Dead Even by Annelise Ryan

Author:Annelise Ryan [Ryan, Annelise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2020-12-10T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 16

I squeeze my eyes closed and swallow hard, trying not to imagine what it was like for some sweet young barmaid to get her pinky finger cut off for reasons over which she had no control.

“Have you been able to verify that?” Hurley asks.

“Not yet,” Junior says. “It seems our Ms. Maribel hasn’t been to work for the past three days. She called in sick every day.”

“Has anyone seen the finger?” Hurley asks.

“So far, it’s all talk,” Junior says. “But when I came up here to see Arnie and he told me about the wood splinter, I figured I’d hang and let you know what I’ve dug up so far.”

“Glad you did,” Hurley says. “Thanks to you both.”

Hurley disconnects the call and looks at me with a smile on his face. “I’m thinking Sawyer Dixon has killed not one, but two people. He made a half-assed attempt to lay the blame for his father’s death on Taylor Copeland, but it didn’t work. And the fact that she was killed first shows premeditation.” Hurley lets out a satisfied sigh. “I’m going to go out to the Sorenson Motel and arrest him. I feel certain we have enough at this point to make the DA happy—a clear motive, no alibi, and evidence linking him to the scene and the murder weapon for his father. Plus, he knew about the situation between his father and Taylor Copeland, so he could have easily set her up as the fall guy. Want to come along?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

Hurley puts in a call to get a uniformed officer to assist us and Al Whitman shows up. Al has been with the Sorenson Police Department going on thirteen years now and has shown no interest in advancing his career. He seems quite content to work as a patrol officer forever. He and his wife have five kids, and I sometimes think he just doesn’t have the time or leftover brain power for career advancement requirements after dealing with his kids. He’s a mellow guy with a good reputation among the teens in town, and that is something of a rarity. For that reason alone, I think a lot of people are happy to have him as a patrol officer for eternity.

After filling Al in on what we are about to do, Hurley and I head for the Sorenson Motel in his pickup, with Al following behind us in a patrol car. Hurley pulls up to the main office and the two of us head inside to ask Joseph Wagner, the curmudgeonly owner of the motel, which room Sawyer is staying in.

Joseph is sitting behind his desk, dressed in his ubiquitous denim bib overalls and a plain and very thin white T-shirt. I’ve never seen Joseph dressed in anything else. His wiry gray hair, a clownish fringe that circles from ear to ear beneath his otherwise bald head, is in desperate need of a trim. There are bags beneath his eyes large enough to pack all of Marie Featherstone’s groceries in, and an unlit, half-chewed cigar hangs out one side of his mouth.

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