Sleep didn’t come easily that night even with a melatonin tablet and four aspirin. I knew we were close to our aha moment, and I couldn’t wait to find out if our gut instincts were right. Did all of those murders lead right back to the mayor, and if so, why? If we found something horrific that happened in May on the same night the mayor attended the function at Silver Shores Resort and Paul Lawrence was bartending, we could possibly piece together a motive for the murders. Somehow, some way, Michael Kent was the catalyst.
I had to force myself out of bed that Tuesday morning, not because I wasn’t excited to get to work but because I was still exhausted. I stumbled into the bathroom and took a look at my face in the mirror. I groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding.” My nose was swollen, and hints of blue underlined both eyes. I let out a puff of air and turned on the shower faucet. “What else is new?”
After taking a hot shower and getting dressed, I downed two cups of coffee and a filling egg-and-bacon breakfast, compliments of my little sister. Then I was back in form and raring to go. I listened as Amber berated me about being more careful. I thanked her for the concern then heard the same warning from Kate when she entered the kitchen.
“What the hell happened to you?”
“I slammed into a fist last night.”
She shook her head. “Or a fist slammed into you. You really ought to be more careful. It isn’t like you’re a rookie cop for Pete’s sake.”
“Sorry. I was on the phone with Renz when some asshat sucker punched me in the dark just as I hung up. I didn’t see or hear him coming.” I guzzled the last of my coffee. “Gotta go. Maybe if we’re lucky, we’ll capture those punks and get them to talk.”
“Is one of those punks the asshat who clocked you?” Kate asked.
“Yep, he sure is.”
“Good, then I hope you get them too.”
I said my goodbyes and headed out. I couldn’t wait to hear if any of those three had been apprehended overnight. If they hadn’t been, we would air all their faces on the news and do our best to put them behind bars before the end of the day. Tommy and Fay should have news to share about their interview with Paul Lawrence last night, and then as a team, we needed to search harder in the archived records for something that might have happened in May to set the killing spree in motion. The problem was, we had no idea what we were searching for.
I made it through a traffic slowdown on I-43 as I traveled south but still arrived at work on time. Hopefully, that was the sign of a good day to come. I was about to climb the three flights of stairs as my morning workout when I saw Renz standing at the elevator. I decided to join him instead.
“I guess you don’t know any more than I do since you’re just getting here too.”
Renz stared at my bruised face. “Wow.”
I held up my hand. “I don’t need a third scolding. I’ve already gotten enough from Amber and Kate.”
“And rightfully so.”
I huffed and pointed at my nose. “This is actually your fault for calling me last night.”
“Or your fault for answering.”
“One could argue that point too.” I chuckled and pressed the button for the third floor. “Hopefully, Tommy and Fay got something from Paul Lawrence that’ll help.”
Renz shook his head as if in doubt. “Why would a bartender have any kind of altercation with the mayor, though? I’m sure security people were there as well, and they’d run interference if something took place between them.”
The elevator’s ding indicated that we’d arrived on the third floor. The steel box bounced slightly then stopped, and the doors parted. We made a quick detour at our office to drop off our jackets then headed down the hallway to see if everyone was there. I was excited to get our morning updates underway and to find out if Taft had heard of any new developments since she’d arrived. Maureen waved us in then sighed when she saw my face. I assured her I was fine.
“We’ll begin in ten minutes since we’re still waiting on Kyle to show up. I, for one, am excited to hear about Tommy’s conversation with Paul Lawrence,” she said.
It was my turn to make the coffee, and I had just enough time to brew a pot and set the carafe on the table before everyone filed into the room. We took our seats, Taft said none of the guys had been apprehended during the night, then she opened the meeting with a head tip at Tommy.
“Go ahead and tell us what you learned from Paul Lawrence. We’re all sitting on pins and needles.”
Tommy blew out a long breath. I took that to mean he didn’t have earth-shattering news to share, and I felt my shoulders slump.
“Well, I’ll admit I felt really bad for the guy. He was truly suffering from the loss of his twin brother, and I’m sure his focus wasn’t even on the questions we asked. He seemed annoyed that our focus was on Michael Kent instead of his brother’s murder.”
Fay spoke up. “But who could blame him? The FBI comes to talk to him and he probably thought we had news about the killer. Instead, we ask questions about a night he bartended at Silver Shores during a fundraiser when the mayor happened to be there. To top it off, that was five months ago. He looked at us like we were crazy.”
Taft nodded for Fay to continue. “And then what?”
Fay sighed. “And then not much. He said he barely remembered that night other than the fact that the mayor was there. Paul went on to say that the mayor gave a short speech about the fundraiser, schmoozed with people, and then planted his ass at the bar for several hours. He couldn’t recall anything out of the ordinary as far as the mayor was concerned. Paul said he had to cut people off throughout the night, as he always did, and the mayor was one of them. Paul couldn’t recall how many glasses of bourbon the mayor had, but he did remember the mayor being pissed when Paul eventually closed his tab. He said the fundraiser was over with anyway, and the resort was clearing out. He admitted that he should have cut off the mayor long before that, but since he was the guest of honor, he didn’t want to make waves.”
“Humph. That doesn’t sound any different than what most bartenders do when it’s necessary,” I said.
“So there wasn’t an altercation between them?” Taft asked.
Tommy took over. “It didn’t sound like anything that would attract attention and embarrass the mayor.”
Taft tapped the table. “Unfortunately, people can be at the same event and remember things differently. Somebody had to be angry enough with Paul Lawrence to kill his brother, and we know it isn’t the mayor who’s doing the killings since his own daughter was murdered.” Taft tipped her head at Tommy. “Get more names of people who were at that event. I want to hear other eyewitness accounts from people who were at the bar when the mayor was. I want to know just how drunk he was before Paul Lawrence cut him off and if there were heated words between them or possibly threats too.”