Free Tag Man by Archer Mayor

interesting?”
    Ron gratefully twisted the computer screen toward his guest. “The Tag Man struck again, and I decided to look more carefully at his latest victim. Willy steered me that way. Might have potential.”
    Joe leaned forward to see better. “Lloyd Jordan? Never heard of him.”
    “He’s a flatlander from Boston,” Ron informed him. “Rolling in dough and arrogant as hell. The minute I met him, I thought he was hiding something. He and his wife are recent arrivals, looking like quite the local fund-raisers and do-gooders—or at least she does; I doubt he gives a shit—but it turns out he may have been up to his neck in the mob in the old days.”
    “No kidding?”
    “Nothing he was ever caught at,” Ron continued. “But the chatter’s convinced he was dirty.”
    Joe’s expression had revived to something more reminiscent of the Joe Gunther Ron knew well.
    “The question to ask,” Joe suggested, “is how this has anything to do with the Tag Man’s visit. Or if it does.”
    “That’s what Willy was thinking,” Ron agreed. “What if the Tag Man isn’t as harmless as he looks?”
    Joe sounded like Tony Brandt. “Meaning he’s targeting these houses because their owners won’t report what he’s really stealing … That’s interesting.”
    Ron was heartened by the other man’s enthusiasm. “I’d like to hand this one off, to be honest. Could get complicated, if any of this is true, and I don’t have the time, the budget, or the manpower, especially now that the detective squad’s been reduced to just me and Tyler. This is the thinnest we’ve been since before your time.”
    Joe knew of his troubles—the board of selectmen had been cutting back on everyone’s funding like never before. Still, he chose to avoid that discussion and stick to the topic at hand. “Beware what you wish for, Ron,” he cautioned. “Think of what we just hypothesized: If the Tag Man has that kind of intelligence going for him, and you’re right about Jordan being mobbed up, we’ll be talking major crimes before you know it. And you haven’t even looked into the other victims, right?”
    “No,” Ron conceded. “Up to now, we just saw them as targets, not as people who had something to hide. This conversation’s introduced a whole new ball game.”
    Joe held up a cautionary finger. “Maybe, maybe not. Don’t forget that all we know for sure is that he leaves a Post-it at every scene. The rest is purely hypothetical.”
    “Speaking of which,” Ron added, “the chief thinks blackmail might be an angle, too.”
    Joe laughed. “That would add an extra layer.”
    “If true, though,” Ron ruminated, “I can’t say I’d mind seeing Jordan twist in the wind for a while. For all we know, the Tag Man could be doing us a favor.” He considered what Tony Brandt and he had discussed along similar lines. “Maybe he’s a masked avenger or something.”
    “You really don’t like Mr. Jordan, do you?”
    Ron thought back to his encounter not with Lloyd but his wife, whom he truly didn’t envy.
    “You’re right,” he agreed. “I don’t. I’d love to bring him down a few pegs. The man’s a jerk.”
    Joe stood up and moved to the door, checking his watch. “Ron,” he said on the threshold, Gail’s advice still echoing in his head. “I know this may be out of line, but if you need any help—off the books—don’t hesitate to ask. I’m officially on medical leave, or vacation, or whatever the hell, but I’m thinking it wouldn’t hurt to sink my teeth into something.”
    Ron rose and shook his hand. “You working for me? You think I’ll turn that down? You got a deal.”
    Joe patted his younger colleague’s shoulder. “You may be singing a different tune a week from now, when you find out what a crazy old bastard I’ve turned into.”
    Ron opened his mouth to soften the comment, but then decided to pay the man his due. After all, he thought, I have no idea what he’s going through—or