Chapter Thirty-four
Audrey sat at her laptop, staring at the screen. She had spent the last twenty minutes doing a Google search on Billy Sawyer, hoping to dig up anything useful—an old mug shot, a newspaper clipping, anything that might give her a clearer picture of the man buried in the Barker backyard.
But nothing came up.
No images, no photographs, no social media remnants—just scattered mentions of a missing persons report and some vague references in old crime logs.
Audrey frowned. Billy was arrested a few times—probably right here in Halibut Cove. There had to be a mug shot on file somewhere. If the police had booked him, his photo should exist in some dusty archive or digital record.
And if it did, Audrey was determined to find it.
Audrey texted Maggie, who was at the grocery store, that she was going out and would be back soon.
Half an hour later, Audrey pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the Halibut Cove Public Library and immediately heard the unmistakable clomp, clomp, clomp of Mrs. Whishaw’s sensible orthopedic shoes against the hardwood floor.
“Audrey Holbrook! No running! This is a library, dear!” Her voice boomed, shattering the peaceful silence.
Audrey, who hadn’t even been moving that fast, sighed. “I know, Mrs. Whishaw.”
The elderly librarian clomped closer, hands on her hips, as if ready to lecture Audrey on proper library etiquette, but instead, she squinted at her.
“What brings you here? Let me guess, you’re trying to dig up dirt on someone again!” Mrs. Whishaw cackled as if she’d just cracked the case of the century.
Audrey forced a smile. “Just looking for an old newspaper article from about thirty years ago. Arrest records.”
“Police beat section?” Mrs. Whishaw’s eyes twinkled with nosy enthusiasm as she waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll get the microfilm.”
The librarian clomped off, leaving Audrey standing in front of the desk. She took a breath, glancing around at the handful of patrons in the library—one of whom was a sweet-looking old woman whispering to a friend at a nearby table.
Mrs. Whishaw returned, dragging a heavy file drawer behind her. She set it down with a dramatic thud before glaring at the old woman.
“Betty! I must have told you a hundred times! This is a library! Keep your voice down!”
The woman flushed and muttered a quick apology.
Audrey bit her lip, suppressing a laugh. Mrs. Whishaw was the only librarian she knew who seemed to be the loudest person in the building.
Together, they went through decades-old newspapers that had yet to be digitized, scanning the police beat section. Finally, Audrey found an article mentioning Billy’s arrest for disorderly conduct outside a bar.
But there was no photo.
Audrey groaned. “There has to be a mug shot somewhere.”
Mrs. Whishaw shrugged. “If he was arrested, it’s probably in the police files.”
Which meant one thing.
Audrey was going to have to get her mother involved.
Audrey strolled into the Halibut Cove Police Department, mentally preparing for battle. She found Jill sitting at her desk, typing away, her expression focused.
Audrey cleared her throat. “Mom, I need a favor.”
Jill didn’t look up. “No.”
Audrey blinked. “I didn’t even tell you what it is yet.”
Jill paused her typing, finally meeting Audrey’s gaze. “You want me to pull a mug shot from the police database. I’m saying no before you even ask. Mrs. Whishaw already called to tell me you were on your way.”
Audrey sighed.
What a gossip.
Audrey exhaled. “Mom, Billy Sawyer was arrested in this very town. There has to be a mug shot in the system.”
Jill leaned back in her chair. “And? You’re not a cop, Audrey.”
Audrey gritted her teeth. “This could help your case.”
“From my vantage point, the case is already solved. Bert and Rhonda Barker have been arrested.”
“I just have a hunch there is more to the story. Don’t you want to know if there’s something bigger going on?”
Jill crossed her arms. “What I want is for you to stay out of my investigation. Correction. Investigations.”
Audrey knew there was no point arguing. Instead, she turned on her heel, heading straight for Mason’s desk.
Mason looked up warily as Audrey plopped into the chair opposite him.
“Hey, Mason. I need a favor.”
Mason, ever-gullible, glanced toward Jill’s office, then back at Audrey. “Uh, what kind of favor?”
Audrey grinned. “I need you to look up a name in the database. Mom said it was okay.”
Mason’s brows furrowed. “She did?”
Audrey nodded enthusiastically. “Yep. She totally gave me permission.”
Mason, clearly not wanting to risk angering Jill, hesitated. But after a long pause, he turned to his computer and began typing.
“Who are we looking up?”
“Billy Sawyer,” Audrey said, leaning in.
After a few clicks, Mason whistled. “Whoa. Here we go. Multiple arrests, mostly for bar fights and disorderly conduct.”
Then the mug shot appeared.
Audrey’s breath caught.
There, staring back at her, was Billy Sawyer’s face.
And there was no denying it.
Phoebe was his daughter.
The resemblance was uncanny—same nose, same sharp cheekbones, same fiery eyes.
Mason glanced at her. “You okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”
Audrey nodded slowly. “Print that out for me.”
Just as Mason clicked the print button, Jill walked in.
“What are you two doing?”
Mason froze.
Audrey shot him a warning glance.
Mason fumbled for an excuse. “Uh, we were just, um … looking up my favorite band.”
“What band?”
“Car Seat Headrest,” Mason blurted out.
“Never heard of ’em,” Jill said.
“Uh, well, they’re an alternative band, more popular with the Gen Z crowd.”
Jill narrowed her eyes. “Mason, I swear if you and Audrey are up to something …”
Audrey grinned. “Relax, Mom. Mason’s just expanding my music taste beyond Billie Eilish.”
Jill shook her head. “Okay, fine. But just please tell me nothing’s going on between you two. I couldn’t handle my deputy dating my daughter.”
Audrey snorted. “Trust me, Mason is not my type.”
Mason, pretending not to be offended, turned to Audrey. “Wait, what is your type, then?”
Audrey grabbed the printed mug shot and bolted for the door. “Thanks, Mason. Can’t wait to check ’em out!”
Audrey arrived at the Barker home, where Rhonda was home alone.
Rhonda let her in, offering tea or coffee, but Audrey was too focused.
After a few pleasantries, Audrey placed the mug shot on the table in front of Rhonda.
“Notice anything peculiar?”
Rhonda’s eyes flicked to the image. At first, she shook her head, feigning indifference.
“No,” she said, but her hands trembled.
Audrey leaned forward. “Phoebe looks exactly like him.”
Rhonda sat frozen.
“Come on, Mrs. Barker, you can’t tell me you don’t see it.”
Rhonda’s expression cracked. She let out a shaky breath, tears forming in her eyes.
“Yes,” she whispered. “It’s true. Billy was Phoebe’s real father.”
Audrey sat back, absorbing the weight of the revelation. “Does Mr. Barker know?”
Rhonda nodded slightly. “I always suspected Bert knew. But he loved her so much, it never mattered.” Rhonda’s voice trembled as she spoke of that fateful night. “Poor Bert. He was only trying to protect me, and now he may spend the rest of his life in prison.”
Audrey remembered something in Lou Grady’s article.
“There was a source close to Griffin Mead,” she murmured. “Lou Grady mentioned something about it in his article.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s hearsay, but there’s a chance that maybe Griffin Mead recently, like before he drowned, confided to this person what he actually saw that night.”
Rhonda looked up sharply. “What?”
“Maybe if we find this person, we can help prove it was self-defense.”
Rhonda flinched.
Audrey noticed a trace of panic in her expression.
“What is it, Rhonda?”
“N-nothing, I just don’t see what good it will do at this point to keep digging into this—”
“It could help get the charges against you and Bert dismissed!”
Rhonda couldn’t argue.
And Audrey suddenly wanted to know why she was hesitant to find someone who could corroborate their story.
Audrey picked up Maggie and filled her in. Together, they tracked down Lou Grady at the Halibut Cove Chronicle.
Lou leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Can’t reveal sources. Journalistic ethics.”
Maggie snorted. “Lou, don’t act like you’ve ever in your life had a whiff of ethics.”
Lou grinned. “Fair point.”
Maggie thought for a moment. “Who’s the source? A friend? A girlfriend?”
Lou hesitated.
Maggie’s eyes twinkled. “I know this town, Lou.”
Audrey watched as realization dawned on Maggie’s face.
“Adelaide Hutchins,” Maggie said triumphantly.
Audrey blinked. “Who?”
“I saw her around town a few times with Griffin after his wife died. Also they sat in the same pew at Sunday services. They appeared close but didn’t seem to want to go public with whatever was going on between them.” Maggie turned sharply to Lou. “Am I right, Lou?”
He shrugged, but the slight grin on his face told her she had just nailed it.
“What did she tell you?” Maggie pressed.
Lou sighed. “Just that Griffin had a story to tell about the night Billy Sawyer was killed, but when I asked her for details, she refused to say anything more out of respect for his wishes.”
Audrey sat up, excited. “How do we find her?”
“She goes to the pancake breakfast at the firehouse. Every third Sunday of the month,” Maggie said.
“She won’t talk. I tried everything. Pressure, charm, bribery. Nothing worked.”
“I have one advantage that you don’t, Lou,” Maggie said.
Lou looked at her curiously. “What’s that?”
“I’m not you.”