Dead Giveaway (Stillwater Trilogy #2)(84)
Author: Brenda Novak

After he’d stepped outside, he turned back. "You should know something, Allie," he said.

"What?" She expected him to tell her not to judge him too harshly, that everyone makes mistakes. Or that he’d appreciate her help in trying to talk to Evelyn. But nothing prepared her for what actually came out of his mouth.

"I think it was Hendricks who shot Clay."

It took a moment for those words to register. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

"No."

"What makes you think so?"

"Yesterday, I found your gun hidden in the evidence room, yet I’ve seen no report of its having been turned in."

The evidence room was usually locked, and all the officers had access to the key. "That means it could be anyone on the force," she said.

"No. Hendricks is the only one who works alone. I’d bet money it was him."

"But why would he want to kill Clay?"

"Maybe he didn’t," he said. "Maybe he wanted the money for a down payment on a new truck."

"He’s driving one?"

"I saw it a few hours ago."

Allie waited impatiently for Madeline to pick up the phone.

Clay’s stepsister answered on the fourth ring. "Stillwater Independent."

"Maddy?"

"Yeah?"

"It’s Allie."

"What’s up, Allie?"

"Has the reward you posted for information on the shooting turned up any leads?"

"No."

"None?"

"Not one. I would’ve called you right away. Why?"

Allie swallowed a sigh. "Just checking."

There was a slight pause. "I’m sorry."

"We’re all sorry," she said.

The clutter and absolute filth of Hendricks’s house was appalling, and so was the stench. It was all Allie could do not to call after his wife, who’d answered the door and gone to get him, that she’d meet him in the front yard.

A teenage boy and girl lounged on the worn orange couches in the family room to her left, playing video games. It was early afternoon, but they were still wearing T-shirts and pajama bottoms and hadn’t combed their hair. To her right, a toddler with a sagging diaper and no other clothes foraged in the kitchen cupboards, pulling out one cereal box after another and eating what he wanted.

The stairs creaked. Trying not to gag when the toddler ate something off the floor, Allie looked up to see Hendricks’s wife, Colleen, returning. "He said he’ll call you later, when he wakes up. He’s exhausted. You know how it is when you work graveyard."

Allie hesitated. She was about to insist on speaking to him now. With everything that’d been going on, she was desperate for answers. But she figured it might be smart to get the tape first and see what was on it. She’d have a lot more leverage if Hendricks showed up clearly enough to be identified. "No problem," she said. "Let me give you my new number."

It took a while, but after digging through several drawers in the kitchen and living room, Colleen finally came up with a pen and paper and wrote down Allie’s number.

"How’s that cut on your husband’s hand?" Allie asked as they walked to the door.

Colleen shook her head. "It’s healing, but it needed six stitches."

Allie caught her breath. She’d been bluffing, but the bluff had paid off. "That’s what I heard," she said sympathetically. "How did it happen?"

"At work."

"At the department or–"

She must’ve sounded a little too eager, because Colleen’s simple, trusting smile faded and her expression grew guarded. "I’m not sure. You’ll have to ask him."

"I’ll do that." Allie stepped out and waved toward the brand new Ford F-150 sitting in the weed-filled driveway. "Nice truck. Maybe I’ll be able save enough for one of those someday."

"It’s nice, but I’m a little worried about the payments."

"You financed it?" Allie asked.

"Of course," Colleen said, then the door closed with a decisive click.

"Do you have it?" Clay asked.

Allie transferred the phone to her other ear and glanced at the tape on the passenger seat of her car. "I do."

"What does it show?"

She could hear the caution in his voice, the effort he was making not to expect too much.

"The tape’s old and grainy," she said. "But I can see a heavyset man buying Band-Aids. He’s acting fidgety and wearing a baseball cap."

"A red one?"

"The tape’s black-and-white. But it’s not Jed’s hat, if that’s what you’re wondering. It has a different logo."

"Is there any way to tell who it is?"

Allie slowed to navigate a particularly tight curve. "From the man’s build, it looks an awful lot like Hendricks."

"Who?"

"Officer Hendricks," she said and explained what her father had told her earlier.

"But why would Hendricks steal your gun and leave you that note?" Clay asked.

She turned down the music she had playing in the background. "I think he was trying to be clever, to make me believe it was you."

"So you’d finally fall in line with the Vincellis and everyone else?"

"I guess. I was the lone holdout, and he was trying to convert me."

"Why? He doesn’t really have a vested interest in the situation. He’s not related to the Vincellis. He sees them at church and they’re sociable to him. But he’s married with kids. I’ve never even seen him with Joe or his brother."

"Money," Allie explained. "The Vincellis or someone else paid him to do it."

There was a long silence, as if Clay was thinking it through.

"If you hadn’t stopped at the same gas station, he probably wouldn’t have shot you," she went on. "I don’t think you were actually supposed to be involved."

"He must’ve seen me when I pulled in and thought I saw him, too."

"That’s my guess."

"So he returned to the cabin to make sure I didn’t tell anyone." He paused. "For a cop, he didn’t do a very good job of silencing me."

"It was so dark, and what he was doing probably scared the hell out of him. The next day, when he realized you weren’t dead, it was too late to be any more thorough. But I doubt he would’ve had the nerve to try again, anyway."

"By now, he must think he got away clean."

"Since the video isn’t clear enough to prove it was him beyond a reasonable doubt, maybe he will get away clean," she said sadly.

"Did you check the inside of your car before you had the window fixed? See if he left any blood behind?"