She introduced them to Agent Hodges, then went through events chronologically. It took her a good fifteen minutes. “Do you have anything to add, Agent Hodges?”
He didn’t, though he wanted to. The problem was that Katie had been thorough, and thankfully, Agent Hodges had the grace to say, “No, you’ve covered things quite nicely, Sheriff.”
“Okay, now here’s what we’re going to do. I found out that Hester Granby is the church secretary at the Sinful Children of God. I want Wade to get the names of the members from her. He’ll split them up and each of you will go interview as many church members as you can today. If you find out anything at all interesting about church operations or either of the McCamys, leave me a message on my voice mail. Don’t forget now, we have to be nice. Remember that we have no evidence to connect the McCamys to the kidnapping, it’s just that they’re our only lead. You already know some of their people, but the majority aren’t local. That should give you a head start at least.”
Deputy Cole Osborne said, “Sheriff, how will we know if we find out anything significant?”
“You’re smart enough. Listen carefully, anything you hear that might sound the least bit off, that’s what I want to know about.”
After she’d dismissed them all, and said fond good-byes to Agent Hodges, she pulled Deputy Danny Peevley aside. He was the best-liked of all her deputies, just about magic with people. His mama would say that he could get an onion to peel off its own skin. “I have someone real special I want you to speak to, Danny. His name is Homer Bean and he lives in Elizabethton. He owns the Union 76 gas station. I saw Bea Hipple yesterday at the church and she called me, gave me Homer Bean’s name. She said she liked Homer, and he’d been unhappy with Reverend McCamy. That’s all she knew. Mr. Bean left the church about six months ago. Find out why, Danny. Find out what he thinks of Reverend McCamy.”
Once Katie’s door closed, she sat down at her desk actually happy to have a chance to look at the three active cases Linnie had left for her to review. Three cases very nearly constituted a crime spree for Jessborough. One DUI—Timmy Engels was at this moment still sleeping off his drunk in the only cell that had a soft cushion. One assault case—Marvin Dickerson was in back in a cell for beating on his wife, Ellie. Katie would keep him locked up until Judge Denver saw him at an arraignment on Wednesday. And she would speak to his wife again, beg her to press charges. But she wouldn’t, she never did, so the best Katie could do was keep the bastard locked up as long as she could. And one last case: shoplifting—Ben Chivers, a kid whose parents were so poor, it broke Katie’s heart. And the fact that they were usually passed out at night after drinking themselves blind didn’t help matters. I made you give back that Snickers bar you stole, Ben; now what am I going to do with you? She closed her eyes and mulled that one over.
Then it came to her and she smiled. It was worth a shot. She picked up the phone, spoke to Mrs. Cerlew, who owned Emmy’s One-Stop Grocery, named after her suffragette grandmother. That was where Ben had ineptly lifted the Snickers bar. When she hung up, she grabbed her hat, and stopped by Linnie’s desk. “I’m off to see Ben Chivers. I know he’s in school, and I’m going to get him out of class. It’ll make his reputation if the sheriff comes to see him, don’t you think?”
“He’ll strut,” Linnie said, then shook her head. “That’s a bad situation, Katie. Those folks of his, all they do is lie around drunk and bitch.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Katie said, gave Linnie a small salute, and drove her truck to the local middle school.
Savich looked up to see Sherlock tuck her cell phone back in her shirt pocket. They were in their bedroom at Mother’s Very Best. He was still sitting forward, trying to ignore the constant throb in his back, working on MAX.
“What did the medical examiner have to say?”
“Clancy,” Sherlock said as she bounced up and down on the bed a couple of times, “was stronger than a bull, ate like a pig, and had arteries clogged all the way to his ears. Katie’s bullet killed him. Nothing more, nothing less.” She eased off the bed, smoothed down the covers and walked to her husband. She leaned down and kissed his mouth. She felt the immediate hitch in his breath, and stood again. “About all we can do is play with my hair rollers,” she said, a wealth of disappointment in her voice.
“Where are they?”
Sherlock laughed. “You’ve been working on MAX all afternoon. What have you got?” She affectionately patted the laptop as she spoke. At least Dillon didn’t have to worry about the math teacher killer case since Jimmy Maitland had told him to chill out until he was better.