The Perfect Daughter - Joseph Souza Page 0,60

canceled the interview he was supposed to have with her tonight.

He’d known many locals—good people—who’d gone bad for one reason or another, and it never ceased to surprise him. People who’d turned to drugs or property theft. He recalled the housewife who’d embezzled three thousand dollars from the Little League she’d managed. Come to find out, her husband had lost his job and the family’s financial situation had hit rock bottom. Chester Allan had put a pillow over his wife’s face when her dementia worsened. Tommy Bigelow had started selling and using meth after his wife left him for his best friend. Karl understood all these destructive acts, even felt compassion for the guilty parties. They were in line with what he knew about this town and its citizens. But now it seemed as if Shepherd’s Bay had its first bona fide serial kidnapper—or killer. Finally, he thought, this little Maine town was joining the twenty-first century.

The political signs around town were everywhere, pointing him to a possible answer. The more he viewed these signs, the more he came to believe that a local had committed these crimes. It made perfect sense. It explained the intense animosity toward the affluent who’d settled here, with their big bucks and big attitudes. In his mind, it also explained why Katie Eaves had been allowed to go free. An embittered townie, angry at the changing nature of Shepherd’s Bay, would be reluctant to kill one of their own. It would go against everything the person held near and dear. Katie had just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or maybe the beating given to her was a warning to all the local kids to stay clear of their affluent peers.

But would killing rich kids change the political climate? Possibly, assuming the affluent decided that Shepherd’s Bay was a dangerous place to settle and raise kids. Or if they believed they were being unfairly targeted. Or that the townies resented them and would do everything in their power to drive them out. Shepherd’s Bay had always been a safe and welcoming community—until now. Would the threat of a hefty property tax be enough to drive them out? Maybe if the proposed tax passed, it would, but until then, these newcomers would put up a fight.

Politics had never concerned him. In fact, he rarely voted, he hated politics that much. Yes, the schools’ infrastructure around town desperately needed upgrades. Teachers and cops needed cost-of-living increases, as well. But the town had benefitted greatly from the wealth of these rich newcomers. They patronized restaurants and cafés and, as a result, attracted higher-end chefs, coffee roasters, and gourmet stores that existed only in big cities like Portland. Last year a heavily tattooed guy from Brooklyn had arrived in town and opened a microbrewery called Shepherd’s Bay Brewing Company.

His plate came out piled high with meat loaf, green beans, and mashed potatoes, all smothered in gravy. The waitress refilled his mug of coffee and gave him a begrudging smile. He was one of those lucky few in life who could eat to his heart’s content and never put on any weight. Since high school, he’d gained only ten pounds, and that was only because he’d grown another two inches.

Before digging in, he texted Isla and asked if he could come over later and have another word with Katie. Was he interviewing the girl as a way to see Isla? He thought himself a consummate and professional cop. Still, after all those years, he’d expected not to feel anything for her. And then he had sat across from her in her kitchen a few nights ago, and all those feelings had come rushing back.

He remembered being at the hospital and watching with curiosity as Swisher pressed that wad of bills into her palm. Had he been trying to conceal it? Maybe he should follow the guy around town and see what he was up to. He’d heard rumors that Swisher had been seen hanging around with Bugger Walsh, a well-known lowlife and convicted criminal with a considerable rap sheet. He had no idea how someone could harvest and sell seaweed as a health food product. Then again, he hadn’t kept up on all the latest fads and food trends. The idea of putting seaweed in his mouth repulsed him.

The two slabs of meat loaf on his plate had to be an inch thick and five inches long and were smothered in dense gravy the

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