“Evening, George,” Russ called out. “Nice night.”
Ah, yes, small-town policing, Ryleigh had never really understood what it involved until now. They were here to search the home of a potential bomber, and Russ was making small talk with the neighbor. He had to. As sheriff for a small county, Russ had personal relationships with many of the county residents. The FBI never had this dichotomy to deal with. If they had a warrant to serve and the occupant wasn’t home, they would simply bust down the door and enter.
Lucy marched across the lawn, her backless slippers snapping under her feet. “What’s he done?”
“I’m not at liberty to share anything at this time,” Russ said. “But it could be nothing.”
She raised a painted-on eyebrow. “He finally go off half-cocked on one of his conspiracy theories and hurt someone?”
“Conspiracy theories?” Russ asked.
“Seems like every week it’s something new. Last time we talked he said he thought the war in Ukraine was fake. That Democrats were using it to make them seem like heroes as they saved us from Russia.” She rolled her eyes.
“Do you know where Barney went camping?” Ryleigh asked to change the subject.
“He said, but I don’t remember.” Lucy faced her porch. “George, you know where Barney went camping?”
“You’re the one who gets all the neighborhood gossip details, so I didn’t bother to ask.” His booming laugh traveled on the breeze.
“Thanks for the key.” Russ smiled at Lucy. “But you best go on home now, just in case we encounter any danger.”
“From Barney? Hah! I’ve always compared him to the big purple dinosaur who shares the same name. No danger there.” She walked off laughing.
Russ inserted the key in the lock.
“She could be right,” Ryleigh said. “Our evidence is sketchy at best at this point.”
“Then let’s find something that isn’t sketchy.” Russ pushed open the door and announced himself.
No reply, just as expected.
Hand on the butt of his weapon, Russ stepped inside. Ryleigh followed him into an entryway boasting a flowery floor tile in orange and yellow sixties colors. That led to a step-down family room with a brick fireplace and older furnishings.
“Police,” Russ yelled again. “If you’re here, Barney, come out.”
Russ waited a moment and then headed down a hallway toward the bedrooms. Stained carpet emitted a musty odor with each step. Ryleigh refrained from holding her nose as she followed.
Vick had set up the first room as an office. A newer-model computer sat on a vintage wooden desk painted an olive green. One wall covered with brown wood paneling held photos and internet articles about various conspiracies with red yarn lines anchored to colored pushpins and connecting items together.
She stepped to the board and paused by a top article written in Canada about a link to loggers and prostate cancer. She put on gloves and tapped it. “Check this out.”
Russ came to stand beside her and study the page. “Loggers have a higher incidence of prostate cancer.”
“Never expected to see that,” she said. “They think the vibrations from chain saws may be the cause or emissions from the engines.”
“See this?” He tapped the last part of the title that said loggers andcopswere among higher-risk occupations for prostate cancer. Twice as likely to get it. “They see it in truck and bus drivers too. Not liking my job at this moment.”
“That’s an interesting side fact.” She looked at him.
“Vick might have some justification for blaming the job.”
“But blaming Tobias is pretty far-fetched. Vick’s dad chose to be a logger. Tobias didn’t force him to do the job.” She tapped the date noted at the top of the paper. “This article was recently printed. Vick might’ve just located this info, and it could be what set him off after all these years.”
“Makes sense.” Russ pursed his lips and stared ahead. “We need more information.”
She turned to the desk and sifted through papers on the corner. Her mouth dropped open. “No way. Look at this. Bomb schematics using a photoelectric cell. Right out in plain sight. He must not have thought we’d ever connect the bomb to him.”
“Guess we have the evidence we came for.” Russ frowned when she expected him to smile. “I knew about his conspiracy theory garbage but never thought the guy was more than odd. At least not odd enough to blow something up.”
