Gordon arrived at the courthouse in Leroy right at ten o’clock, just in time to see Detective Hart pull into the visitor’s lot behind him. Without exchanging a single word, they walked together to the rear entrance of the sheriff’s department and were buzzed in.
The deputy behind the bulletproof glass recognized Gordon. “Hey, Agent. How’s it going? The sheriff’s expecting you. I’ll have you sign in while I let him know you’re here.” He picked up the phone and punched in a number.
“Thanks,” Gordon said as he signed the sheet the deputy provided. “And it’s going. How about you?”
“Things have been better, but they could be worse. You know how it goes.” Once they’d been given visitor badges, he buzzed them through the steel-plated door beside his desk. “The sheriff’s waiting for you in the large conference room. You remember where that is?”
“Down this hall, turn left, turn right?” Gordon clipped on his visitor badge.
“You’ve got it. Good luck today.”
“Thanks.”
Gordon led the way to the conference room, where Wyatt was waiting, leaning on the edge of the table. Stacy Kirchner was also there, her face stony. A flare of anger, one of many little pricks of flame that had been burning inside him lately, rose in Gordon, this one sparked by pure regret. Wyatt had warned him that not everyone would see his involvement in this process as helpful, and apparently the sheriff had been right.
Wyatt stood when the men stopped in the doorway. “Gentlemen.”
Gordon stepped inside. “Sheriff, this is Detective Greg Hart from Lexington. Detective Hart, Sheriff Dixon and Detective Stacy Kirchner.” Gordon stood back as they shook hands. He nodded at Stacy. “Detective.”
He wasn’t surprised when she barely acknowledged him, and he had no doubt that if the situation had been a more social setting, she would have turned her back on him.
“Have a seat, gentlemen.” Wyatt went to the other side of the table and took a chair. He leaned back, studying Hart for a minute. “So you want to bring Chase Hudson in for questioning. Tell me why I should let you do that.”
Hart opened a portfolio and drew out a paper, which he passed across the table. “As we discussed on the phone last night, aside from recent events with mysterious packages, Mr. Hudson’s alibi from ten years ago has come into question. Upon exhumation of the victim, we discovered a note, which you have a copy of there.” He gestured to the paper. “In light of those developments, we really didn’t feel like we had a choice in the matter.”
Wyatt picked up his reading glasses and scanned the paper. A slight scowl was his only reaction. When he finished, he passed the note to Stacy. “Who is this we you keep referring to?”
“That would be my supervisors and myself,” Hart answered.
“And what about Neal Bledsoe? Does he have a say in all this? Never mind—I already know the answer to that,” Wyatt said in a deceptively soft tone. He shifted his gaze to Gordon. “Isn’t the FBI leading the investigation?”
“Only as it pertains to the correspondence Chase has received and the connection it has to Kiely’s death. That said, we’re prepared to step in and take over the entire investigation if need be, but for now, my supervisor has instructed me to let Detective Hart take the lead.” Gordon gave Wyatt a subtle nod, letting him know the plan they had discussed the night before was still in play.
With an unhappy grunt, the sheriff leaned forward. “Answer me this, Detective. When all this came about ten years ago, didn’t someone in your department think to get a DNA sample from Chase, or was that too advanced for the Lexington PD?”
The younger man flushed. “We did obtain a sample. However, at some point in the past few years, that evidence was lost.”
Wyatt pursed his lips and nodded. “Well, that’s interesting. I do wonder what happened to that sample and whether it’s liable to show up somewhere. Is there any other evidence your department has lost on this case that you’d like to share with us?”
Hart was so tense Gordon could tell he was on the verge of smarting off to Wyatt, which would have been a bad move and something Gordon would have paid a month’s salary to witness, maybe two. After a minute, Hart shook his head.
“Good. At least there’s that.” Wyatt folded his glasses and tucked them in the pocket of his shirt. “I can appreciate your position. That doesn’t mean I have to like it. You’re aware that Chase Hudson is related to two of my best people, correct?”
“I am.”
“I’ve known him since he was a child. He isn’t your murderer. I’d be willing to stake my badge on that,” Wyatt told him bluntly.
“You aren’t the only person who’s said such. Unfortunately, it isn’t enough,” Hart responded.
“I do realize that, which is why you’re being allowed in here today,” Wyatt said as he stood, towering over Hart. As Wyatt wasn’t a small man and in fact was taller than Gordon’s own six-foot-four frame by at least an inch, the move could easily have been construed as intimidation. “I have no faith that what you’re trying to do here has a damned thing to do with solving this case. Let’s get this farce over with.”
As the three of them followed him into the hall, Wyatt directed Stacy to set up the interrogation room. “I want you in the room while Detective Hart questions Chase.”
“Yes, sir.” She headed off to take care of the preparations, not giving the men a backward glance.
Wyatt turned in time to catch Gordon watching her walk away, and he raised an eyebrow. “You do like a challenge, son. Let’s do this. We’ll go bring Chase in. Gordon, you’re driving.”
“Actually, he’s already on his way,” Gordon said. “I spoke to him about an hour ago. He should be here any minute.”
“You what?” Hart’s face turned nearly purple with rage. “You warned him?”
“I advised him that he needed legal counsel and that you have a warrant for his DNA—that’s all.” Gordon stared at the other man, hoping his poker face was as strong as it had been in the past. The stakes had never been so personal before, and he had to focus on the plan he and Wyatt had come up with to keep his emotions level. Otherwise, he’d slam Hart into the wall.
“Bullshit that’s what you did. If you compromised this case, Agent, I’ll have your fucking badge. I need to call my superior and let him know about this.” He stalked off toward the parking lot, muttering angrily.
Wyatt’s eyebrows were raised, and he whistled. “That was risky.”
“Calling Chase to come in? It was necessary.”
“I can’t argue, though your methods are a little unorthodox.” He studied Gordon. “This is your last chance to back out. I wouldn’t hold it against you if you did.”
Gordon’s answering smile was grim. “You might not, but I would. No, I’m in this for the long haul. For better or worse, if you will. Tell me—how bad do you think this is going to be?”
The sheriff clapped him on the shoulder briefly. “I’m afraid it’s going to be bad enough.”