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The front door of the station opened, and in walked Harry Woolston. Now pushing eighty, Harry had once been the chief of police, and he loved to stop by to talk about old times. He was somewhat of a mentor to Sam, so his presence was always welcome even though Sam did sometimes get frustrated with Harry’s habit of trying to “help” with the cases.
“Evening, everyone,” Harry greeted, his voice deep and resonant. He glanced around, taking in the fresh coat of paint with a nod of approval. “Sprucing up the place, I see. I don’t think this place has been painted since I was chief.”
Sam stepped forward to greet him. “Harry, always good to see you. What brings you by?”
Harry, removing his hat, revealed his shock of white hair and characteristic warm, yet shrewd, eyes. “Just passing by and thought I’d drop in. Saw that campaign sign out front, Sam. Supporting Marnie for mayor, are you?”
Sam shifted slightly, a touch of discomfort in his stance. “Marnie thought our station was prime real estate for her sign. I’m staying neutral, though. As you can see, Jamison has put his stake in the ground too.”
Harry chuckled, seemingly unfazed by Sam’s diplomatic response. “Of course, of course. So, how’s the April Summers case going?”
“We’re running down some leads,” Sam said.
Harry laughed and petted Lucy. “I know that means you aren’t narrowing in on anyone.”
Sam smiled. “Don’t be too sure. We have several suspects.”
“Funny thing it is, that she changed her name and all,” Harry said. “I knew her when she was Mary Madden. She seemed like a nice girl.”
“It sounds like she wasn’t very nice as April Summers.” Jo held up a coffee mug to offer Harry a cup.
Harry shook his head. “Gotta watch my caffeine after three p.m.”
“So do you know anyone who would want her dead?” Sam asked.
Harry shook his head. “Nah, didn’t know her well. I remember the divorce. It was quiet. No violence or fighting like you get these days. Things seem so much more violent. Like, look at all the murders. Never had that many in my day.”
Sam laughed. “Guess things were a lot better back then.”
Harry leaned against the counter, his eyes reflecting a time long past. “Sure were. You know, though, I remember another person who changed their name. A whole family, actually.”
Jo looked up from her coffee. Was he talking about the Woodsons? She’d never considered that Harry might be able to shed some light on her sister’s case. “You do?”
“Oh, they were a curious case. Moved to town about thirty years ago under the name Woodson. Had a bit of trouble with their boy once, and when I dug deeper, I found they’d changed their name. A strange coincidence, don’t you think?”
Sam glanced at Jo and asked, “What was the trouble with their son?”
“Nothing serious, just some teenage rebellion. But it involved Daniel Webster. That man was always a bit of a troublemaker. I remember pulling in Barry Woodson and Webster for questioning over some petty theft.”
Jo, her detective instincts kicking in, took note. “Who is Daniel Webster? Is he related to Ricky?”
Harry nodded. “His uncle.”
“What kind of troublemaker was he?”
Harry scrunched up his face. “Stealing, B and E, nothing too bad.”
Jo thought there was a big difference between these small crimes and being a child abductor or serial killer. Still, Jo made a mental note to find out more about this uncle.
Harry’s phone pinged, and he took it from his pocket, squinting. A look of alarm crossed his face. “Uh-oh. Looks like the missus needs me to bring some milk home for supper. Guess I lost track of time.”
Sam thanked Harry for stopping by, and Harry left in a rush.
“Boy, his wife really has tightened the leash on him,” Reese said.
Jo laughed. “It was interesting he remembered that old case with the Websters and Woodsons. I just keep thinking there is something there.”
“Me too. But right now, I think it’s about time we go question Hank Madden. He should be home from work by now.” Sam turned back toward the door.
