Free Indivisible by Kristen Heitzmann Page A

illuminated the shelf he’d seen through the damaged siding, a dim rectangle of light already showing what he did not want to see. The shelf was empty.
    Byne’s surprise appearance should have told him someone else was in the game. They might have been in the house when Jonah arrived the first time, or in close enough proximity to see the arrest go down. With the deputy out front, they could have gone out the back to the shed.
    “That’s where it was?” Sue’s light ran over the empty shelf, drag markings in the dust but nothing else.
    “Check it for residue.”
    He scanned the rest of the shed. He’d half expected to find a lab, but whoever had taken the inventory would not have had time to disassemble the equipment and ingredients and rearrange the clutter. “I’ll start in the house.” The sooner he left the shed, the better. If he saw a three-legged stool and a shotgun, he’d show Sue a side of himself he hid like leprosy.
    The house appeared tossed, but the piles of clothes and trash, empty bottles, and food containers heaped in corners could be how Tom lived. A ratty taxidermied boar stood beside the television. Classy.
    Jonah moved systematically through the disaster, searching the sofa and stuffed chairs for torn or loose bottom liners, mattress and box spring for slits. He searched the piles of clothes and the few in closets and drawers, checked in boxes and the file cabinet. He eyed the carpet for untacked edges and found a slack corner in the bedroom closet.
    Tugging it up revealed a loose board under which a wad of cash had been secreted. By itself, that meant nothing, but he bagged it in hopes of more incriminating evidence—like the .40 caliber handgun shoved deeper into the gap. He removed the magazine, ejected the round in the chamber, and bagged it.
    The smaller of the two fire trucks arrived as he moved to the kitchen. He looked out the window and saw Sue and Ray explaining the situation—Sue, how they’d found him unconscious, and Ray, how it was only a bump. Jonah checked the cabinet and refrigerator contents and found another wad of bills in a bag of frozen peas.
    Either Caldwell distrusted banks or had need of ready cash. He found ammunition for the handgun in the flatware drawer beside the steak knives, along with a second handgun, same caliber. He checked and found it loaded like the first.
    Sue joined him with a bagged cell phone and charger. “He kept this in the shed. Want me to run down the numbers in his log?”
    He reached for the bag. “I’ll do that. Anything else?”
    “A Bunsen burner and bottle caps.”
    “So he’s using.”
    “Or it’s for clients to test the wares.”
    Jonah nodded. “Good thought. You’re pretty sharp.”
    “Yeah.” She polished her nails on her uniform. “Other than that, they cleaned up pretty well.”
    “Looks that way. I’m almost done in here. Let’s flip for the bathroom.”
    She sent him a look. “You probably have a two-headed coin.”
    “In which case you only have to call heads.”
    She swallowed. “I’ll do it.”
    Gutsy. “Actually”—he tossed her the set of keys from the counter—“you take the truck. I’ll tackle the john.”
    “Sure?”
    “Find me grounds to impound.”
    “If it’s there, I’ll find it.”
    He watched her go, then looked at the cell phone. He wondered for a moment if she might have already deleted a certain number. If not, the temptation could have struck when she logged the calls. Except for the potential incrimination of her husband, Sam, he’d have let her handle that task. He put the phone with the other items and hoped it would prove a nonissue.
    Without the drugs, none of what they had would be incriminating. Whoever mopped up here knew what they were doing. It occurred to him that could be Sam. Who better than a law officer’s spouse to know how to thwart a bust?
    When they had gotten back to the station, he said, “You know Sam could get swept up in this.”
    Sue stared straight