I locked up and left Kingston napping on his perch. I decided a quick trip to the police station was in order before I headed home. I hadn't heard from Briggs all day, and it wasn't like him not to at least send a text to say hello. I could only assume he was swamped with work, what with two murders and all the other police business he was required to perform. He was just lucky he had me hot on the trail too, I thought with a mental pat on the back. Of course, hot on the trail wasn't exactly accurate, more like lukewarm, and there wasn't really a trail but more like a few scattered stepping stones.
Briggs' car wasn't in front of the station, which signaled he wasn't in the office. I continued inside though, hoping I could do a little snooping in the evidence room. I'd been sort of wound up in my other investigation, the Hawksworth murders, and it had kept me from really digging deeper into the recent murders. I was prepared to go full steam ahead to get these cases solved before I continued on the Hawksworth mystery.
Hilda had been busy stringing up some of her cheesy fall decorations, garlands of fake leaves that, unlike some of the more impressive garlands I'd seen at the craft store, looked truly unnatural. I could have colored leaves on a piece of paper, cut them out, strung them up and they would have looked more real. But it made me smile anyhow. Hilda was always trying her best to make the very plain and stark station office look more inviting.
"Lacey," Hilda chirruped as she glanced over the chin height counter. "If you're here to see Detective Briggs, he was called to the courthouse this afternoon. Boy, was he mad too. Poor guy has so much stuff on his plate. They pull him in far too many directions, if you ask me."
"I agree, Hilda. I suppose Officer Chinmoor is out on patrol?" I asked.
"Yes, although he just radioed that he was taking a dinner break. Oh, would you like to try a piece of my coffee cake? I made it this morning and brought it in. I sent a big slice with James this morning." She picked the plate up off her desk and placed it on the counter. "It's cinnamon streusel," she announced proudly. Hilda loved to bake things. Unfortunately, she was the opposite end of the spectrum from Elsie when it came to baking talent. I couldn't count how many dry, flavorless cookies and crunchy, bitter brownies I'd had to choke down with a smile, all while profusely complimenting her. Briggs thought it might be less dangerous to our health if we just confessed to her that her baked goods weren't all that tasty, but I immediately stopped that idea. So we were forced to continually taste and enjoy Hilda's confections. But today, I had a good excuse at the ready.
"I'm sure it's delicious." I took a deep whiff. There was definitely cinnamon, but I wasn't going to be fooled by its mouthwatering aroma. "I can't possibly. Elsie brought me a cinnamon muffin just a few minutes ago, one of her jumbo muffins. It had cinnamon topping just like this cake. I think I've reached my baked good quota for the day. Thank you though. You can tell James that he can have my piece."
Hilda's mouth turned down in disappointment. "Well, all right, if you're sure you've had enough. I know Elsie's muffins are probably way better than my coffee cake."
"I'm sure that's not true." I tried my hardest to sound sincere.
Hilda smiled and picked up the plate. "I guess I'll just give your piece to James. He probably finished the first chunk hours ago, so he'll be ready for more."
I pulled my lips in to fight a giggle. What a stinker I was. "Hilda, I hate to bother you, but do you think you could let me into the evidence room?"
She looked less than enthusiastic. "Oh, I don't know, Lacey, with neither of the boys here, I'm not sure it's a good idea."
"I'm sure James won't mind," I said. "He knows I'm working on the murder cases. He's so busy, I'm sure he'll be extra pleased if I can find something helpful. I only need to see one piece of evidence. I'll take a quick look, then we can lock the room up and that will be the end of it." I gave her my best pleading look over the tall counter.
Her cheeks puffed with a grin. "I guess it couldn't hurt. Besides, I sometimes think you're better at solving these murders than the professionals. I know most of that is due to that powerful nose of yours." She buzzed me through the gate and picked up her keys. "Is it an article of clothing?" she asked.
"I beg your pardon?" I'd gone into sleuth mode, and I was plotting out my next step.
Our footsteps echoed down the narrow, empty hallway to the evidence room.
"The evidence you're going to sniff? Is it clothing?"
"Oh, that. No, actually, I just want to look at something. No sniffing today."
Hilda looked wide eyed at me. "Well, all right. I suppose that can't hurt either." She pushed the key in and fiddled with the lock a few seconds before pushing open the door.
"I'm looking for a photograph from the Lionel Dexter murder investigation," I said.
Hilda and I perused the shelves. The evidence bag with the picture was sitting next to a box containing Lionel's shoes.
"Wait," Hilda said as I reached for the bag. I worried she had changed her mind about letting me see the evidence. She spun around and hurried to the metal table used to examine evidence. She plucked two latex gloves from the box and carried them back to me. "Can't forget these."
"You're right. Thanks." I pulled the gloves on, picked up the bag and carried it to the table. It was a small enough piece of evidence that the table wasn't really necessary, but it seemed Hilda wanted to make sure we did everything by the book. Briggs had allowed me into the evidence room many times. I was sure he'd have no qualms about letting me see the photo, but I didn't want Hilda to worry. I hadn't expected her to stick around but she lingered nonetheless, so I was very slow and methodical about my approach, assuring her I'd done it all before. In truth, the entire process could have taken me just seconds, and we'd already be heading out the door.
I unsealed the bag and pulled out the picture. It had been crumpled at some point, but someone had taken the time to smooth it out so the image was clear. Lionel and Glenda were walking along the wharf, holding hands and seemingly enjoying their stroll. Glenda was wearing her oversized sunglasses, and Lionel was wearing a gray suit, entirely overdressed for a stroll at the beach. That seemed to be his usual style. It seemed he'd decided dapper was the best look for tricking women into loving him. Not that I had proof yet that he was a philanderer, but evidence was sure pointing in that direction.
There were several bright lights above the table that acted like spotlights. I moved the photo under one for a better look. "The photo quality," I muttered.
Hilda leaned over to look at it. "Looks like someone needs a new printer. The blue ocean looks sort of green."
I peered up at her. "And blacks look gray. I know who printed this photo, or at least I'm nearly positive." I was so giddy I surprised Hilda with an impromptu hug.
She pressed her hand to her chest and laughed lightly. "Wow, did we just solve the murder? James will be thrilled."
"Well, we didn't solve the murder yet, but we did solve the mystery of who was delivering incriminating photos of Lionel Dexter to the women he was dating. It's an important step," I assured her.
I realized I had to tamp down my enthusiasm a bit. The photo was only evidence that Heather was the anonymous tipster. There was still nothing connecting Heather to the murder or to Lionel and Glenda except that she happened to take a picture of them walking on the wharf. But why?
I needed to hurry. Heather told Elsie she needed another sunset shot, and the sun was already low in the sky. I pushed the photo back into the bag, sealed it up and placed it right back in the exact same location.
I pulled off the gloves and tossed them in the trash. "Thank you so much for letting me do this, Hilda. I'll let James know I pleaded and begged and wouldn't let you take no for an answer."
We headed out of the room. "I'm sure that's not necessary, especially if this whole escapade helped move the case forward."
We reached the front office, and I gave her another brief hug before heading out the door. I needed to get to the beach and find out what Heather Houston was up to.