“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam finally responded as he turned around. “I was here all evening.”
“I can vouch for that,” someone said at the other end of the bar. Several others piped up in defense of Sam, but that wasn’t much of a surprise. “I was here when we got the call.”
Hadley didn’t need to inquire about which call the man was referencing, but that didn’t mean Sam hadn’t attempted to reach Reed before anyone else had been alerted to his absence by Nora.
“Sam? I just need to check off some boxes,” Hadley said quietly before tacking on what they all wanted…needed…to hear. She made sure to raise her voice, too. “Do you really want a detective who doesn’t know the area investigating this? Who could care less about the locals? If that would make all of youhappy, just say the word. I’ll walk out that door and never come back.”
When Warren Caldwell stood from the booth, he was basically shamed into sitting back down. While Warren believed he’d done the right thing by having the state send someone in to calm the media, most of the residents obviously didn’t agree with his decisions.
“I’m the devil you know, right?” Hadley replied wryly as she pushed aside the cold mug. No one here needed to know that she didn’t drink alcohol. If asked, she would simply inform them that she had a long drive home. “Shall we just leave it at that then? Let me do my job, and Sheriff Turner can take over from there until the mayor chooses afitreplacement for the position of police chief.”
Hadley had made sure to emphasize the proper word, making it known that she didn’t approve of Elijah Garber. His age had nothing to do with her low opinion of him, either.
“Like I said, Hadley, I didn’t call Reed.” Sam reached under the counter and retrieved his phone. He took time to scroll through his calls, his frown signaling something wasn’t right. “I swear, I didn’t make these calls. I must have had my phone in my back pocket. Look. Three consecutive times.”
Sam slid his phone across the bar top. Hadley glanced at the cracked screen, confirming her discovery earlier today. Three outgoing calls to Reed's number had been initiated from Sam’s phone, though none had connected. The timestamps aligned perfectly with her records, too. But the calls themselves weren't what interested her. It had been Sam’s reaction to her inquiry.
“Box checked,” Hadley replied with a small smile. “I should be going. It’s getting late.”
“Will you be at the funeral on Saturday?” Sam asked as if the past ten minutes hadn’t taken place. Those calls hadn’t beenmisdials, but she couldn’t prove it. “Everyone has agreed to close down their shops and establishments for the afternoon.”
“I’ll be there, Sam.”
When Sam’s attention was diverted to the other end of the bar for a fresh round of drinks, she took that as a sign their conversation was over. She didn’t like that her attention now had to be diverted to whatever it was Sam was hiding, and she just might hand off that lead to Nick. There were only so many hours in the day, and she was only sleeping for four of them.
Reed's autopsy had revealed a single gunshot wound to the chest. Death was likely instantaneous, which meant that his body had been moved and then placed behind the wheel of his truck. He had been burned post-mortem in what was most likely an attempt to destroy evidence.
As Hadley slid off the stool, movement from the back of the bar caught her attention. Lucas Solomon leaned over the pool table, lining up a shot with careful precision as if he’d been playing for years. Kalen Telfort nursed a beer at a nearby high-top, while Brock Luepke stood on the opposite side of the table, chalk cube in hand, tracking the cue ball's trajectory across the green felt.
Hadley had already made everyone uneasy by questioning Sam, though she hadn’t expected their support in the face of their mayor. She might as well finish the evening off by checking another box on her list.
As she approached the trio, Lucas straightened from his shot in wariness. Kalen turned, his posture stiffening slightly. And Brock continued chalking his cue tip with deliberate focus, as if her presence was nothing more than a nuisance.
“Mind if I interrupt your game for a minute?” Hadley asked as she came to a stop at the edge of the table. Before she made her request to speak with Brock in private, she inquired aboutsomething else entirely. “Seems you’re missing your fourth. Where is Ty this evening?”
The three exchanged glances, as if unsure who should answer her question. It was Lucas who shrugged first, as if to say their friend’s absence wasn’t a big deal.
“Ty’s been busy lately at the farm. I haven’t seen him since last week.”
“I actually saw him yesterday,” Kalen offered up after raising his hand to garner her attention. “He stopped by with a casserole. His aunt has been a big help with home-cooked meals since Dad died.”
Apparently, seeing as the other two had already answered, Brock didn’t seem inclined to add to their responses. The small lull gave her ample opportunity to make her request.
“Gentlemen, I’d like to speak with Mr. Luepke in private,” Hadley requested. Neither Lucas nor Kalen moved from their spots. They both stared at Brock, waiting for his reaction. “I’d like to do this here, but I don’t mind taking this to the station, either.”
“We’ll just go and get ourselves another round of drinks,” Lucas said before leaning his pool stick against the table. “Kalen?”
“Yeah,” Kalen muttered as he stood from the stool. “Right behind you.”
The two young men walked over to the bar, leaving Hadley alone with Brock. He monitored their retreat with barely concealed resentment, as if they'd abandoned him.
“I don’t know anything about Chief Langley’s murder.”
"Then tell me what you know about Missy Claymont.”
Hadley’s direct request had the desired effect, and Brock dropped the small blue piece of chalk. It landed on the pool table, but he didn’t even seem to notice.
“Look, I don’t know what Lucas has been?—”
