Chapter 6 #3
“Just,” Reed said with a small laugh. Jamison had moved up the ranks quickly.
With DA Katherine Okano permanently retiring after being on the job twice, there had been opportunities available in the district attorney’s office, and Jamison had taken advantage of them.
It didn’t hurt that his father, Harrison Kittle, had paved the way.
Harrison senior had once worked in the very office Jamison now occupied and, after being elected DA, had eventually become a federal judge.
Jamison seemed to be on the fast track, following in his father’s footsteps.
“So how about we get a cup of coffee, or sweet tea, or whatever, and you fill me in?” Jamison suggested. “I’ve been cooped up all day. Missed lunch.”
Reed grabbed his jacket before following Jamison outside and across the street to a local coffee shop, where Jamison ordered a sweet tea and a shrimp po’boy with a side of fried green tomatoes and Reed settled for a regular coffee.
“As I said, I missed lunch,” Jamison explained as they sat at a shaded table in the back of the bistro.
Birds hopped from the branches of the trees overhead or picked at crumbs that had fallen to the brick patio.
A small waterfall gurgled in one corner, and potted plants were strategically placed to give the illusion of privacy, though the area was nearly deserted.
As soft jazz played from hidden speakers, a woman in her twenties sat in the corner, earbuds visible in her ears, her concentration on her open laptop as she sipped coffee.
Another couple was picking at pastries while paying attention to no one but each other.
A waitress brought their order, and Jamison tucked his tie into his shirt before digging in.
As he ate, Reed brought him up to speed on the investigation, including what they’d discovered at the scene, their focus on Billy Huber’s ever-growing list of enemies, and the circumstances of how he’d died.
“I’ll be getting a preliminary autopsy report today, possibly tomorrow morning, but Ito was convinced someone killed Billy Huber, probably someone with a serious grudge.
As it turns out, we could have more suspects than usual.
Estranged family members, neighbors who didn’t get along, acquaintances who didn’t like him.
” Reed sipped from his cup and watched as the woman in the corner closed her laptop and tucked it into a case.
“You know, a lot of times we hear what a nice guy the murder victim was, how they didn’t have an enemy in the world.
This time, it’s just the opposite. Billy Huber didn’t seem to get along with anyone. ”
“That right?”
“So far, no one has a kind word to say about the guy.”
“Anyone at the top of the list?”
“Not yet.” He shook his head and leaned back in his chair.
“We’re trying to weed out anyone who could possibly have been in the area.
But the time of death is uncertain, his body having started to decompose and with the storm and all.
The lab is still working on it, testing the condition of his stomach contents and his eyes. It’ll take a while for the blood work.”
Jamison finished his sandwich, wadding the checkered paper and tossing it into the trash. “Anything else interesting?”
“Nothing certain, but there is one thing that bothers me.”
“Only one?” Jamison asked, smiling.
“There is an oddity.”
“What kind of oddity?”
“Probably nothing, but there was a stone that seemed to be wedged under the body. One of the deputies noticed it.”
“A rock?”
“Take a look.” Reed pulled out his phone and sorted through several pictures he’d taken at the scene.
When he found the shots of the rock, he handed the phone to Jamison.
“The stone is clean. Polished. The weather has been bad, lots of rain and wind, debris everywhere. And there were no insects or larvae or eggs under it. Nothing but bent grass. It might have come from Billy’s pocket …
but …” Reed thought hard, watching a white cat slink behind a potted palm. “Like I said, probably nothing.”
“You think it was placed under the body by the killer?”
“I wouldn’t go that far yet, but it seemed out of place, even with all the clutter in the barnyard.
” Reed watched the cat hop nimbly onto a table and then the top of the fence.
“Huber was an odd duck, no doubt about it. A hoarder. Junk everywhere, except for paths and walkways and a small clearing where the body was found.”
Jamison narrowed his eyes as he studied the picture of the rock. “What’s the significance of the number? Nine, right?”
“Or six. Impossible to tell.”
“A rock with a number scratched into it … hmm.”
“Not scratched. Etched. Probably with some kind of specialized tool,” Reed added. He’d learned that much from the lab where it was being tested. “We’re trying to make sense of it.” He pointed to his phone. “Take a look at the next shot of the other side of the rock.”
Jamison swiped the screen and squinted at the image. “Writing of some kind.”
“Looks like.”
“A message?” Jamison frowned as he handed the phone back to Reed. “That someone, presumably the killer, placed under Huber’s body?”
“Maybe it’s just another piece of his junk collection.”
“Or a talisman?”
“A talisman?” Reed shook his head at the thought of the stone being a good luck charm. “If it was, it was a piss-poor one. The only luck Billy Huber had was bad.”