Chapter 2 #4
“That last part isn’t like you,” Julian replied, monitoring her movements as she pushed away from her desk.
She set her coffee down again, intending to pull the side drawer open and snatch the bottle of antacids she kept in the front.
She stopped herself just in time, because she didn’t want or need a lecture from him about her health.
“You don’t give up. That’s what made you a great detective. ”
“I can’t create evidence where there is none, Julian.”
“Then go back to the basics.” Julian lowered his legs and leaned forward. “People usually get killed for one of four things. Lust, love, loathing, or loot. The rest of it is paperwork.”
“I’d be guessing at each.” Hadley needed something to do if she wasn’t going to retrieve the bottle of antacids, so she took the time to turn on her computer.
“And before you bring up Kalen Telfort again, I believe his claim that he didn’t kill Reed.
I don’t think his murder had anything to do with the investigation into Missy Claymont’s disappearance or the Telforts. Which leaves me with—”
“Lust. The married girlfriend, the jealous boyfriend, the affair somebody didn’t know about,” Julian recited, lifting three fingers in a row. He then lowered them to start again. “Love. The fight that went too far. The protective parent. The friend who couldn’t take it one more time.”
“Reed was engaged to be married. They were happy, and there was no gossip floating around this town to indicate otherwise.” Hadley let her computer do its thing as she reached for her mug.
She really needed a refill. “Loathing, on the other hand, is something I could work with, considering Reed was the police chief. A grudge. A slight. Maybe something that festered. Unfortunately, I’ve been over his reports and found nothing that would indicate he’d pissed someone off enough for them to resort to murder. ”
“What about loot?” Julian asked as his cell phone rang. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he finished his point. “Did he owe someone money? Did he have a life insurance policy? Who benefited monetarily with him out of the picture?”
“Reed’s finances came back clean, and he only had enough life insurance to cover his burial,” Hadley informed him before gesturing toward his cell phone. “Answer it, Julian.”
“Ramos.” Julian listened intently, his gaze steady on Hadley. He then checked his watch. “I can be there in thirty. Yeah. Just tell him to wait.”
“Duty calls,” Julian announced after disconnecting the call.
He stood, leaving the chair pushed back as he stepped around the desk.
He closed the distance between them, embracing her one last time, mindful of her coffee.
“Seriously, don’t be such a stranger, Hadley.
I mean it. Pick up the damn phone when I call. ”
“I will,” Hadley promised, giving him a pat on the arm as he stepped away. “Tell everyone hi for me.”
“And let you out of returning a text or an email? I don’t think so,” Julian said with a laugh.
He walked toward the door, grabbed the knob, but stopped short of pulling it open.
Instead, he glanced her way before pointedly staring at Reed’s desk.
The one she had not touched in almost a year.
“Whether or not you catch the sick bastard who killed Langley, maybe it’s time to say goodbye.
I’ve never met the man, but from everything I’ve heard, he wouldn’t want you stuck in the past. You know where to reach me if you need anything. ”
Julian didn’t wait for her to respond. He pulled the front door open and stepped out into the bright September morning, the door closing gently behind him.
The first thing Hadley did was walk around her desk, open the drawer, and retrieve the bottle of antacids.
As she chewed, her gaze went to the chair Julian had been sitting in.
She thought about Mason, probably alone in his shed on a Monday morning, with the radio on or the radio off, sober or already two beers in, no way to know which from here.
Maybe she was stuck in the past.
She found herself wondering a lot lately if she’d done the right thing turning in her detective shield.
The investigation into Reed’s death had stalled within the first month, and most days she still went through the same files searching for something she’d missed the last time.
Eleven months into the investigation, and not a single new lead to show for any of it.
Julian had been right about one thing. Whatever she’d been doing wasn’t working.
Maybe it really was time to take a different approach.
Mrs. Foster complained weekly that she didn’t have a place to sit and that it would be nice if Hadley offered her coffee every now and then.
There were some extra chairs in the back of the house that would be perfect on either side of the window overlooking Main Street.
She’d even ask Mason to make her a small coffee table to fit between them, which would give her a legitimate reason to stop by the house.
If Hadley were to implement such a sitting area, she’d finally have to deal with the one thing she’d been avoiding since she’d taken over as police chief. She’d have to clean out Reed’s desk and then move it to storage.
It was time, though.
It was time to move forward.