that Lucas was choosing Maggie over her.” Emily planted her hands on her hips. “Josh might be the easiest suspect, Ernie, but he can’t be the only one.”
“All right, who else is on your list?” Ernie asked, crossing his arms over his girth.
“Just about anyone who invested in the Whitetail Resort.”
“Yeah, I had a whole passel of folks storming the police station yesterday morning, wondering where their money was,” Ernie said. “How was I supposed to know where their money was? That job’s far above my pay grade.”
“I’d say start with the short list first, Ernie,” Colin recommended. “Then, if the murder weapon doesn’t turn up at any of those places, I’ll help you narrow down the investor pool to possible suspects.”
“The police chief isn’t going to like me burning through city funds chasing after all these potential suspects,” Ernie waved his arms as he spoke, “when we already have our prime suspect under arrest—especially ones like the mayor and some of our wealthiest citizens.”
“Just tell him Doc Walters has identified the murder weapon and you’ll leave no stone unturned in this town to find it. Besides, you’re on the payroll whether there’s a case or not, so you might as well be working for your pay. He’ll understand that,” Colin encouraged him.
Ernie nodded in agreement.
“You don’t think anyone’s gotten into this office since the murder, do you?” Emily asked, stepping past Ernie, peeking into the office from the barrier of the yellow crime scene tape.
“I can’t imagine how. I used Lucas’s key to lock it up. It’s here in my pocket,” Ernie replied, digging the key out.
“What about Fiona? Wouldn’t she have a key?” Emily scanned the room.
“She swore to me she didn’t have one, claimed Lucas was very private about the project, and didn’t want anyone in the office when he wasn’t here.” Ernie shoved the key back in his pocket.
“And you believed her?” Emily asked pointedly, as she turned her attention back to him.
“Why shouldn’t I?” Ernie asked, cocking his head and knitting his eyebrows together.
“Think about it, Ernie. If she does have a key, she could easily have gotten in and taken whatever she wanted since the murder. She probably has access to the files on Lucas’s computer, too.”
“I guess I could post an officer here, night and day, but I doubt the police chief would approve that,” the detective suggested, pushing his hands into his pants pockets.
“My guess is that if she wanted something out of this office, Ernie, she’s already been here and taken it.” Emily scrunched her lips sideways in exasperation.
“She’s right, Ernie.” Colin crossed his arms, shifting his weight to one hip. “Are you having a techie go through his computer? There may be clues there—emails, banking information, documents—who knows.”
“Well, I can tell you the CSI team took both Lucas’s and Fiona’s computers with them this morning. They said they’d let me know if they found anything.” Ernie hiked his pants up by the waist again. “I hope there’s a clue to where all that money went.”
At the word money, Emily’s thoughts immediately darted to Sully Sullivan and the hundred thousand dollars he desperately needed back. She wondered if Lucas had kept any incriminating notes in the computer about the mayor’s indiscretion.
“If there isn’t a clue,” Ernie predicted with a slight shake of his head, “there’ll be hell to pay.”
~*~
“Why don’t we stop at Moxie Java, Emily? I could use some coffee,” Colin suggested as he drove down Main Street on his way to drop her off at home.
“Mmm, that sounds good. I could use a pick-me-up right now. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Why not?” His voice showed concern, as he glanced in the rearview mirror, then took a quick look at the side mirrors.
“Just a lot on my mind,” she watched him, “with the murder, and Maggie and Josh, and Jethro, and you—” she noticed him checking the mirrors again, “—is something wrong?”
“Don’t look, but I think we’re being followed.”
She spun around and looked out the rear window.
“Hey, didn’t I say don’t look? Why do people always do that?” he grumbled.
She whipped back forward, eyes staring straight ahead. “Is this better?”
“I’m serious. Why is someone following us?” He looked in the mirror again as he pulled into a parking space in front of the coffee shop. This time the car was gone.
“Maybe it was nothing,” she said.
“I guess when you turned around and looked, he saw he was made and turned off.”
“What kind of car was it?” she asked.
“Black,