The sound of liquid being poured into a mug came over the line. “I’ll email you an off icial report by the end of the day.” He cleared his throat. “I know you’re swamped, but have you found out anything about Tommy Bearing? My niece is just head over heels.”
Laurel winced. “High school gossip is that he was climbing out of a girl’s bedroom, where he’d been invited, and the dad caught him. Tommy assaulted the dad. I haven’t been able to get my hands on a juvenile report, but just between us, he’s a person of interest in this homicide investigation.”
“Are you kidding me?” Ortega snapped.
“No. I don’t have anything concrete on the young man. His family has connections to each of the victims, but that’s it. I initially put him on the list because of what you’d said about voyeurism, and so far, that hasn’t panned out. I don’t have enough on Tommy to obtain a warrant for anything. Even so, I want you fully informed.”
Without the voyeurism, she might not even be looking at Tommy. Plus, he and Davie alibied each other for the kidnapping of Christine Franklin. One of them could be lying or they could be working together, although that would alter the profile.
“None of this makes me happy.”
“I understand. However, high school gossip says that Tommy has already moved on to another girl. If it’s true, you might have a broken heart to deal with but no worries of Tommy being around,” Laurel said quietly.
“Okay. Thanks. I’ll be in touch. Bye.”
Laurel made a quick call to the hospital to find that Walter was now listed in serious condition. That was good. She breathed out and then began covering the murder boards with the pull-down screens Kate had had mounted to the wall above them. She had just finished when Officer Zello escorted Davie into the room.
“Here he is,” Zello said, his handlebar mustache twitching. “Wanted to stop for breakfast but I told him that wasn’t a good idea.”
Davie rolled his eyes.
Laurel smiled and gestured to a chair across from her. “Have a seat, Davie. Your mom was going to request Jason or Haylee to be here for your interview, so we’ll wait for them.”
Officer Zello nodded. “They were behind us, but I think they stopped for coffee downstairs.” He shrugged, looking tall and lean in his uniform. “I must not have expressed urgency.”
“That’s all right.” Laurel pulled out a chair and sat across from Davie, whose dark hair looked ruffled. His T-shirt was a worn green, his jeans faded, and his boots covered in snow. “Officer Zello? I appreciate your help with this.” The guy would make a better sheriff than the actual sheriff. “Have you ever thought of working for the FBI?”
He nodded. “I have.”
“Keep me in the loop, because I’m happy to write you a recommendation,” she said.
He smiled, making his eyes twinkle. “Thanks. I’ll be in touch.” He turned, shoulders back, and walked down the hallway.
Davie rolled his eyes again. “Puke.”
Movement sounded and Jason and Haylee crossed in front of the interior windows of the conference room and walked inside, both holding two coffee cups. Jason handed one to Davie and took the seat next to him, while Haylee handed a cup to Laurel and then sat at the end of the table.
Haylee smiled. “The coffee lady downstairs said this is what you like.”
Laurel accepted the coffee. “That was kind of you. Thanks.”
Jason leaned forward. “Mrs. Tate asked us to sit in, but I need to ask you if Davie should have a lawyer before I go plow. I can’t stay long.” The architect wore a black down vest over dark jeans, and his beard had been trimmed neatly against his handsome face.
Laurel shook her head. “That’s up to Davie, of course, but he’s not obligated to be here and can leave any time.” She looked at the boy, who was now gulping down his drink. “I just need some help here, Davie. I think you have some answers that may help me find this killer.”
Davie wiped off his mouth. “Okay.”
Jason cleared his throat.
Davie hunched his shoulders. “I first want to apologize for swearing at you the other night. I was high.”
Jason groaned.
“That’s all right,” Laurel said. “Make it up to me now. Tell me how you found out that Sharon Lamber grew cannabis.”
He shrugged. “She hired Tommy and me to move some stuff around for her at the greenhouse, and we saw the plants. It wasn’t like she was hiding them or anything.” He scratched at a pimple on his neck. “She didn’t care if we took some—it was no big deal.” He looked at Haylee. “That’s all I know.”
Haylee patted his arm. “I believe you.”
