to overtime. Everyone knew the department’s budget was habitually tight. Maybe I was glad they were staying. I did appreciate the concern. Still, I wasn’t sure it was a good idea for my officers to think they had to protect me. “You should both go home,” I said again. “Really, I’m fine here. You don’t have to worry.”
“Too late,” Stef said. “Mullins is on his way, and he’s bringing all of us dinner.”
“Mullins? He should be home with his family,” I said. “His daughter—”
“He heard about the crowd,” Conroy said. “He didn’t ask. He said he was coming.”
It was at that moment that Detective Jeff Mullins, carrying sacks from the diner, bustled in the front door shouting behind him: “I told you folks to go the hell home. Now get out of here!” He was about to slam the door, but held it open for a moment longer and yelled out: “The chief’s working hard on my daughter’s murder, the others, figuring out who killed them all. Chief Jefferies doesn’t need the distraction of all of you being so ridiculous. So, go the hell home!”
Mullins walked in mad, glowering at no one in particular. “Mullins, you didn’t have to do this,” I said.
“I wanted to be here,” he said, squirreling his cheeks high while he clenched his mouth into a decidedly unhappy frown. “I’m not here because of those folks out there. I want to hear what happened with Myles. Where we stand on the case.”
The crowd outside thinned and then disbanded as we ate our burgers from the diner. Stef and Conroy finally took off for the night, but Mullins and I sat in the station’s meager breakroom at a table with a cracked Formica finish.
“Do you think Myles did it?” Mullins asked.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Max and I have doubts about the confession. We’re not convinced.”
Mullins looked relieved. “You still have the squad protecting my grandson, right?” he asked. “In case it’s not Myles and the killer comes back?”
“Yes, I do,” I assured him. “We’re not going to leave Jeremy unguarded until we’re sure this is over.”
Apparently satisfied, Mullins began playing with an onion ring he’d peeled off his burger. It was filling the air with a heavy odor. “I can’t get my mind around it, that there’s any chance he did it,” he said. “I’m not going to believe Myles killed Laurel until I see that note myself and read the autopsy that says he committed suicide.”
At that moment, my cell went off. Doc Wiley’s number displayed on the screen, and I considered putting him on speaker so Mullins could hear, but decided not to.
“Doc, you finished the autopsy, I take it?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “I’m not going to be able to come up with a determination on manner of death until morning.”
“Doc, I know you’re tired. It’s been a long couple of days for all of us, but we really need to know how Myles died tonight,” I said. “What’s the problem?”
“I think I know what happened here, but I’m not sure,” he said, sounding irritated. “Sometimes I need help. I’m an internist first, not really a pathologist, remember?”
That was true. He had been pressed to take over the medical examiner’s responsibilities for the county when his predecessor retired, but Doc Wiley was more comfortable stitching up a wound, delivering a baby, or prescribing antibiotics for a sinus infection than issuing rulings on cause and manner of death.
“Doc, why not tell me what you do know?” I suggested. “Time is important and waiting until morning—”
At that, my lead detective grabbed my phone and put it on speaker: “Mullins here, Doc. What’s the hang-up? What did you find?”
“I’m not going to go into it tonight, Jeff,” Doc said. He let out an aggravated sigh, as if we were trying his patience. “I’ve contacted a pathologist who specializes in drownings, based in Nebraska of all places. Took forever for me to find such a guy, but he’s agreed to look over the photos and my notes first thing tomorrow, so I’ll have what you’re waiting for then. Right now, I can’t do more for the night. And all of us could use a good night’s sleep.”
Mullins’ shoulders sagged, and he looked beaten. “You know, Doc, this is my girl who got murdered. My Laurel. You should tell me what you’re thinking, not hold anything back.”
Doc didn’t answer.
I looked at Mullins, how fragile he appeared, and I fought two urges—one to help him push Doc so we