I left Daisy in charge and Petunia behind this time. Refused to look at the pug and her desperate sadness I was abandoning her for the great outdoors. The walk to the sheriff's office gave me the time I needed to sort out what I was going to say. And he was going to listen, was he ever.
I should have known nothing was ever so easy, not for me. I had only just passed through the front door of the station, all indignation and self-righteousness, when I realized there was more going on than maybe I should have known about. Okay, definitely more. Because my dad stood in the main bullpen with Crew beside him, heads together, while Pamela Shard, the reporter who was also editor and manager of the local paper hovered in their threesome, listening carefully. I didn't get a chance to ask what was going on, not when the three then disappeared behind Crew's office door, firmly shut behind them.
I turned to Toby Miller, found her with her head down, resolutely not meeting my eyes, the deputies gone, and only she of my dad's loyalty club to badger with questions. I think she must have known I wasn't going away, because she finally looked up with a sigh and shook her head.
"I can't tell you anything, Fee," Toby said. "So just go home, please."
"I've known you since I was a little girl, Toby," I said, laying on the weight of betrayal and hurt as thick as I could. "And you're going to take that attitude with me, of all people?"
Her mouth worked, her small, lined hands clenching on her desk in front of her. The round logo of the Curtis County Sheriff's Department over her right breast moved up and down quickly, the fleece vest her uniform for as long as I could remember, all four seasons of the year.
"You know your father will be furious with me." She had to try that pleading look, those brown eyes reminding me of Petunia. "I can't, Fee."
"Just tell me what connection Dad had to Pete Wilkins," I said. Wheedling, now. And from the look on her face, the way she glanced at the office door, I was wearing her down.
"Fine. That much won't hurt." Toby leaned toward me, all eager now. Like she'd been dying to spill. Bless her. "John has been investigating Pete Wilkins for years, the two old enemies from school. John's never trusted him and Pete proved to be about as honest as your dad expected." She licked her lips, glancing once more at the silent office. "Fraud, building code violations, you name it, going back decades. All of his projects were under scrutiny, including the ski lodge and golf course." Olivia wouldn't be very happy about that. "But it all fell through just recently. Just before your father retired." Toby leaned away, looking sad. "That's all I can tell you."
It was more than I needed. I knew my father, his stubbornness, his relentless pursuit of justice. What would he do if he failed in an investigation? He would go to any lengths to ensure the law was upheld. But murder? Surely he would never go that far. And why, why would he be at my place with Pete? An accident I could see. Maybe the contractor met Dad there that night to talk about the signature and Dad pushed him and...
And.
"Sheriff Turner called your dad in," Toby said as if unable to help herself, like she hadn't just told me she couldn't say more. "The coroner reexamined the evidence and the bruise on Pete's leg? Happened right before he died. Means he didn't slip on his own. That his fall had help. And that means manslaughter at the least."
She covered her mouth with both hands then, shook her head like she'd said too much at last.
"I need to talk to the sheriff." I looked at the closed door. "I have some information he might be interested in. Suspects."
Toby lurched to her feet, hands reaching for me as she hurried around her desk. I found myself being pushed backward toward the exit, panic on her face.
"Just go, Fee, please." Why was everyone so insistent I stay out of this? You'd think she'd want me to give over evidence. Instead, she seemed worried. "Let the sheriff take care of things."
"Do you mean Dad," I asked, "or Crew?"
Toby hesitated and I knew exactly who she referred to. Because change in guard or not, Dad would always be her sheriff.
So was she protecting him from himself? Seemed likely. And that made me very nervous.
Before Toby could make me leave, the office door opened and Pamela exited, looking angry. Which meant neither of the men gave her the information she was clearly after. I used the distraction, skirting around the office receptionist and hurrying through the swinging door at the low gate that separated the front entry from the bullpen and stormed into the office, slamming the door shut behind me so Toby couldn't stop me.
"I have information," I said, a little breathless as the two men stared at me like I'd taken them both by surprise. Good, maybe they'd listen then. "Do you want it or not?"
Dad met Crew's gaze and the two shrugged.
"Wow," I snapped. "With that kind of enthusiasm a girl could really start to feel like she's wanted."
"Just tell us what you know," Crew said like it caused him great pain to speak.
Would have served them both right if I'd turned around and marched out of there. But Petunia's was on the line, let alone murder being back on the table. I relented, telling them about Simon and Terri before sharing Daisy's recollection of the fight between Jared and Pete. They listened, at least, both frowning by the end of it. But neither mentioned the father/son issue, instead focusing on the flower shop.
"We already know there are other victims," Dad said like I was wasting his time.
"News to me," Crew said, scowling at Dad. "That doesn't mean I'm reopening the case, John."
The two faced off like I wasn't there and again the boy hormone levels rose to a disgusting height.
"The man is dead," Crew said at last. "Let it go. And trust me to handle it." He met my eyes, his unreadable. "Now, if you'll escort your daughter out of my office, I have work to do."
Dad mumbled something that sounded a lot like a curse word before he turned his back on Crew, caught my arm in his hand, and began to drag me away.
"Both of you are to make yourselves available for questioning when I need to talk to you." Crew called after us as I staggered after Dad, just tugging free of him as the new sheriff slammed his own door behind me. I scowled up at my father who glared back before turning and stomping out, still muttering to himself.
Leaving me to toss my hands and stare after him in frustration even as the smiling face of Pamela Shard invaded my personal space. Her crisp, blue suit and white shell made her feel professional enough to be a bit intimidating. Or would have if I wasn't my father's daughter. Not that the fact was going to stop her from trying.
"Fiona Fleming," she said, dark, shark eyes cold, bobbed off brown hair tucked neatly behind her ears in no-nonsense sleek lines. "I have some questions for you."
***