CHAPTER 34
The next morning,Micah sat at his desk at work and stared at the computer screen in front of him without really seeing it.
The station was quiet this morning—just him and Deputy Knox, who was working through a stack of traffic citations. The coffeemaker gurgled in the corner, filling the air with the smell of burnt grounds and cheap filters.
He’d done some preliminary research this morning on the Harding family. Unfortunately, he hadn’t discovered anything that gave him any answers. Though the family was shady, they knew how to keep their noses clean.
Still, he didn’t trust them. His gut feeling wouldn’t hold up in a court of law, however. He needed evidence.
Micah’s phone sat on the desk beside his keyboard, the screen dark.
He remembered the text message from Naomi last night.
The idea of her walking into a jail without him there made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t want to examine too closely. He was glad she hadn’t argued when he insisted on escorting her places.
Because all he really wanted to do was to keep her and Grace safe.
He forced his attention back to the screen. Back to the background check he’d been running for the last twenty minutes.
Dale Harding. Though Dale wasn’t part of an official case, the man had acted suspiciously enough that Micah could justify looking into him.
Micah scrolled through the results slowly.
Dale had a record—nothing major, but enough to paint a picture. Disorderly conduct from eight years ago. A DUI six years back. Failure to appear on a traffic violation that had resulted in a bench warrant, later cleared when he finally showed up to court.
But there was more.
His employment history was spotty. A few months here, a few months there. Nothing stable. Nothing long-term.
He had no current employer listed.
Micah leaned back in his chair.
That meant the man had no job. No visible means of income. But Dale drove a newer truck, dressed in expensive clothes, and moved with the kind of ease that came from not worrying about where the next paycheck was coming from.
So wherewashis money coming from?
“Sheriff?”
Micah looked up.
Deputy Knox stood in the doorway, a file folder in his hand. “Ballistics came back.”
Micah straightened. “And?”
Knox crossed the room and set the folder on Micah’s desk. “Both casings were confirmed: .308 Winchester. Same weapon. The markings are clear enough for a match if we find the rifle.”
“But we don’t have the rifle . . .”
“Not yet.”
Micah frowned. “Without the weapon or a witness, we can’t tie the bullets to anyone specific. The boot prints I documented help, but they’re not enough on their own.”
Micah opened the folder and scanned the ballistics report. Everything Knox said was accurate. The casings were good evidence, but not conclusive without the gun that fired them.
“I guess we don’t have probable cause for a warrant?” Knox asked.
“Not yet. So we wait. And we watch.”
