Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ralph didn’t care for the visitors currently waiting for an interview in an interrogation room.
Their names didn’t ring any bells. He wasn’t much into podcasts.
Sports radio was more his speed. He stayed informed about the Patriots and Red Sox.
Baseball and football were his favorites.
Ralph cared if the Celtics won but didn’t follow the team the way he did the others.
True crime, hell, he dealt with that every day.
He sure as hell didn’t want to listen to it for entertainment, especially from some Nancy Drew wannabes.
Britney on the other hand was ecstatic that Ali and Kenzi from Crime Daily Podcast were in Iron Falls. She’d already set the pair up with water and cookies.
Joclyn Evans, Old Man Evans’s wife, brought a big batch of snickerdoodles to the station to thank the sheriff for the return of her husband’s snowmobile. Ralph had no idea how the snowmobile returned, but he sure did like snickerdoodles.
Things were falling into place. Officer McCoy’s call yesterday set a whole new string of dominos in play.
ATF and the FBI were officially on the case.
Shelly was still out there. She wasn’t a scared woman running for her life.
Later tonight, the two agencies will hold a press conference from the federal building in Indianapolis.
They’ll officially announce that Michelle Holdcraft was being sought as a person of interest—a possible serial arsonist.
While Ralph was relieved the blame was on Shelly and hoped it would take some of the heat off of him, he wished it wasn’t getting the attention that it was. He detested publicity.
Now he had to deal with fucking podcasters.
The last thing the sheriff wanted was a spotlight on crime in Iron Falls.
Taking one last puff of his cigarette, Ralph smashed the butt in an old plastic cup and threw the two into the trash can.
He couldn’t put off this interview any longer.
Standing, he puffed out his chest, adjusted his belt, and made his way out of his office.
He worked out the kinks in his knee, walking with a slight limp.
As he turned the corner, he saw Britney standing in the door frame to the interrogation room.
With her hand on the doorknob, she was chatting and laughing with the podcasters.
The sound of the three women cackling was enough to give Ralph a headache.
The entire last week gave him a headache.
“Sheriff,” Britney exclaimed excitedly. “Our little town is making the Crime Daily Podcast.” She made it sound like it was an award or something.
If Iron Falls had to be made famous, Ralph would rather have it be recognized for Winston Hunting Lodge or the catfish Gloria served at the diner. Being on a true-crime podcast wasn’t exactly a sheriff’s dream.
Britney pushed the door farther open. “Sheriff Perkins, this is McKenzie Shaffer and Allison Buckley, better known as Kenzi and Ali.” Her smile grew, splitting her face in half. “Kenzi and Ali, this is Sheriff Ralph Perkins.”
Years on the force gave him the ability to read people.
During the overly enthusiastic introduction, he made a few quick assumptions.
These girls were young and pretty, looking like any one of the Instagramers or TikTokers that he avoided.
Their smiles were plastic. Their hair was long and shiny, one blond and the other a brunette.
If Ralph were to guess, the two weren’t any older than Britney, probably younger.
His most confident assumption—there was no way they were qualified to solve true crime.
“Thank you, Britney,” the sheriff said as he stepped inside the room and pulled out a chair on the opposite side of the table.
When Britney remained, he motioned with his chin.
“Shut the door on the way out, will you?” He sat and turned his attention to the visitors.
“Well, Britney sure seems pleased to meet you. Tell me, what can I do for you girls?”
They both shifted in their seats. The one with brown hair spoke first. “Deputy McBride was very nice.”
“Now, which one are you?”
The same girl answered. “I’m Kenzi.” She gestured to the blond. “She’s Ali. As you know or Deputy McBride informed you, we host a true-crime podcast.”
Sheriff Perkins grunted a response.
“Sheriff,” Ali began, “we came to Iron Falls to learn more about Dennis Holdcraft’s death.”
“Sad.” He pressed his lips together and shook his head for effect.
While he would love to give these girls the scoop on Shelly, his lips were sealed by the feds.
Instead, he went the original route. “Denny was a good ole boy. He moved up here about ten years ago, I think.” He feigned a smile.
“Don’t quote me on that. Anyhoo, he was a quiet man.
Kept to himself. Damn shame. He lost his wife before moving here and just never got over it.
We’re still investigating, but it’s looking like he let loneliness and depression take over.
You know, it gets mighty cold up here, and isolation can take a toll on some folks. ”
“You’re saying it was suicide?” Kenzi asked. “But I read a statement from the Indianapolis police that you wanted to speak to Dennis’s daughter—”
“Michelle,” Ali injected.
“Right, Michelle.” Kenzi referred to her notes. “You asked the IMPD to have Ms. Holdcraft contact you regarding” —she met the sheriff’s gaze— “possible involvement in her father’s death. Do you think Mr. Holdcraft was murdered?”
Sheriff Perkins crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against his chair.
It would be fun to play up that angle. However, it will be more dramatic to have it come out at tonight’s press conference.
“Listen, girls. It’s real cute what you’re doing, playing detective and all, but Iron Falls doesn’t have murders.
We have the occasional vagabond who breaks into hunting cabins.
The other day, a patron tried to leave Gloria’s Diner without paying.
” He uncrossed his arms. “Unfortunately, Denny’s death was tragic.
And then, on top of that, a tragedy struck in Indianapolis involving Shelly’s house.
We don’t know her status.” He shrugged. “I sure would like to be more helpful to you.”
“Did you know,” Ali asked, “that Michelle Holdcraft is an author of bestselling fiction?”
Ralph paused to think. “Britney told me. I do recall Denny saying something about it.”
“Was Ms. Holdcraft in Iron Falls recently?” Kenzi asked.
“There’s some debate about that. Some folks around here said they saw her.
Britney found on Shelly’s website that she’d been in Boston last weekend for some author thing.
Truth is, we’re investigating all possibilities.
The fire at the scene made gathering evidence difficult.
Again, this is an ongoing investigation, and I’m unable to share anything else. ”
“Deputy McBride,” Ali began, “mentioned a shed found on Mr. Holdcraft’s property.”
Heat rose beneath Ralph’s skin. “I know you’re not from around here. Nothing unusual about a shed.”
Ali and Kenzi looked at one another; Kenzi spoke. “She said you said it was filled with computers and such, ‘a real big setup,’ but when she and a few other deputies went back with you, it was empty.”
Sheriff Perkins stood. That information wouldn’t fit with the narrative. “I believe Britney was mistaken. Thank you for your visit. I’ll be happy to see you out.”
“Did Mr. Holdcraft have any other family besides his daughter?” Ali asked.
“I’d figure you girls would know the answer to that.”
Kenzi stood. “The answer is no. IMPD confirmed Michelle’s presence in Indianapolis late Monday or early Tuesday. If his only family member was a thousand miles away, who would have cleaned out his shed and why?”
When the sheriff didn’t respond, Ali asked, “Why did Mr. Holdcraft have all the computers? Was he working for someone?”
Ralph opened the door. “Denny was retired.”
The ladies gathered their things. It was Kenzi who smiled at the sheriff as they passed him holding the door. “Sheriff, Mr. Holdcraft had a net value of over two million dollars. I hope your pension is as good as IMPD.”
The fuck?
Ralph didn’t know that Denny had that kind of money. What was he up to with that shed?
“Tune in on Monday,” Ali said. “You might learn something.”
After the podcasters exited the station, Ralph pounded his fist on Britney’s desk. “Come to my office.”