Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Sam stepped into Clara Hartwell’s cramped office, the smell of aged paper and dust heavy in the air. The hum of the overhead fluorescent light buzzed faintly as she looked up from her desk, her reading glasses perched low on her nose.
“Chief Mason,” Clara said, setting down a stack of maps. “Didn’t expect to see you today. Sergeant Harris was just here.”
“Oh, right… I’m just double-checking that I have things straight.” Sam pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled to the photo of Beryl and Derek.
Clara adjusted her glasses, leaning in to examine the picture. “This is the same picture she showed me.”
“It is,” Sam said, keeping his tone even. “Just double-checking that this is the man that came in last week looking for maps of Garvin’s land.” He enlarged the image to show Derek McDaniels.
Clara squinted at the photo, her brow furrowing. “Him? Oh, no. Not him.” She pointed to the back of the image, her finger landing squarely on a figure just visible near the edge. “That one. The man in the background.”
Sam’s eyes shifted to where she was pointing. Desmond Griggs.
His gut tightened, though he kept his face neutral. “You’re sure?”
“Positive,” Clara replied, straightening in her chair. “That’s the man who came in asking about the blueprints. He seemed particularly interested in the property lines between Garvin’s land on River Road and the adjoining parcels.”
Sam nodded, slipping the phone back into his pocket. “Thanks, Clara. That’s helpful.”
Clara smiled faintly. “Glad to assist. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“I will,” Sam said, already heading for the door.
Outside, Sam paused on the steps, letting the cold air clear his head. Griggs. The man was a known troublemaker, but what the heck was he doing asking about Garvin’s land? And how did he connect to Beryl Thorne? Did he work for her? He’d been at Marnie’s campaign office. How did it all tie in?
The picture was shifting. Sam replayed his earlier conversation with Derek in his mind. Maybe the son was telling the truth after all. He hadn’t been the one poking around the surveyor’s office. Sam would still check Derek’s alibis, but now, he suspected they might pan out.
Sam exhaled sharply and headed for his car. One thing was certain—Beryl Thorne’s fingerprints were all over this mess. From her meeting with Derek to the envelope she’d handed Marnie, it all circled back to her. She was the common denominator.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, Sam made a mental note. Next stop: Parker Studies. Whatever Beryl had her hands in, it started there. And this time, he wasn’t walking away without answers.