23
In the early morning’s light, Evan trudged toward the sheriff’s department employee entrance. The night before, it’d been difficult to fall asleep after the prison visit. His mind had traveled down too many tangents, looking for answers. At 3:00 a.m., he still hadn’t figured out why Rod had visited Damian Collinson in prison. Rowan had complained about the bags under her eyes that morning and then instantly apologized. “I’ve got no right to whine,” she’d told him. “We still have each other, and I’m thankful for that.”
Inside the department, he greeted a few people as he strode down the stark hall. One officer stopped him. Govier had been around forever. A cop’s cop. But Evan had never seen his eyes as sad as they were today.
Here come more condolences.
“Detective,” said Govier. “I’m so sorry about McLeod. He was one of the good ones. We went back a long way.”
“He spoke highly of you,” said Evan.
“Thanks.” The older cop was restless, his hands moving from item to item on his belt. “I just talked to him a few weeks ago. Bumped into him at Ed’s Tavern.”
Over the past few days, Evan had heard several stories about Rod that started this way. He tried to lighten the situation. “Would have been odd if you hadn’t seen him there.”
Govier gave a half grin. “True. We both like to shoot the shit. Bitch about suspects and everyone else.” He frowned. “Never dreamed that’d be the last time I talked to him. We saw a lot of crap together over the years.”
Evan clapped the cop on the shoulder, giving a firm squeeze. “I bet. We’ll all miss him.”
Somehow it’s become my role to comfort people.
“He was proud of you,” Govier said, meeting Evan’s gaze. “Said you were a good detective. I know you’ll figure this shit out and get the guy.”
Evan’s heart twinged. He’d now heard that several times. Each time it stabbed a little deeper.
He took a breath and mentally searched the files he’d recently read, trying to recall if Govier’s name had popped up.
Collinson.
“Say, did Rod ever talk to you about the Golden Goose case?”
“The jewelry robberies? Funny you say that. We talked about it the last time I saw him.”
A mild electric current went through Evan’s extremities. “Yeah? What did he say?”
Govier rubbed his chin as he thought. “I was one of the first responders to the Goose. He knew that fact, which I thought was odd because he never worked on the case. It was Durette’s.”
Evan nodded, impatient for the cop to keep speaking.
“We talked about a half dozen cases that night,” said Govier. “Don’t really remember what we discussed specifically on that one.”
“Do you recall which other cases?”
“Aw, shit. You would ask me that. There was a lot of beer involved, you know.”
“Could be important,” said Evan. Tension tightened in his neck.
Govier’s brows shot up. “Oh yeah?” He frowned, clearly thinking hard. “Let’s see. Ummm ... the shooting at Home Depot. Two dead—that was an old one.”
And one of the cases in Rod’s filing cabinet.
“We talked about the Livingston assault down in the Old Mill area. Dude nearly killed his wife. Man, that was an ugly scene. I was one of the first there. I don’t know how she lived.”
Not in the filing cabinet.
Evan made a mental note to review the Livingston case. Possibly it was one of the missing ones. He recalled the woman had been in a coma for weeks.
“And we talked about the love triangle case,” continued Govier. “Guy shot and killed the husband when he was caught with his wife. It was self-defense ’cause the husband pulled a gun. He got off.”
“The Meyers case,” said Evan. It wasn’t in Rod’s filing cabinet, but Evan knew it very well because he’d teamed with Rod on the investigation. But Rod had only photocopied cases that had ended in a successful prosecution.
I’m interested in bitter people getting out of prison.
“I was on the scene for that one,” said Govier with a shudder. “Brains everywhere.”
“I remember all too clearly,” said Evan.
Govier was still thinking. “Not sure what other ones we talked about.” He looked sharply at Evan. “You think it was someone from an old case of his?”
“Looking at all the possibilities,” said Evan, keeping it vague.
Govier snorted. “Guess I had that coming. I’ll let you know if I remember any others.” He raised a hand at Evan and continued on his way.
Evan headed down the hall to the “war room,” as he now thought of their conference room for the cases. He turned the knob on the war room’s door and nearly banged his nose on the door as it stayed locked in place.
He could tell a light inside was on, so he’d assumed it was unlocked. He knocked and then dug in his pocket for the key.
“Bolton!”
He looked up to see his lieutenant, Louis Ogden, speed walking down the hall, trying not to spill anything from the WORLD ’ S GREATEST BOSS mug in his hand. “In my office.” Louis jerked his head and turned around.
What is it this time?
Evan had assumed the collection of his fingerprints had checked out fine since he’d heard nothing the day before, so he hoped that Louis had something helpful for their investigations and not a lecture. He caught up to his lieutenant. “What’s up, Lou?”
Louis shot him a look. Some of the detectives called him Lou-Lou, as in “Lieutenant Louis.” He didn’t like it and clearly had expected Evan to say it.
He knows I don’t call him that.
Unease settled in Evan’s chest. Louis was antsy again, like he’d been the other day when he told Evan his prints had shown up in Rod’s home. He followed Louis into his office and kept his face neutral, but something told him bad news was coming.
“Sit.”
Evan sat.
His lieutenant dropped into his chair on the opposite side of the desk. He hadn’t looked Evan in the eye since they’d entered the room. Not a good sign.
Evan waited.
Louis sighed, wrapped both hands around his coffee mug, and finally looked at Evan. “There wasn’t a mess-up with your prints. They came back the same as before. What’s new is that your prints also turned up in Sophia McLeod’s home.”
The floor seemed to drop away under Evan’s feet, and he was thankful he was sitting. “That can’t be right.” His voice didn’t sound like him. “Sophia’s home had been determined to be a crime scene before I got there. I touched nothing in the home. And I’d never visited her at that house. She hasn’t lived there very long.”
“They’ve got your prints on the broken glass from the back door and on the counter in the bathroom.”
“I touched neither one.” A loud ringing started inside Evan’s head, and sweat broke out on his upper lip.
This isn’t happening.
“This is bullshit! Is this some sort of joke?” Evan asked.
“No joke.” Louis looked him dead in the eye. “I need your badge, weapon, and keys. You’re on suspension until this gets straightened out.”
“You’re suspending me?” Fury made Evan see red. “You know this isn’t right!” He took a deep breath and thought back to walking through Sophia’s bloody house. “Wait. At the scene, Noelle told me there were no prints on the back door’s knob—we’d discussed that it was premeditated since the person must have brought gloves. You’re saying my prints are on the glass but not on the doorknob? What kind of stupid criminal does that?”
“I can’t explain anything, Evan. I just know what information is in front of me.” Louis cleared his throat. “And you need to turn over Rod’s computer tower.”
Evan blinked. “What ... what are you talking about?”
“The missing tower. The one you have for sale on Craigslist.”
Sweat spread to other parts of his body. “I don’t have anything for sale on Craigslist. I’ve never used that site.”
Louis sighed. “We found an old receipt for the tower in Rod’s office, so we know what kind it is. It’s normal to scour resale sites for stolen items—”
“Don’t tell me how to do my job,” Evan snapped. “I knew about the receipt and had Coates checking the sites.”
“When it turned up, we subpoenaed the site for the email associated with the seller. It’s a Gmail with your first and last name in the address.”
I didn’t hear about a subpoena.
Someone on the investigation had gone to Louis behind his back.
Who?
“I don’t have a Gmail with my name in the address,” Evan said, trying to keep his voice steady. “But I got a spam Craigslist email the other day ...” He thought hard. “Possibly it wasn’t spam. It had asked if some item was still available, and I deleted it. But how would that end up in my actual email if the posting was set up under a fake email?” He held Louis’s gaze. “Do you think I’m stupid enough to put a stolen item on Craigslist within days of it going missing?”
“All I know is the information that I have in front of me,” Louis repeated, breaking their eye contact. “Yes, a lot of this seems unlike you—”
“ All of it is unlike me. This is my fucking job, Louis. I take a lot of pride in what I do. I’m not a dishonest person, and I put everything I have into doing the best investigation possible.”
“I’ve known you a long time, Evan. This doesn’t make sense to me either. But until I get to the bottom of it, I can’t have you on the job.”
Evan got to his feet and paced the small office. “You know this isn’t right. I don’t know what the fuck is going on—but it feels like I’ve got a target on my back.” He stopped and looked at Louis. “You know I was almost shot the other day. Twice. And someone burned down Rowan’s house! Where we live together! ”
His mind sped in circles. He’d written off the idea that it seemed like shitty things were purposefully happening to him—because that didn’t happen in real life.
I was right. Someone wants me out of the way.
Who?
“You can’t take me off Rod’s case,” Evan stated forcefully. “We both know I’m our best chance to find out what happened.”
“Detectives Marshall, Shults, and Nelson have got things under control.” Louis snorted. “An all-female team. We’ll have to call them Charlie’s—no, Louis’s Angels.” A grin filled his face.
Evan just stared. “You’re making jokes—fucking distasteful jokes—when I’m about to lose my job.”
Louis’s expression immediately went serious. “You’re not losing your job,” he said in a condescending tone. “It’s just temporary until we figure out what’s going on.”
“You think I stole a computer tower from Rod McLeod,” Evan said through gritted teeth as he stopped to glare at Louis. “And you think I left my prints all over two crime scenes. So what I’m hearing is that you think I’m an idiot who hasn’t even watched a damned episode of CSI . Not a detective who’s solved cases for over a decade. Are you kidding me? ”
“All I know—”
“Do not say that to me again .” Evan removed his gun and carefully set it on his lieutenant’s desk. He did the same with his identification, badge, and keys and then added his work cell phone, ignoring a childish urge to slam it down. Without another word, he opened the office door and then closed it loudly behind him. A few faces glanced his way. From the corner of his eye, he saw a deputy do a double take. If his face reflected a fraction of the anger he had inside, he must look ready to strangle someone.
He heard the lieutenant’s door open behind him. “Can someone give you a ride home?” Louis asked.
He wants my vehicle.
“As soon as I get my shit out of it.” Evan kept walking.
“Laptop too.”
Evan stopped and turned around. “Anything else?”
Louis’s cheeks were flushed. “Not that I can think of.” He glanced at the employees who’d stopped what they were doing to watch.
Evan nodded and continued his trek toward the exit.
I’ll Uber. It’ll give me a chance to cool down before I talk to Rowan.
“Evan?” Noelle was coming down another hallway, her jacket still on and a to-go carrier with two cups in her hand. “Where are you going?” She held out the tray, and he automatically took the cup with “USA” written on it. Noelle always bought him an Americano. The chai was hers.
“I’m going home.”
Her forehead furrowed. “You don’t look great. Are you sick?”
“You could say that.”
Someone on the investigation went behind my back.
He had a hard time believing it could be Noelle. “I’m suspended. My prints were confirmed at Rod’s scene and also at Sophia’s.”
Her coffee carrier dipped dangerously, and his hand shot out to steady it.
“What?” Noelle’s mouth opened and closed several times. “They suspended you? There’s clearly an error with the prints. Ogden is a blind ass if he can’t see that.”
Evan stepped close to her and lowered his voice. “Do you trust me, Noelle?” He searched her eyes as he continued to hold one edge of the coffee tray.
She stared back for a long moment. Confusion and then clarity flitted in her gaze. “With my life,” she whispered.
“I’m being targeted,” Evan said. “I don’t know why, and I don’t know who, but whoever it is has access to our investigation and can communicate up the chain.”
I said it out loud.
It felt right. It was the only thing that made sense. It was someone in the department.
Noelle straightened, pulling back the slightest bit and tugging on the tray. Evan let go and held her gaze. “Do you know what you’re saying?” she hissed in a whisper.
“I know exactly what I’m saying. I’ve been shot at, Rowan’s house burned down, and my prints are places I never touched. I’ve also been accused of stealing evidence and trying to sell it online.”
“Are they mad?” Shock filled her eyes. “What is going on?”
Evan was grim as the events of the last few days suddenly sank in. “I don’t know. But ...” He stopped as a new thought occurred to him. “Maybe Rod had discovered something that ... someone here didn’t want him to know.”
Unease filled her face. “And now they don’t want you finding the same. But what about me? We’re on the same cases and nothing has happened to me ... yet.”
“It feels personal,” admitted Evan.
“I need you on these cases,” urged Noelle. “Maxine and Lori are great, but you’re our team leader. You know these victims.”
“It’s out of my hands.” He’d never felt so untethered. In a matter of seconds, Louis Ogden had yanked away Evan’s identity and a huge piece of his self-worth. He was in law enforcement to help others. The need to help people was part of his DNA. He hadn’t joined Deschutes County for an ego boost and guns. He’d wanted his life to have purpose.
Now it’d all been ripped away.
And he felt empty.
“They have my phone, so you’ll have to use my personal number,” Evan said numbly.
She said nothing and just looked at him.
Noelle can’t call me about a case I’m no longer on.
“Shit.” He would have to shake his investigation mindset. “Please keep me in the loop,” he said in a quiet voice. “Sophia and Rod are my friends.”
“I know.” She looked about to cry. “I can’t believe how wrong this is. I’ll figure out who did this to you.”
“No. Concentrate on finding Sophia.”
Evan would investigate his own mess.
No one can stop me from doing that.
He gave her a one-armed hug, holding the cup of coffee she’d kindly bought him and avoiding the off-balanced carrier in her hand. “It’ll be okay,” he said lamely. “Good luck.”
He hated the weak phrases. His mind was full of forceful words, but none were appropriate at the moment.
The look in Noelle’s eyes said she understood. “I’ll call you.”
Evan nodded and blindly turned away, heading for the exit again.
How will I explain this to Rowan?