CHAPTER SEVEN #2
“Few years ago. I liked Derek. Still do, in a way. But he got caught with his fingers in the jar, and Warren let him go.”
“What did he steal?”
“Cash from the office safe, supposedly. Some paperwork, too. Warren handled it before I knew the details.”
“Supposedly?”
Ray’s mouth tightened. “That was Warren’s word. Derek denied it until he was blue. Took us to civil court over wrongful dismissal and lost.”
“You think he could have turned violent over it?”
“If someone carried bad feeling toward Warren, Derek did. Losing that job hurt him bad. He works in Osmond’s Coffee House down the street. Maggie hired him when nobody else would. You’ll catch him if you’re quick. They close earlier than most.”
Connor stood. “Thanks, Ray. If I need anything else, I’ll be in touch.” He didn’t trust Ray, not one bit. But did that mean he was a killer? Connor felt eager to find out, but his anger over Warren wasn’t quite enough to make him step beyond his duty. Not yet.
Ray rose, too. “Connor. I meant what I said. I hated the son of a gun some days. But not enough to put him in the ground. I don’t know why someone would do that.”
Connor put his hat back on. “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
A couple of minutes later, Connor parked outside Osmond’s Coffee House further down Main Street.
The place occupied the corner of a narrow side street, its green awning faded by years of sun.
A chalkboard near the door advertised soup, pie, and fresh rolls.
Inside, two elderly women sat by the window, speaking in low voices over mugs.
A man at the counter folded a newspaper and left as Connor entered.
Maggie Osmond looked up from behind the counter.
She was in her forties, with short black hair and a pale scar that ran from the outer edge of her left cheek toward her jaw.
Connor remembered the day she got it. A ladder had slipped behind the shop while she was clearing a gutter, and he had been the first there after the call.
Blood on her collar. Her hand shaking in his as he helped her into the ambulance.
“Sheriff,” Maggie said. “You here for lunch or trouble?”
“Questions.”
“That’ll be trouble then.”
“I need to speak with Derek Lyle.”
Maggie’s expression changed, as if she knew this day would come. Still, a day she clearly didn’t want to face. “He’s in the back.”
“I’d like to speak with him.”
“About Warren?”
“Yes.”
She wiped her hands on a towel and lowered her voice so her patrons couldn’t listen in. “Derek’s worked hard to get past all that.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Half the county blacklisted him from work. And I ain’t certain he did anything wrong.”
“I know you gave him a chance, Maggie.”
“That boy needed one.”
“I’m not here to take it away. But I do need to talk with him.”
After a moment, Maggie nodded toward the rear door. “I’ll get him.”
Derek Lyle came out, wiping his hands on a cloth. Mid-thirties, thin, sandy hair, face drawn with caution. His eyes moved from Connor's badge to the door, then back again.
“Sheriff.”
“Derek. Got a few minutes?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not much of one.”
Maggie said, “Use the side table.”
Connor and Derek sat near the rear wall, away from the two women at the window. Maggie returned to the counter but kept watching.
Connor opened his notebook. “I need to ask about Warren Holt.”
Derek’s jaw moved. “I figured you’d turn up after someone shot him.”
“You two had history.”
“He ruined my life. But I wouldn’t let him ruin it further by killing him, if that’s what you’re after.”
The answer came too fast and anger laced each word. He clearly wasn’t over what had happened to him.
“Tell me about that,” Connor said.
Derek looked at his hands. “I worked for him and Ray. Office assistant at first, then handling accounts, contracts, deposits. I was good at it. Then money went missing from the safe. Warren said he had proof it was me.”
“Did he?”
“No.”
Connor glared at him. “The court disagreed.”
He shook his head. “Court believed people with better suits and more money. Imagine that.”
Connor kept writing. “You took him to civil court and lost, that says the evidence went against you.”
“Yeah. And after I lost, nobody would touch me. You know what this community’s like. Once someone says thief, it sticks.”
“Maggie hired you, at least.”
Derek glanced toward the counter. “Maggie was a saint for giving me a chance.”
Connor followed his gaze. Maggie pretended to arrange cups.
“Why would Warren accuse you if you didn’t do it?”
“I don’t know.”
“He must have had a reason.”
Derek leaned closer, lowering his voice. “I saw debt letters when I worked for him.”
“What kind?”
“Late notices. Final demands. Stuff from private lenders, too, not just banks. Warren wasn’t as rich as he made out. He was juggling money. Moving it around. I think he wanted me gone because I saw things I shouldn’t have.”
“You think he stole from his own safe?” Connor asked, feeling like he was pulling on a worthwhile thread.
Derek took a deep breath. “I think he took the cash, blamed me, and got rid of the one employee who knew he was in trouble.”
“Did Ray know about that?”
“I don’t know. Ray was around, but Warren controlled the books on that side.”
“Did you ever confront Warren after losing the case?”
“Once. Outside the courthouse.”
“What happened?”
“I told him he’d pay for what he did. I said it, but I didn’t mean it. Ray’s got more grudges than a porcupine has needles, he’s the one you should ask.”
Connor straightened up. “That’s a threat, though.”
Derek held his gaze, frightened now but not backing away. “I meant legally. Or through God. Or karma. Whatever you want to call it. I didn’t mean I’d shoot him.”
“I have to ask everyone this,” Connor said. “Where were you last night?”
“At home.”
“Anyone with you?”
“No. My mom is on vacation to Canada.”
“That’s not helpful, for you or for me.”
“Truth usually isn’t. But I always tell the truth.” He grinned. Connor didn’t like it.
Connor changed track. “Did you know Warren used the old hunting lodge?”
“Everyone knew. Him and his buddies. Rich men playing country.”
“You ever go there?”
“No.”
“Own a gun?”
“Probably the only man in the county that doesn’t!”
Derek glanced toward the counter again. Maggie had stopped and was giving Connor a judgmental look.
Connor closed the notebook. “I think I got enough. But Derek… Don’t leave town.”
Derek’s laugh came out thin. “Where would I go?”
Connor stood. “If you remember anything else, call me.”
Maggie came over as Connor headed for the door. “He didn’t do this.”
“Why are you so sure?”
“Because he doesn’t have a bad bone in his body.”
Connor put his notebook away. “Maybe not. I gotta ask, Maggie. See ya both.”
They didn’t say anything in return.
Outside, the sun had started to drop behind the roof line across the street. Main Street traffic moved slowly at the next junction, pickups and sedans easing through the afternoon heat.
Connor climbed into the SUV but didn’t start the engine.
Ray had motive. Derek had motive. Both had worked with Warren. Both claimed he had money problems. Both were alone when Warren died.
And somewhere between them, Warren’s clean public life was beginning to show cracks.
Connor turned the key.
Either man could be lying.
But right now, he needed more to go on to figure out which.