23. Ozzie
CHAPTER 23
Ozzie
T he bitter scent of the department’s burnt coffee wrinkled my nose as I lifted the black mug with my old unit’s logo on it. Stifling a yawn, I couldn’t help but wish it was filled with the same brew Claire brought me earlier today. That was long gone, though.
At least this stuff was hot. Cold, burnt coffee was the worst.
“Why are you drinking that swill?”
I turned slightly to see Chief Riggs as he walked into the breakroom, empty coffee mug dangling from his fingers. His face scrunched with disgust as he walked over to the pot and picked up the carafe, dumping the remnants down the drain.
“It was already made, and I needed the jolt.”
“Bad enough you can’t wait for a new pot to brew?” He raised an eyebrow as he unloaded the old filter and grounds, tossing them into the trash.
Considering I only slept a couple of hours both Thursday and Friday night, and the sleep I did get was fitful and packed with dreams of Claire, no. Waiting wasn’t an option if I didn’t want to drop where I stood.
In answer, I grunted and took another sip of the dreadful coffee. “Did you see the report on Hammond’s car?”
Riggs nodded. “Blood on the driver’s seat, but not Marie’s.”
“Yeah. I went back to the evidence we collected from their house and took their toothbrushes to the lab. Hopefully, one will be a match. Though I’m not sure it’ll tell us much except Warren was bleeding. It wasn’t enough to indicate he was mortally wounded.” The car had been thoroughly cleaned, but the blood had soaked through the seams in the leather and into the padding below.
“No. But maybe he cut himself with the knife he used to stab his wife.”
“Or he was stabbed, too, but was able to react and get away before the killer could deliver a fatal blow.” I wasn’t convinced Warren was innocent, but what Claire said Thursday night stuck with me. Why would he hide his car where it was likely to be found? There were so many places he could have taken it where it would stay hidden for decades.
One of the chief’s eyebrows quirked. “True.”
The yawn I suppressed earlier threatened again. I tried to hold it back but couldn’t this time. The coffee—good or bad—wasn’t helping. I needed a nap. That wouldn’t happen anytime soon, so I raised my mug and took another drink.
Riggs chuckled, setting his cup on the counter before opening the cupboard to take out the large tub of coffee. “Let me guess. Your lack of sleep has something to do with Claire Holmes?”
Startled, I lowered my mug and frowned. “How did you know?” My eyes widened as I realized how that sounded and what he probably thought. “Nothing’s going on. I’ve been clear with her that nothing can happen.”
Opening the coffee canister, Riggs replaced the filter and dumped several scoops into the machine. It was the kind that hooked up to a direct water supply, so he flipped the lid shut and hit start, then turned to me, crossing his arms as he pierced me with a candid look. “Other than finding Mrs. Hammond’s body and Mr. Hammond’s car, she hasn’t actually witnessed anything, correct?”
I frowned, unsure what he was getting at. “No.”
“That’s what I thought. I double-checked her alibi. She’s not a suspect. Not unless she’s some master criminal, adept at hiring assassins and hiding her tracks.”
My frown deepened, a low-level anger flaring to life in my chest. “You double-checked her alibi? Don’t you trust me to do my job?”
Riggs shrugged. “You’re new. And I didn’t vet you before you showed up; the state did. I know you have a stellar reputation with your previous department. They wouldn’t have hired you otherwise. But it’s still a new environment. New people and places. New procedures. I wanted to make sure you’ve settled in all right. So, I confirmed some of the details on the case.”
I crossed my arms and glared at my boss. “And have I passed muster?” If he said no, I would be on the phone to my superiors in Anchorage, requesting a transfer to a different detachment as soon as one opened. Working for someone who didn’t trust me and didn’t think me capable wasn’t something I would tolerate.
The chief’s lips flattened, and he shot me a “don’t be dumb” look. “It never hurts to have extra eyes on a case. And because I’ve independently confirmed she has an alibi, I can tell you to turn any further formal interaction with her over to me, leaving you free to take her to Parker’s Landing’s finest dinner establishment tonight.”
Confusion replaced some of the anger in my frown. Coffee sputtered from the machine as I stared at him in silence for a long moment. Finally, I found my voice. “What?”
“This case could drag on.” He picked up his coffee mug and turned on the faucet, rinsing it out. “We don’t exactly live in a bustling metropolis where the opportunities to meet people are around every corner. She didn’t witness anything and will never have to testify. From here on out, tell her to come to me if she uncovers anything about the Hammonds. Though I doubt she will. Not unless Warren Hammond contacts her.”
My thoughts went to the other elements of the case that seemingly involved Claire. “What about the break-in at her house? Someone thinks she knows something.” That meant she was more than just a minor player.
Riggs shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe someone’s obsessed with her. In that case, I think it would be better if you stuck close, don’t you?”
I narrowed my eyes and studied him. “You don’t think the break-in was related to the Hammond case?”
“It’s coincidental, I know, but sometimes that’s all it is. I think it would behoove you to consider all the possibilities. Claire’s a beautiful woman, and she spends a lot of time out in the community alone.” He dried off his cup, then lifted the carafe, pausing the brew cycle, and filled the mug.
My brows dipped and creases formed on my forehead as I considered what he said. Had I dismissed the break-in, chalking it up as part of my case, too quickly? Could there be someone out there obsessed with Claire, as Chief Riggs said? He was right; I was new here. I didn’t know the people or the community. I didn’t have my ear to the ground the way I should. Not yet.
The glass carafe clacked on the hot plate as Riggs replaced it. “Think about it. But in any case, all communication about this case with Claire needs to go through me from now on. Whether you’re dating or not, she’s compromised your objectivity.”
My fierce frown returned.
He held up a hand. “I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. For one, it tells me you’re human. You’re a stellar detective, Oscar, and your record had me wondering what kind of man I was getting. I’m glad to see you have some faults. Though I’m not sure falling for someone like Claire Holmes is a fault.” He smiled.
“I haven’t fallen for her.” My frown let up, but only slightly.
Riggs sipped his coffee, studying me over the rim of the mug for several seconds before he pushed away from the counter. I could tell he didn’t believe me. I wasn’t sure I believed myself.
“Go home, Detective. Make sure you foster a life outside of this place, yeah?”
I turned, my gaze tracking my boss as he walked toward the door. “What about you? You’re still here at this hour on a Saturday. Are you trying to tell me not to turn into you?”
Riggs stopped at the door and smiled broadly, his gray eyes warm. “No. I’m not a workaholic. I just came in to check on things after spending this morning and afternoon with my kids. I’ve got another hour before dinner at the real, finest dining establishment in Parker’s Landing—my wife’s kitchen—is ready.” With a wink, he pushed through the door and disappeared.
I took another sip of the bitter coffee in my mug as I stared after him. Grimacing, I walked over to the sink and dumped it.
After rinsing the mug, I set it down, then braced my hands on the counter’s edge and stared at the wall, considering the chief’s words.
He had a point. Claire wouldn’t have to testify. She didn’t see anything. Only found the body and the car. Others could corroborate her whereabouts for Marie’s time of death—though the jury was still out on the car. We didn’t know how long it had been in the woods.
But her prints weren’t on or in it. Nor had the techs found any long blonde hairs. She didn’t strike me as the type who would know how to scrub any traces of herself from a crime scene. Or as a psychopath. Because it would be that kind of person who would hide a car, then “find” it so they could insert themselves into the investigation.
Besides, she had no motive for the murder.
I really didn’t know who did, if not Warren.
Closing my eyes, I ran a hand over my face. My brain was running in circles. And now I got to add in the problem of what to do about Claire.
Riggs had virtually given me his blessing. My reason for keeping her at arm’s length was gone.
The one I stated, anyway.
Was I ready for the kind of commitment a woman like Claire required? I was only thirty-one. I had friends who hadn’t married until they were nearly forty. I’d always assumed that would be me. My career had come first for over a decade. Relationships had ended because I couldn’t ignore work calls. Would Claire understand that sometimes I had to go? Up here, especially, it wasn’t like there was someone who could fill in for me at the drop of a hat. There wasn’t another unit that could take up the slack if I didn’t answer.
I straightened and scooped my mug off the counter. Playing “what if” wouldn’t answer any of my questions. The only way to know was to ask. And to live it.
Pushing through the breakroom door, I headed for Riggs’s office and poked my head inside after a quick knock. “Hey. Other than your wife’s kitchen, what’s the finest dining establishment in Parker’s Landing?”