CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Jack stood on the sidewalk across from the street from the Yourke County Courthouse and absently stared into the shop window at a uniformed mannequin.

Congratulations, Eddie. You’re going to be a father.

Jack almost dropped his phone when Julie said it. Pregnant? He’d looked at his brother, panic clutching his chest, and was slightly relieved to see as much shock on Eddie’s face as Jack felt.

“Take your call.” Eddie had motioned to the forgotten phone Jack clutched to his chest.

“Ann.” Jack’s voice was a croak.

“Simon wants to see us ten minutes ago. Can you get down here?”

“Yeah. I’m on my way.”

Eddie clutched Jack’s shoulder. “Consider the source here, bro. There’s no way Julie knows for sure.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Could she be?”

Jack thought back over the last few days, Ellie’s behavior, the bug she couldn’t shake, her weight loss, not drinking at the bonfire. Calculating days to weeks. But, they’d been careful, used condoms every time.

Jack’s eyes widened. Except the first.

“Christ. Maybe.”

“I’ll take care of Julie. You go do what you need to do. Hey.” Eddie snapped his fingers in front of Jack’s face. “Are you okay to drive?”

“I have to see her.”

“I know. I’ll arrange it.”

“Tonight.”

“I know, bro. I’ll text you the where and when later today. You go solve Matt and Amy’s murder.”

Ann Newberry patted Jack’s shoulder, jolting him out of his trance.

“Taking the plunge?”

“What?”

Her brow furrowed in concern. “Do you feel bad? You’re pale and sweaty. And you sounded strange on the phone.”

Jack swallowed down the lump in his throat and forced a smile. “Bad eggs.”

She didn’t buy it. “Uh-huh. Come on, then. Simon’s bursting with news.”

“Know what about?”

“He wouldn’t tell me. Wanted to tell us together.” They walked across the street and down the sidewalk. “He’s about the only person in the county who’s happy with all the crime going on. My guess is he’s ID’d our fire victims.”

They stopped in front of a windowless metal building two streets behind the square. Ann pressed the buzzer and looked up at the security camera. The door buzzed, and she opened it for Jack. Simon stood in a doorway halfway down the hall, motioning for Jack and Ann to hurry up. “Lots of things to cover,” he said, not even attempting to control his excitement. Once inside, Jack spotted a 9 mm in a bag lying next to the microscope. Jack thought he recognized the handwriting.

“Did Miner drop it off?”

Simon glanced at the gun and dismissed it. “Yeah. Yesterday afternoon.”

“Is it for the Doyle case?”

Simon huffed in irritation. “If you’ll be patient, I’ll get to it. First, the fire victims. They’ve ID’d one of them. Paco Morales, like you suspected. Dental records confirmed it. There was nothing identifying on the other man. So, he’s still a John Doe.”

Simon swiveled his stool and rolled to a table holding a microscope. “But when we swept the area for trace evidence, I found this.” He held up a baggie containing a charred metal circle. He turned the baggie around to show the clasp on the other side.

“It’s a pin,” Ann said.

“A campaign pin.”

Excitement coursed through Jack’s body. This was it. The piece of evidence that would unlock it. Don’t jump to conclusions. Listen. Think.

“Like this one.” Simon held up a red, white, and blue VOTE FOR JOE pin and held it next to the charred one. Their sizes matched perfectly.

“I’ll be damned.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, boys, but there are hundreds of those pins in Stillwater,” Ann said. “Was it found on either body?”

“No. In the area.”

“The killer might have dropped it,” Jack said.

“Or a random flopper dropped it emptying out their pockets while searching for a lighter to get high. They’ve been handing those things out like candy canes at Christmas. It’s thin, and you know it.”

“You’re right.” Simon adjusted his microscope and said, “Look.”

Ann let Jack go first. He leaned in. The underside of the pin contained a clearly defined partial print. Jack stepped back.

“Whose print is it?”

“Michelle Doyle Ryan’s.”

“How are her prints in the system?” Jack said.

“She was busted in college for vandalism. The charges were dropped but not before she was processed,” Simon said.

Ann raised an eyebrow, but her response, if she had one, was cut off by Simon. “That’s not the most interesting thing I have for you.”

He opened a manila file folder and pulled out three sheets of paper. “Now, don’t go expecting this kind of turnaround in the future, but I had a hunch.” His laugh sounded like a goose honking. On one sheet, two bullets with identical markings were pictured. “The fire victims.” He put down another sheet with two bullet markings. “The Doyles.” The final sheet was from the Bureau with a picture of a single bullet’s rifling markings. Jack didn’t need to see the name at the top of the page to guess whose it was.

“Son of a bitch,” Ann said.

Jack grinned and nodded. Finally, a direct connection between the Pedrozas and fucking Joe Doyle. “They were all shot with my gun.”