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“Do you believe her?” Jo asked, her voice steady, her eyes scanning the street as they walked. “That she didn’t know about her aunt being April?”
Sam paused by the driver’s-side door of the Tahoe, glancing back at Lily’s art shop, now quiet and unassuming in the light of day. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “But one thing’s clear,” he added as he unlocked the car and gestured for Lucy to jump in.
“And what’s that?” Jo probed, her gaze following his.
“Ricky Webster lied to us,” Sam said, his jaw setting firmly. “And we need to find out why.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
The Thorne construction site was a beehive of activity, with workers in hard hats and reflective vests moving about, their voices echoing over the noise of machinery. Dust kicked up around the soles of Sam and Jo’s boots as they navigated through the organized chaos. Lucy was beside them, ears perked up and alert.
Ricky Webster was near the corner of the steel structure. His back was turned, and he was gesturing animatedly to a fellow worker, unaware of the approaching officers.
“Ricky Webster!” Sam called out, his voice firm enough to cut through the noise.
Ricky turned, his expression shifting from surprise to defiance as he recognized the uniformed figures.
A flicker of annoyance crossed his features, quickly masked by a feigned casual demeanor. He muttered something to his fellow workers before sauntering over to meet the pair.
Ricky’s rough exterior softened for a moment as he extended his hand to pet Lucy, who, to Sam’s surprise, wagged her tail in response. Ricky’s eyes, wary yet defiant, met Sam’s. “Can I help you, Chief?” he asked, his voice tinged with a forced politeness that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Sam noted the subtle shift in Ricky’s posture—defensive yet trying to appear relaxed. He decided to cut straight to the chase. “Ricky, I think you might’ve forgotten to mention something important when we last talked,” Sam began, his tone even but firm. “I wanted to give you another chance to come clean.”
“Look, I already told you everything I know,” Ricky started defensively before Sam cut him off.
“No, you didn’t,” Sam said, stepping closer. “You left out the part where you were with Lily Dunn near the owl sanctuary. Now I wonder, why would you lie about that?”
“It wasn’t like that,” Ricky insisted, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “I was just trying to keep Lily out of this mess. Her folks would be mad at her if they knew we were meeting.”
“And what about her aunt?” Sam asked.
Ricky frowned. “Her aunt? I don’t know her aunt.”
Lucy’s gaze flicked from Ricky to Sam. Her posture was relaxed. She didn’t think Ricky was lying.
“You didn’t know her aunt was April Summers?” Jo asked.
Ricky’s brows shot up. “What? She never told me that.”
“So you lied to keep her parents from knowing you were seeing each other? To protect her,” Jo concluded, her tone skeptical but not unkind. “Or was it to protect yourself?”
“I’ve done nothing wrong!” Ricky’s voice rose, tinged with anger and frustration.
Ricky’s frustration was palpable as he crossed his arms defensively. “You’re always accusing me,” he blurted out, his tone laced with resentment. “But I never do anything wrong. Maybe you should stop wasting time on me and look at someone who actually had a problem with her.”
Sam’s interest piqued. Clearly, April Summers had been a figure of contention in the community, but Ricky’s insinuation hinted at a specific conflict. “Who are you talking about, Ricky?” Sam asked, his voice calm but insistent.
Ricky’s gaze shifted toward the construction trailer, a temporary office amid the skeletal framework of the new build. He pointed a rough, work-worn finger in its direction. “Beryl Thorne,” he said, his voice carrying a note of certainty. “I saw ’em—April and Beryl—arguing right over there.”
Sam studied Ricky’s expression, searching for any sign of deceit. “What were they arguing about?” he inquired, hoping for more detail.
Ricky shrugged, his expression one of frustration mixed with a hint of fear. “Dunno the words. Just heard shouting. But they were really going at it.”
Sam glanced over at the trailer. Beryl said she hadn’t known April. A wave of unease washed over him. If what Ricky said was true, Beryl had known April, and what an odd coincidence that it was Beryl who discovered the body.
Sam’s gaze lingered on Ricky, weighing his words, the implications. “We’ll talk to her,” he assured. “But if we find out you’re holding back more than you’re letting on, protecting Lily will be the least of your worries.”
As Sam and Jo stepped away from Ricky Webster, the wheels turned in Sam’s head. How had Ricky, a construction worker, known April Summers, an activist who had seemingly come from nowhere?
