Free Days of Reckoning by Chris Stout Page B

tear-streaked face in a tangled mass. “Wife. Who the fuck called her?” He looked at Gutierrez.
    “Shit. Sam, Henry’s divorced. I have no clue who that is.”
    “Girlfriend maybe. Doesn’t matter. I’ll handle her. You go get Miranda.”
    #
    Miranda already knew what the scene would look like before she arrived, but she had to give the impression of being there for the first time. She wondered how well she’d pull of the charade but didn’t have a chance to worry further when she saw the car that pulled in behind her. One look at the woman’s face was all she needed.
    “Shit. Wife.”
    She ignored Hector’s wave of greeting and hurried over to intercept the distraught woman before she could cause any harm.
    “Where happened to Henry?” the woman called out. “Where is he?”
    Miranda moved in front of her. “Ma’am? You have to come with me. I’ll take you to see him, but first you have to come with me.”
    The woman stopped abruptly. Her face registered confusion. “I don’t want to see him. Not if he’s dead. I just want to know what happened.”
    “Oh.” Miranda held out her hand. “Come with me. Please.”
    The woman took it. “Do you know who did this?”
    “I’m sure my partners have some good ideas. What’s your name, ma’am?”
    “Gracie. Gracie Beaumont. Henry and I have been split up for about four years now. But it doesn’t mean he was a bad man. Why would anyone want to kill him?”
    “Gracie. My name’s Miranda. And I don’t know why anyone would want to kill Henry.” She looked around her shoulder. Sam and Hector stood still, watching her lead the widow obliquely away from the gun store. More importantly, they were out of earshot. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “But I think whoever killed your husband killed my brother too.”
    Gracie stopped in midstride. The confusion and grief on her face melted away and were replaced by a mix of shock and sympathy. “Who would do such a thing?”
    Miranda shook her head. “I can’t tell you right now. But I promise you, I’m working on finding them. And when I do, you’ll know it.”
    The coroner’s wagon pulled up to the store. Gracie shuddered. “Oh God. I can’t believe this is happening.”
    “I can’t either. And I won’t lie to you. It’s going to get worse before it gets better. But finding the animals who did this will help. And to do that, I’ll need to ask you some questions. Alone. Away from the other officers.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I can’t trust any of them.” Miranda stared directly at Sam and hoped that in his case at least, those last words wouldn’t prove to be true.
    #
    Back at the station, Sam sat leaning back in his chair with his feet propped on his desk. He was dozing, dreaming of Tracy. She was telling him what a fool he was. All his detective skills and he couldn’t figure out that she was lonely, or that she needed a man to be there with her. And he was surprised she wanted someone new?
    “Feel like going back to school?” Wainwright asked with a half-smile from the doorway.
    Sam jumped a bit, the legs of his chair hitting the floor with a jarring smack. “Sorry, Chief. Must have drifted off there.”
    “Drifted my ass! Hell, you were snoring. You should go home and get some sleep.”
    “Yeah, I think I’ll do that. Just want to get some of this paperwork out of the way.”
    “Forget about it. I’ll take care of it, even if that is against the rules. Tomorrow, I want you to head down to the school and check out this Damon Shearer kid." Wainwright held up a folder that contained time cards and check stubs written out to Beaumont's employee. "No one’s been able to find him. I think he may be able to shed some light on the whole mystery.”
    “That’s what I planned on doing. And I think he’ll wrap the whole mystery up.”
    “Probably so,” Wainwright agreed. “Between his connection to the shop and the fact he can’t be found anywhere, I’d say he’s our best suspect.