“Nothing will happen to Josh,” Adrian said. He took a long breath and said, “Look, something isn’t right here. There’s something different about the M.O. on this one, partner. If the person thought you were involved they’d be threatening you, not Josh. Nate didn’t mention anyone he cared about getting threatened to you nor does it appear he did to the CPD. That’s not the only thing that bothers me,” Adrian said.
“What else, buddy? I’m grasping at straws here.”
“Okay, I don’t mean this to sound as bad as it’s going to, but here goes. If this person was really intent on hurting Josh, then they would’ve done it by now. Instead they issued a warning, then a second warning, and now a third warning? Come on. It’s like those movie villains who never stop talking.” Adrian deepened his voice into his best villain voice and said, “I’m going to kill you, but not until I tell you everything I did wrong from the third grade until now. In fact, chances are you might die of boredom before I pull the trigger.”
As tense as the situation was, I couldn’t help but laugh at Adrian and acknowledge the truth in his words. Being objective when it came to Josh’s safety, was the hardest thing I’d ever tried to do. I realized that breaking up with him wasn’t the answer, but I wondered if he’d let me put him on a plane and send him to his parents.
We showed our badges to the receptionist and she directed us where to go. Myrna Evans’ office was similar to something you’d see on TV. The wall between her office and the reporters’ cubicles was made of glass so she could keep an eye on them.
I knocked on her glass door and she waved us in then rose to her feet. “Detectives,” she said, greeting us. She gestured to the items she mentioned on the phone that were on her desk. Sure enough, there was a picture taken from the night before in Josh’s salon. It was of the kiss we shared after Josh had confessed why he’d chosen the majors he had. His words gutted me, but the love and passion in his kiss stitched me back together. At first, I could only stare at how beautiful and happy we looked. We were opposites in our builds, our coloring, and even our personalities, but we meshed.Dear Lord, did we mesh beautifully.Buddy was curled up at my feet to protect me in case Josh tried to cut my hair in a cut that didn’t flatter me, or so Josh had said.
“You should frame that one and hang it up,” Adrian said beside me.
“It’s a lovely picture,” Myrna agreed, “but the message that came with it isn’t.”
“Off the record?” Adrian asked. She nodded and he said, “We are taking this very seriously.”
“I’d hate to see anything happen to him,” she said. I expected her to say something like she didn’t want to find a new hair stylist, but instead she said, “He worked here during high school and he was such a delight to be around.” I was glad to know that people saw Josh as more than someone who styled their hair.
“He is that,” I agreed. Adrian and I slid latex gloves on then placed the photo, message, and the envelope in an evidence bag. “We’ll need you to come down to the station to be fingerprinted,” I told Myrna, “so we can determine if there are any prints besides yours on these items.” Myrna agreed to stop by the station on her lunch hour.
“Partner, this seems personal; like someone doesn’t want you with Josh,” Adrian said as we left the newspaper office.
Billy Sampson’s face came to mind and I couldn’t discount the fact that he was appearing at places that either Josh by himself or the both of us were. Josh was adamant that he left the grocery store without the diapers he said he was buying and I had a hard time believing that he was retrieving things from a storage unit at the exact same time that Josh and I went to see Charlotte. There was too much coincidence for my liking.
“I’m going to call the newspapers in Cincinnati to see if any of them received threats about Nate’s life,” I told Adrian. I silently made a note to call the office manager of the storage unit and find out if Billy did own a unit there or he followed us. I could pretend to be him and ask when my next bill was due and see if I got a response.
The captain was waiting for us when we got back to the station, coat on and ready to go. He surprised both Adrian and me by getting in the back seat of my car. Adrian shrugged and rode up front with me out to the sheriff’s department. Once we arrived, the captain’s countenance changed completely. He’d always been very professional, but he looked like a total hard ass when we walked in.
“I’m here to see Sheriff Tucker,” he announced crisply to the desk sergeant. Hell, I was ready to salute him.
“He’s been expecting you,” she said politely. “I’m sure you know the way.” I heard a buzzing, followed by the sound of the door unlocking.
The captain pushed the door open and we followed behind him like little chicks to the back of the department. Before we reached the sheriff’s door, it flew open and the somewhat jovial guy I had met weeks ago was replaced by a brittle, angry man. Wow! These two had serious family issues.
“You’re late,” Sheriff Tucker declared.
“We’re right on time, sir,” Captain Reardon replied. The growled emphasis on the word “sir” made it obvious that he wasn’t feeling the respect the word implied.
“If you’re not fifteen minutes early then you’re late. That was something my daughter knew before you came along,” the older man snarled. I figured his daughter’s supposed tardiness might have more to do with being a busy working mom, but I wasn’t going to open my mouth.
“We’re here to talk about what you know, if anything, about Nate Turner’s homicide and how it might relate to the threats being made against Josh Roman,” Captain said. I liked his no-nonsense attitude because I wasn’t in the mood for their pissing contest.
I heard a loud ruckus and shouting in the main room and opened the door to look out. I was a cop; it was automatic to look into situations involving angry voices. I saw Billy Sampson dressed in street clothes heading to the front door with a cardboard box in his arms.
“Fuck you all,” he yelled as he left the station.
“What’s that all about with Deputy Sampson?” I asked the sheriff, careful to keep the disdain from my voice.
“Former deputy,” he corrected. “He’d been acting erratic lately, missing work, and being belligerent. I suspected drug usage, but I didn’t know for sure until his random drug test came back positive.” I nearly snorted out loud. Random drug test, my ass.
“What kind of drugs?” I asked.
“He tested positive for quite a few of them,” the sheriff said. “We offered to put him on leave until he completed a rehab program, but he refused. He denied he’d had the drugs in his system and said we were trying to railroad him out of the department, but couldn’t say why we would want to do that.” He shook his head. “It’s really sad.”
“Sir,” I said kindly, “we have an evidence locker full of drugs that were found in the school system where his mother works. I think that’s a tad too coincidental. Perhaps we’ll find that these drugs came from the same batches if we test our drugs against the ones in his system.”
Sheriff Tucker thought about it for a long time before he said, “Okay, we can do that.”
