them. I’d appreciate it if you’d let us deal with the McCamys.”
He wasn’t happy about that, but he nodded.
“What I’d really like you to do is come along to the briefing I’m giving to my deputies.”
He wasn’t happy about this either, but on the other hand, Katie wasn’t very happy with him. When he left for the department’s conference room, Katie called Wade in.
Wade always walked like a guy on the prowl. He was two years older than Katie and he’d wanted very much to be elected sheriff, but the truth was, the powers in town owed a lot to the Benedict Pulp Mill, and so Katie was the one to get the nod. Wade had been a deputy to the old sheriff, a good old boy named Bud Owens who’d believed computers were for wussies. When he’d finally retired, he’d told everyone he wanted Wade. Unfortunately for him, Wade didn’t have Katie’s education, or her experience as a cop in a big city. Certainly her desire to be sheriff equaled or surpassed Wade’s. Her cop experience had been in Knoxville, for two years, and that’s where she’d met Carlo Silvestri, who turned her life upside down. For one year, her life had been one screaming crisis after another. Then Carlo’s father had come and they’d both left Knoxville.
Katie had taken stock, realized she was a cop to her toes, and what she really wanted was to be sheriff of Jessborough. It was what she needed, too. She loved her work. It had helped her get through the worst of her father’s illness, the devastating and inevitable march of Alzheimer’s, which had turned him into an angry stranger before killing him.
She watched Wade, her eyes half-closed. When she’d had enough of his fidgeting around, she said, “Well, Wade, would you like to continue working with Agent Hodges for as long as he remains here?”
“Well, sure, I’d really like that, Katie.”
“Thing is, I don’t really trust him to tell us stuff, to give us everything we need to know. Can I trust you to keep me filled in?”
She saw it in his eyes. Wade wasn’t good at deception, not like she was. She was so good that when she was in Knoxville, they wanted to put her in undercover operations. She smiled at him and waited.
He said, one eyelid twitching furiously, “Of course, Katie. After all, I work for the Jessborough Sheriff’s Department.”
“Well, actually, Wade, you work for me. I am the Sheriff’s Department.”
He flushed, blood rushing to his cheeks. He got all stiff, but he wasn’t stupid, and he knew he couldn’t cross her openly or she just might fire his ass.
“Yeah, I work for you.”
“Okay, you’re now my liaison with Agent Hodges.” She sat forward, her eyes hard on him. “Listen to me now, this is important. Don’t be impressed just because he tells you something. Make sure you know everything that’s going on, you got that?”
After he’d assured her he understood, he sauntered out of her office, more enthusiasm in his step.
Katie followed him after a minute. Conversation stopped when she came into the small room. She walked to the head of the table and stood behind a small lectern, her hands clasped in front of her. “There are just eight of us this morning. Nate and Jamie are at home recovering.” She looked around the conference at her seven deputies, all of them looking excited and important. She wished she had a basket of candy to hand out to them, they looked so much like school kids. Linnie, her dispatcher and assistant, had already handed out coffee.
She introduced them to Agent Hodges, then went through events chronologically. It took her a good fifteen minutes. “Do you have anything to add, Agent Hodges?”
He didn’t, though he wanted to. The problem was that Katie had been thorough, and thankfully, Agent Hodges had the grace to say, “No, you’ve covered things quite nicely, Sheriff.”
“Okay, now here’s what we’re going to do. I found out that Hester Granby is the church secretary at the Sinful Children of God. I want Wade to get the names of the members from her. He’ll split them up and each of you will go interview as many church members as you can today. If you find out anything at all interesting about church operations or either of the McCamys, leave me a message on my voice mail. Don’t forget now, we have to be nice. Remember that we have no evidence to connect the McCamys to the kidnapping, it’s just that they’re our only lead. You already know some of their people, but the majority aren’t local. That should give you a head start at least.”
Deputy Cole Osborne said, “Sheriff, how will we know if we find out anything significant?”
“You’re smart enough. Listen carefully, anything you hear that might sound the least bit off, that’s what I want to know about.”
After she’d dismissed them all, and said fond good-byes to Agent Hodges, she pulled Deputy Danny Peevley aside. He was the best-liked of all her deputies, just about magic with people. His mama would say that he could get an onion to peel off its own skin. “I have someone real special I want you to speak to, Danny. His name is Homer Bean and he lives in Elizabethton. He owns the Union 76 gas station. I saw Bea Hipple yesterday at the church and she called me, gave me Homer Bean’s name. She said she liked Homer, and he’d been unhappy with Reverend McCamy. That’s all she knew. Mr. Bean left the church about six months ago. Find out why, Danny. Find out what he thinks of Reverend McCamy.”
Once Katie’s door closed, she sat down at her desk actually happy to have a chance to look at the three active cases Linnie had left for her to review. Three cases very nearly constituted a crime spree for Jessborough. One DUI-Timmy Engels was at this moment still sleeping off his drunk in the only cell that had a soft cushion. One assault case-Marvin Dickerson was in back in a cell for beating on his wife, Ellie. Katie would keep him locked up until Judge Denver saw him at an arraignment on Wednesday. And she would speak to his wife again, beg her to press charges. But she wouldn’t, she never did, so the best Katie could do was keep the bastard locked up as long as she could. And one last case: shoplifting-Ben Chivers, a kid whose parents were so poor, it broke Katie’s heart. And the fact that they were usually passed out at night after drinking themselves blind didn’t help matters.
Then it came to her and she smiled. It was worth a shot. She picked up the phone, spoke to Mrs. Cerlew, who owned Emmy’s One-Stop Grocery, named after her suffragette grandmother. That was where Ben had ineptly lifted the Snickers bar. When she hung up, she grabbed her hat, and stopped by Linnie’s desk. “I’m off to see Ben Chivers. I know he’s in school, and I’m going to get him out of class. It’ll make his reputation if the sheriff comes to see him, don’t you think?”
“He’ll strut,” Linnie said, then shook her head. “That’s a bad situation, Katie. Those folks of his, all they do is lie around drunk and bitch.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Katie said, gave Linnie a small salute, and drove her truck to the local middle school.
Savich looked up to see Sherlock tuck her cell phone back in her shirt pocket. They were in their bedroom at Mother’s Very Best. He was still sitting forward, trying to ignore the constant throb in his back, working on MAX.
“What did the medical examiner have to say?”
“Clancy,” Sherlock said as she bounced up and down on the bed a couple of times, “was stronger than a bull, ate like a pig, and had arteries clogged all the way to his ears. Katie’s bullet killed him. Nothing more, nothing less.” She eased off the bed, smoothed down the covers and walked to her husband. She leaned down and kissed his mouth. She felt the immediate hitch in his breath, and stood again. “About all we can do is play with my hair rollers,” she said, a wealth of disappointment in her voice.
“Where are they?”
Sherlock laughed. “You’ve been working on MAX all afternoon. What have you got?” She affectionately patted the laptop as she spoke. At least Dillon didn’t have to worry about the math teacher killer case since Jimmy Maitland had told him to chill out until he was better.
“I’ve been reading about Reverend Sooner McCamy. He’s fifty-four years old, born near Nashville, Tennessee, went to Orrin Midvale Junior College, married and divorced once, no children. He sold cars at the Nashville Porsche dealership, and did very well financially. Then he quit and moved to his rich aunt’s house here in Jessborough. He hasn’t done anything since then to earn money, I guess because he didn’t have to. He married Elsbeth Bird of Johnson City ten-plus years ago when she was only about twenty-four and he was forty-four. He didn’t become a preacher until about six years ago.”
He tapped his fingertips together, frowned down at MAX, who was humming placidly.
“He’s married to Elsbeth four years before he finds his calling?”
