May's first job was to speak to the officer in the lobby because Molly’s safety was at the top of her mind at the moment.
"There’s a chance that Sheriff Jack’s daughter, Molly Blair herself, may be the common factor in these crimes, and that there's a revenge motive," she said to the officer in a low voice. His eyebrows rose.
"What can we do? Get someone out to guard her?" he asked.
"Yes, please. That's exactly what I wanted to ask you. If there's an officer who could go on duty there, and stay as close as possible to her, it would at least take away that risk."
"I’ll request an officer straight away. Anything for Sheriff Jack,” the officer said respectfully. “What about the sheriff? Is he in danger?"
May shook her head. “I hope not, because Jack will refuse a police guard for himself.” Owen felt surprised by that, but then realized that was Jack’s character.
The officer thought about that. “Yes, he would probably refuse one. A couple of years ago, I remember there was also a dangerous situation where we suggested he take a guard, and he said no, that he couldn’t take a policeman away from his duties just for him. For family, friends, and other civilians yes, but not for him personally.”
"He’s in meetings this afternoon in the town center. By the time he’s finished, maybe we’ll know more,” May said.
They sped through to the back office, heading straight for the spare desk where they'd been able to work before. Opening the computer, Owen quickly logged into the databases.
"Jeremiah Danver still lives in Southbrook, but he is all the way over on the east of it. I see he's out on a homestead," Owen said.
"Where's Lucas Zane?" May asked. He could hear the puzzlement in her voice. And there was a reason for it. Lucas Zane didn't seem to be on any of the recent records. He'd rented a place a few years ago but had moved out of it.
"Here he is," May said with relief. "He seems to have moved into his parents' old home, and that's not actually in Southbrook. It's a town further on, so that's about a twenty-minute drive."
Owen saw her grab her phone as it started ringing. Grimacing as she took the call, he heard her say, "Afternoon, Jack."
Owen's stomach twisted. If this was Jack calling for a progress report, the timing couldn't be worse. He so wanted to try and save the day, to help her, to try and shoulder some of the burden of responsibility.
But unfortunately, as the county deputy, when Sheriff Jack called, May had to answer, and step up to the plate.
And then, it was as if his frantic thoughts somehow willed the right outcome. He heard Jack start to speak and then another phone began ringing in the background. Saved by the bell, he thought in relief, as May quickly cut the call.
"Well, I guess we have a few more minutes before breaking the bad news," she said to him, looking stressed. "He was getting called into another meeting in the town hall. I hope he’ll be safe there, and by the time he’s done, maybe we’ll have answers."
"I think we should split up and go and speak to these men individually," Owen said. "They're in opposite directions. It'll take half an hour just to get to each one. I can sign out a cruiser and go straight from here."
May frowned, and he knew she was weighing up the wisdom of having them separate. It was riskier, but right now, time wasn't on their side.
"Yes, I guess we'll have to," she said.
"I'll go to Jeremiah Danver," Owen said. Jeremiah Danver, to him, sounded like the more dangerous of the two. The riskier prospect. That, at least, he could shoulder for now.
"Thanks." He knew that May knew why he was volunteering that way, and that she wouldn't say no.
"Let's get going," was all she said.
Owen checked the address details again, confirming Jeremiah Danver's address and making sure the route there was clear in his mind. Then, grabbing his laptop bag and making sure his gun was securely in its holster, he rushed to the lobby to book out a vehicle.
***
Twenty-five minutes later, driving as fast as he dared, he arrived at the dirt road which led up to Jeremiah Danver’s smallholding. Owen was feeling intent, full of resolve about what might play out here. If this was the killer, he knew what had to be done. And he knew that he mustn't hesitate to call for backup if things got dangerous.
The smallholding was fenced in old, weathered split pole fencing. It was a rundown looking place that had been strongly built but not well maintained. Tall, majestic pine trees surrounded it. Owen couldn't see any signs of life or occupancy. No lights were on on this cloudy afternoon. No smoke was coming from the chimney. The barn doors were closed.
He felt his stomach clench. He needed to track this guy down.
He did have a grudge against Molly. And Owen was sure that he had the right psychological makeup. Now, if he could just find him, get this man to open up and let a few things slip, they might have this case wrapped up by evening.
He climbed out of his car, breathing in the fresh, cool air and hearing the faraway noise of sheep. He walked up the gravel path, knocked on the door, and waited. There was no answer. He knocked louder and stepped back to the side just in case the guy was peering at him through the window.
