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The video call opened up. “So, what’s the status on the Monkton murder?” asked Mills.
“We think the murder is tied…” Slade started to respond.
“We?”
Might as well grab the bull by the horns.
“Yep, we, as in Fiona Fowler and me. Let me tell you, we need to cut Thorn some slack about Jessica. The women in the murder club are tenacious and smart as hell. I all but arrested Fi, and instead of wanting to kick me in the balls, she’s been instrumental in helping me figure this thing out.”
Mills hummed noncommittally. “So, what do you know?”
“I know Fiona had nothing to do with either case. We think the Monkton murder is tied to an incident that was classified as an accident shortly after I joined the Navy. Fiona was present at the time but doesn’t have a clear memory other than it was in the same area, and Daniel was present at the party where the incident occurred.”
“What’s your next move?”
“I’m starting to get a hinky feeling about the town’s newspaper editor, so I’m heading over to another town. I thought I’d talk to Ryker McKay. He’s been helpful in the past. I want to do some further research without the Angel’s Rise editor knowing what I’m up to.”
Ryker had been a freelance stringer for the Associated Press. He’d been in probably as many war zones, if not firefights, as Slade and his unit. He was known to be hard-hitting but fair, and had been freelance only, because he wanted to be able to pursue the stories he wanted. He liked answering to no one except himself.
“Don’t you need to keep looking there?”
“No. Fiona and I took pictures. She’s got a murder board back in her loft. By the way, I’m requisitioning one of those for the unit. That thing is slick.”
The head of the MCU chuckled. “You guys and your toys. I remember…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, back in your day you had to chisel it into the stone and dinosaurs roamed the earth.”
“Smart ass.”
“Better than being a dumb ass,” quipped Slade.
“I know Randy and Kenny weren’t there long. Do you need them back?”
“As usual, they did a great job, and all the forensic evidence has been gathered. Boss? Is there a problem? I don’t usually find you looking over my shoulder.”
“Not a problemper se, but the Chief of Police made some noise about you dragging up bad memories.”
Slade nodded, even though his boss couldn’t see him. “Yeah. One of the kids we were able to identify at that party—only because Fiona recognized him—was the chief’s son, Denny. He’s the fire chief now. I suspect others at that party are also prominent citizens…”
“Yeah. I thought it might be something like that. Well, keep on checking and let me know if I need to run interference.”
“No. I think I’ve got this.”
Slade ended the call, hopped into his SUV and headed to Bleak Ridge, which was south of Angel’s Rise, hoping that Ryker might be able to provide information that would help him find the link between the two cases and solve both.
The Bleak Ridge Sentinel was one of the oldest weekly newspapers in the state. The damn thing had been on its last legs when Ryker decided to come in from the field and save it. He’d made a deal with its dying publisher to keep it running and to keep it independent of all the large chain newspapers gobbling up small town local papers. For the most part, Ryker didn’t much care what people thought of him.
Slade parked in front of the Sentinel and headed inside.
“Slade?”
“Hey, Ryker. How’s it going?”
“Not bad. What’s up?”
“Can’t an old friend just stop by to say hi?”
“He can, but it’s not likely if that old friend is also a busy homicide detective. So, what can I do for the MCU?”
