Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

K evin scrolled through the digitized case files on his computer, the click of the mouse echoing in the quiet squad room. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Jo staring blankly at her monitor, tapping a pencil in a rhythmic beat. Wyatt’s rapid keystrokes filled the background as he typed away on some task. Harry sat at one of the empty desks, a look of concentration on his face as he flipped through the paperwork on the old robbery that Reese had given him.

Kevin was grateful no one was paying attention to what he was researching. With the vintage suitcase of cash found in Alex Sheridan’s apartment, he now had a valid reason to access the cold case records to find out more about the decades-old unsolved bank robbery case that was likely the source of the money. But Kevin had an ulterior motive: a chance to follow up on the old narcotics case that had held the password that unlocked the thumb drive found among his belongings when he had been hospitalized last year.

The thumb drive had contained information that led them to a serial killer’s burial ground. Kevin still couldn’t remember how he obtained the thumb drive or what had led him to think he would find the password in that old notebook that was part of the evidence in the narcotics case. But he had, and he’d taken the information from that case without authorization. If anyone found out, it could cost him his reinstated position with the White Rock Police Department.

But now that he was the only one that knew there could be a connection, the duty to figure out why lay heavy on his shoulders. If only he could find a way to do it and not let anyone know about his indiscretion.

So far, he had kept his fragmented memory hidden, but he had noticed Jo eyeing him strangely when he occasionally referenced the small notebook he now kept in his pocket to remind him of details he should know. He had to keep up the charade, at least until he figured out what had really happened during those gaps in his recollection.

Kevin continued scrolling through the digitized narcotics case files, skimming for any details that might trigger his spotty memory. Most of it was familiar territory—records of arrests, evidence logs, investigative notes.

There were a few references to Thorne Industries, but Kevin already knew about the company’s connection to the case, didn’t he? He did remember that they had been cleared of any wrongdoing, though.

Harry sneezed, jolting Kevin’s attention from the computer.

“Darn cat.” Harry pulled a hanky out of his pocket and blew into it.

Kevin’s gaze met Jo’s, and she shook her head and rolled her eyes. Kevin smiled and discreetly closed the file on his computer. Accessing that right in the station might not be so smart. It was close quarters.

He opened the file for the old robbery case. Based on the vintage suitcase full of cash they had found hidden under Alex Sheridan’s floorboards, it seemed likely the money was from that old heist. But how had Alex gotten connected to it?

As Kevin skimmed through the bank robbery file, something caught his eye. Someone walking their dog had found a duffle bag of money in the woods. It turned out that money had come from the bank. According to the file, the bag appeared to have fallen from a great height. Like maybe out of the helicopter.

The case reminded Kevin about D. B. Cooper, the man who hijacked an airplane and jumped out with a bag of cash. There was no hijacking here, though. So where had the robbers gotten a helicopter? How had the bag fallen out? Was it the only thing that fell out?

The report included pictures of the find and the area around the bag. There was no evidence of a person, no clothing or blood or anything. Just the bag.

The coordinates of where the bag had been found were familiar. Why? Kevin consulted his notebook and sucked in a breath. They were very near the coordinates the thumb drive had pointed to. Right next to the Webster property, where the FBI were right now digging up graves. What a strange coincidence.

Harry slapped the file folder down on the desk. “If I had been lead on this case, we would’ve found those crooks.”

Jo raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What would you have done differently?”

“For starters, I wouldn’t have just sat around, waiting for clues to fall in my lap.” Harry jabbed a finger at the paperwork. “It’s almost like Hartman wanted them to get away with it.”

Kevin leaned forward, intrigued. “What makes you say that?”

Harry waved a hand dismissively. “Ah, Hartman was an arrogant SOB. Thought he knew everything. But he barely followed up on any solid leads. Like that bag of money they found in the woods.”

“I was just looking at that part of the file,” Kevin said. “Were you in on the search?”

Harry nodded. “We searched only for one day. Never found anything else. No tracks, no clothing, no other money bags. Just the one busted-open bag.”

Jo furrowed her brow. “That is strange. Why only one bag?”

“Exactly!” Harry exclaimed. “The whole thing seemed off to me. But Hartman dismissed it, said we’d found all there was to find.”

Kevin pulled out his notebook, scanning his scribbles. “It looks like the bag was found near the Webster property.”

Harry thought for a moment. “You know, I think it might be pretty close. That land doesn’t belong to the Websters, though. It’s owned by some company...” He snapped his fingers, trying to conjure the name. “Obsidian something. We tried to get info on them but hit a dead end. Probably some shell corporation.”

Sam came out of his office, phone in hand. “That was John Dudley from the ME’s office. He finished the autopsy on Alex Sheridan.”

Wyatt swiveled his chair around. “And? What’s the official cause of death?”

“Drowning,” Sam replied. “They found water in his lungs. Looks like he went into the lake alive.”

“So it was just an accident?” Wyatt asked. “He wandered onto the ice and fell through?”

Sam shook his head. “Not likely. The tox screen showed alcohol and drugs in his system.”

“Alex was an experienced hiker. He wouldn’t mix drinking and drugs before going out on the ice,” Jo said.

“Not to mention the lack of hiking shoes,” Kevin said.

“Right,” Sam agreed. “It points to this not being an accidental drowning.”

Kevin leaned back in his chair. “Someone could have forced the alcohol and drugs on him to knock him out. Then dumped him in the lake to drown.”

“That’d be a pretty cold way to kill someone,” Wyatt said with a frown.

Jo nodded. “Especially in the dead of winter. The frigid water would finish the job quickly.”

“We’ll need to dig more into Alex’s background,” Sam said. “Figure out who might have wanted to get rid of him. The money is an obvious motive.”

“But it might not be the only motive,” Harry said. “That money’s been hidden for fifty years, and no one’s been killed over it. Maybe Alex’s death is about something else.”

Jo crossed her arms. “You know, Alex was managing Marnie Wilson’s campaign. Could be someone from that world who wanted him gone.”

“Political types can certainly play dirty,” Kevin agreed. “We should take a closer look at Wilson and her crew.”

“Did anyone else come up with anything on Alex?” Sam asked, glancing around at the team.

“I checked out his social media,” Jo said, tapping her pen on her notepad. “Doesn’t show much personally. He belonged to a hiking group on Facebook, but there’s no animosity there, at least not about him being executor of Frank’s will.” She flipped a page. “Oh, and it seems he was pretty into politics, especially his grandfather’s support of Marnie Wilson. That could be why he left his IT job to work on her campaign.”

Sam nodded and turned to Wyatt. “Did you find anything on his computer?”

Wyatt leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. “Well, Alex was a big gamer, part of some online groups. Bit of a loner in real life, it seems, but he had some pretty high-tech equipment and apps.” Wyatt, a big gamer himself, sounded a little envious.

“Anything on his schedule leading up to his death?” Sam asked.

Wyatt shook his head. “Nope, calendar’s empty the past few days. No appointments or plans logged. I also did a check in the parking lot of his apartment and the campaign headquarters, and his car isn’t in either place.”

“Guess it must be at the murder scene. We need to find it.” Sam turned to Kevin. “Kev?”

Kevin felt a tingle of nervousness, worried Sam would somehow know he had been looking at the old narcotics case file. But he straightened in his chair and flipped open his notebook, pretending to consult his notes. “The money they found in the woods seems odd. It was on a property abutting the Webster farm.”

Sam and Jo exchanged a glance. Hazel Webster was the serial killer they’d arrested not that long ago, and her land was where she’d buried many bodies. In fact, the FBI was up there digging right now.

“I don’t think we should read too much into that. The Webster property is out in the middle of nowhere, and that area is heavily wooded, so it makes sense the getaway helicopter would fly over it,” Sam said.

“We searched back in the day. Never found a thing beyond that one busted money bag.” Harry glanced down at the paperwork. “Though looking at this now, I can see we would have caught the guys if I’d been in charge back then.”

“I bet you would have.” Sam clapped Harry on the back then turned to the rest of them. “We need to figure out what Alex did on his last day. Let’s start at the place he would normally be on a workday. Marnie Wilson’s campaign headquarters.”