office, and Major picked the toy up in his mouth and trotted off in the opposite direction.
“And here I thought they were getting along,” Sam said.
“Sorry.” Jamison shrugged. “So, back to business. I need this case solved pronto before the news blows up. The owl aspect adds interest and pretty soon it will be on all the TV stations. That won’t be good for my campaign.”
Sam felt a spike of annoyance. The mayor’s political concerns should be the least of anyone’s worries when a life was lost. “We’re doing everything we can to seek justice for the victim, campaign or no campaign.”
His eyes flicked to Jo. “Any progress on identifying more about the victim?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. Still running down leads.”
Jamison seemed visibly perturbed. “Well, you better find something fast.”
“It would help if you got that search warrant issued so we could get her things at the motel,” Sam said.
Jamison gave a curt nod. “My assistant is faxing that over even as we speak.”
They all turned to look at the fax machine, which whirred to life.
