CHAPTER TEN #2
Marlene drew in a broken breath. “If it’s him, you promise me you’ll put him behind bars, Connor. For Vic.”
Connor did not hesitate. “I will get the son of a bitch who did this, Marlene. No matter what.”
Selena’s eyes moved to him at once.
That was the wrong promise. Human, understandable, and dangerous.
She stepped in before Marlene could build her hope around it. “Marlene, we’re not going to jump to conclusions yet. But we will speak with Carl Higgins, and we’ll do everything we can to track down your husband’s killer.”
A long silence came through the phone.
“All right,” Marlene said, though it did not sound all right. “Please don’t let my kids grow up wondering.”
“We won’t,” Connor said.
Selena kept her voice steady. “Is there someone with you right now?”
“My mother. The FBI agent is still here, too.”
“Good. I’ll make sure you get my number so you can get directly in contact,” Selena said.
“I don’t want numbers. I want my husband back.”
No one answered that. There was no answer worth giving.
Marlene swallowed audibly. “Connor… Find who did this.”
The call ended.
For a few seconds, the phone remained on the table, screen gone dark.
Arnold was the first to move. He reached for the phone and put it back in his pocket.
Connor grabbed his hat from the table. “I’ll speak with Higgins.”
Selena turned toward him. “Maybe I should.”
“No.”
The word came too fast.
Arnold looked down at the floor.
Selena kept her attention on Connor. “That wasn’t a suggestion based on my ego.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“You made a promise to a grieving widow. You knew Victor. You know Higgins. You’re angry. Those are not small factors.”
Connor put his hat on and adjusted the brim. “You don’t need to worry. Everything will be by the book.”
Selena felt a pang of worry. A pang that she remembered from when they were younger. It always said Connor was liable to go over the line. “I should come.”
“Selena.”
The use of her first name slowed her, though she wished it had not.
Connor’s eyes held hers. Red showed faintly at the edges, but the wetness had gone. “Higgins and I know each other. I want to speak to him one to one about a few things.”
“That’s exactly why I should be there.”
“You think I’m going to put him through a wall?”
“Right now, I don’t know what you’re going to do.”
The truth of it sat between them.
Connor lowered his voice. "I know you're doing your job. I know why you're worried. But I need to do mine. Remember what happened with Sandra Holt. People will open up more to me because they know me. An FBI agent might spook them. There's a reason why I'm Sheriff."
“You can do your job with me in the room.”
“Not this time.”
Selena stared at him. A terrible feeling had taken root somewhere low in her stomach. Not certainty. Only instinct, sharpened by too many rooms where men had said they were fine right before they proved otherwise.
Connor stepped closer. “Please let me do this.”
That word did more damage than his temper could have.
Please.
The younger Connor had not used it often. He had joked, argued, bluffed, and charged ahead. This man stood in front of her with grief in his face and a badge on his chest and asked once, quietly, to be trusted.
“All right,” she said.
Relief crossed his face so fast she almost missed it.
“But if I hear you raised your voice past what’s useful, I’ll pull you back from him and I won’t apologize for it.”
“Fine by me.”
“And call me when you’re done. Not Arnold. Not Cheryl. Me.”
Connor nodded. “I will.”
He turned for the door.
At the threshold, Selena nearly called him back. Be careful sounded too intimate. Don’t be stupid sounded too much like marriage. So she said nothing.
Connor left.
The door closed behind him with a soft click that seemed far louder than it was.
Arnold waited three seconds before speaking. “He’ll be fine.”
Selena looked at him.
“You don’t sound convinced.”
Arnold rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m convinced he wants to be fine.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No. This has hit him hard… I’ve never seen him take something so bad.”
Selena turned back to the evidence board. Carl Higgins had earned a place on it now, but no photograph yet. Just a name in her notebook and a threat spoken on a porch. Motive, perhaps. Opportunity unknown. Access unknown.
The photograph of Victor drew her eyes again.
Shot in his own chair. Television loud enough to bring a neighbor over. Door unlocked. Killer close enough to fire from above.
Beside him, Warren Holt sat in death at the lodge, the blank page beneath his hand.
Two victims with business disputes. Two men Connor was close to. Two crime scenes linked by blank pages of paper.
Selena's phone buzzed across the desk.
MEG CALLOWAY
She answered on the second ring.
"Hey boss. Please tell me you've got something useful."
"I might," Meg said. Papers rustled at her end. "Your request for Warren Holt's financial records got expedited."
Selena straightened in her chair.
"That was quick."
"I called in a few favors."
"What did you find?"
"There are several outgoing payments over the last eighteen months to a man named Walton Morimer."
Selena frowned.
"Morimer."
"You know him?"
“I know of him. I think he’s a criminal here in Harlan. A heavy hitter. Pretty dangerous if I remember correctly."
Meg was quiet for a moment.
"He's more than that."
Selena reached for her notebook.
"Go on."
"Walton Morimer is believed to be the organized crime figure in Harlan County. Gambling, extortion, protection rackets, loan sharking, vehicle theft, narcotics. He keeps enough distance between himself and the crimes that nobody's managed to put him away."
Selena scribbled the name beneath Warren Holt's.
"And Warren was paying him."
"Repeatedly."
"Protection?"
"We don't know."
"Extortion?"
"We don't know."
"Business?"
"We don't know that either."
Selena straightened up.
"I'll go and speak to him."
"You're not going anywhere near Walton Morimer."
Selena frowned.
"Why not?"
"Because he's under investigation."
She stopped writing.
"What sort of investigation?"
"A very large one."
Meg lowered her voice.
"I shouldn't even be telling you this, but you're going to find out eventually."
Selena waited.
"The Bureau has an ongoing sting operation targeting Morimer and several people around him. It's been running for months. Surveillance, confidential informants, financial monitoring, the works."
Selena leaned back in her chair.
"So if I walk into his office..."
"...every alarm bell goes off." Meg didn't raise her voice. "If Morimer thinks the FBI is suddenly interested in Warren Holt's finances, he may change his routines, destroy records, disappear assets, or simply shut down. The people running the operation won't tolerate that."
Selena rubbed the bridge of her nose.
"So I'm supposed to ignore the biggest lead we've got?"
"I'm asking you to leave it alone."
"For how long?"
"I've already spoken to the SAC overseeing the operation. They're discussing whether they can let you approach him without compromising months of work."
Selena let out a slow breath.
“Meg, we have a second victim."
"I saw that."
"If Morimer's connected to the murders, every hour matters."
"I know that too. But you have to hold off until we get clearance."
Silence settled between them.
Finally Selena nodded, even though Meg couldn't see it.
"All right."
Meg waited.
"Hold off contacting him until I get the all clear, Selena. It's for the best."
Selena gave a dry laugh. "For the investigation?"
"For you."
That made Selena pause. "What do you mean?"
Meg didn't answer immediately.
"You've already upset people in the Bureau."
"Not this again."
"If you knowingly interfere with another division's investigation..." Meg sighed. "Some of the people who already want rid of you would use it."
Selena stared out through the Sheriff's department window.
"You really think my career could go down the tube, don't you?"
"No."
The answer came quickly.
"Not if you're clever, Selena. And patient."
Selena smiled faintly.
"So what now?"
"I'll keep pushing from this end. Hopefully, I'll have permission for you soon."
"I'll wait."
"Good."
"Thanks, Meg."
"Stay patient."
"I'll do my best."
The line went dead.
Selena lowered the phone and looked again at the name she'd just written.
Walton Morimer.
For the moment, it was a door she wasn't allowed to open. But someone behind it almost certainly knew more than they were saying. She would have to pursue other leads for now.
Her gaze moved to the evidence board. A picture near the board’s edge caught her attention.
Ray Parkinson.
Printed from a county record, the photo showed a man in his fifties with close-cut gray hair, a salesman’s smile, and eyes that did not join in. Connor had already spoken with him once. Warren’s former partner. Public argument. Unresolved business.
One dead man had pointed them to Ray.
Another had pointed them to Carl Higgins.
Maybe both threads were separate. Maybe Harlan County was simply full of men with money trouble and grudges sharpened by pride. Or maybe the killer understood something about these disputes and had started using local anger as cover.
Arnold cleared his throat. “What next for you then?”
Selena took Ray’s photograph from the board, studied it for another second, then pinned it back in place.
“I think I’ll pay him a visit.”