Free Sandrift: A Lin Hanna Mystery by Sharon Canipe Page B

knowledge,
opportunity, and she ran off and hid somewhere.   Everything we had pointed right at her.   I just regret we never found her, but I
guess that doesn’t matter now—we can close this case, finally,” Pete
Midgett placed the papers in his folder and sat back.   He picked up a large cinnamon roll and
took a bite.
    “I have one
more question,” Lin looked up from her note taking, “well, two really.   Did Liz Frazier have any family who
might have known about the jewelry? Why do you think Dorrie Johnson came back
here, back to the scene of this crime she had escaped from all these years?”
    “Liz’s mother
and sister were here and they still are.   Her sister claimed to have seen the jewelry once, but she didn’t know
what Liz was planning to do with it.   As far as Dorrie coming back goes, who knows—maybe she wanted to
‘test the waters’ see if folks were still talking about the case.   Maybe she hid the jewelry somewhere and
came back to get it.   We never found
it.   Maybe because it wasn’t in
circulation—wasn’t sold anywhere.   Maybe she thought it was safe now to cash in—I really cannot say.   There are a lotta ‘maybes’ here.”   The Sheriff shifted in his chair,
pushing to his feet as he grabbed another cinnamon roll to take with him.   He tucked his papers under one arm.
    “I’ve spent
enough time out of my office; I hope I’ve answered your questions and you can
now feel some peace about all of this, Ms. Hanna.   Mr. Smith, pleased to meet you too.   Hope you
enjoy your stay.”   He extended a
beefy hand and Neal rose to shake it.
    “Thanks Sheriff,
for taking the time to talk to us.   Mind if I ask you a question too?   Have you learned anything about what Dorrie was doing while she was
here? Where she went and so forth? I’m sure her family would be interested in
any information they could get,” Neal asked.   Lin tried not to show her surprise at
Neal’s speaking up.   He had remained
quiet throughout the conversation up to this point.
    “Sure, we’re
looking into it, but there really isn’t much to go on so far,” Midgett was
obviously ready to end the conversation.   “We’ll certainly contact the family if we come across anything of interest.   That’s our job,” he replied abruptly.
    “Well, thanks
again, Sheriff,” Neal placed his chair under the table.   He turned to Lin as he watched Pete
Midgett walk toward the door, his expression somber. “I can certainly see why
you’d have questions about his case against Dorrie Johnson,” he spoke in a low
voice so as not to be overheard, “ The investigation of this crime seems pretty
thin to me—at least he didn’t share much in the way of concrete evidence
with us.”
      By this time they had reached the boardwalk
area outside the shop and were heading toward the parking area.   Pete Midgett was nowhere in sight.
    “ I certainly
agree,” Lin responded, “and am I correct in thinking that you agree that Matt
and Sara Johnson need to know what Sheriff Midgett did have to say to us?”
    Neal paused
before opening the car door, “I’ll have to admit that I can’t object to your
sharing this.   They’ve lost their
daughter; they don’t need to live with the idea that she was a cold blooded
killer.”
    “But she could
be involved in this crime,” Lin insisted. “ We can’t really know what happened
more than ten years ago.”
    “That’s
certainly true enough,” Neal said, “but the case hasn’t
been proven and I doubt it could be, given what the sheriff shared.   Dorrie’s parents could, at least, take
comfort in that.”
    “ I told Matt Johnson
that I ‘d call today and I will, but first I want you to see something here,”
Lin changed the subject as she got into the car.

 
    ***
    As they pulled
into the parking lot at the Fort Raleigh National Historic Site, Lin turned to
Neal, “You’re going to love this place.   It marks the location of the first attempt by