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ALEX WAS SEATED AT one of the tables next to the bar at Billy’s Place. She had papers spread out in front of her and her laptop opened in the middle of it all.
I gave Billy a nod as I walked past the bar and took a seat across from Alex. “I met with Marie Connor.”
“Connor?”
“Andy Meredith’s widow. She’s remarried.”
Billy walked up behind me and sat in one of the other chairs between me and Alex. “Any news?”
I nodded. “I was just telling Alex. I met with Andy Meredith’s wife. She said John and her late husband were friends in high school...played baseball together.”
“Is that it?” Alex said.
Billy said, “Tell me again...who’s Andy Meredith?”
“He’s the sergeant who allegedly forced Paul Krueger into retirement.”
“And Paul’s the one who investigated Theresa Thompson’s death?”
“He did. But barely. He was never allowed to investigate anything beyond the first night. And was off the force a week later. She said John showed up at their door in the middle of the night, and asked Andy for his help.”
Alex leaned forward toward me. “The night of Theresa’s death?”
“That’s right. Sergeant Meredith left, took his wife’s car instead of the cruiser he had parked out front. Comes back a little over an hour later and goes right to bed like nothing happened. Didn’t tell his wife a thing. Next morning, Marie turns on the news and finds out Theresa Thompson had been found dead in the early morning by her husband.”
“John Thompson?” Billy said.
I nodded. “Andy Meredith helped John cover it up.”
“Did he kill her?” Alex said.
I hesitated a moment while I processed some thoughts in my head. “Marie said she knows for a fact that John didn’t do it.”
“Then what did her husband cover up?”
“Well, we know there was a cover up. We just don’t know, yet...exactly what happened.”
Alex leaned forward and started typing on the keyboard on her laptop. With her eyes still down on the screen, she said, “I spoke to Mike about a half hour ago. He said he can’t seem to come up with anything or anyone else, and that Paul Krueger’s early retirement was set in motion and processed by Andy Meredith.”
“Did he say anything else about the officer who’d been hospitalized with the rash?”
Alex looked up from the screen. “Not just a rash. His whole body was covered in blisters...had respiratory issues because it somehow got into his lungs.”
Billy said, “Wait, what rash? From what?”
Alex nodded. “Poison sumac. Rookie cop had no idea he was highly allergic.”
I thought for a moment. “What’s the rash look like?”
Alex shrugged, “Poison sumac?” She looked at her screen and typed into her laptop, then turned it toward me.
Billy said, “Can someone tell me what you’re talking about”
Alex looked up at Billy. “One of the officers on the scene at the park—where John Thompson was killed—reached into the shrubs to retrieve John’s helmet. Kid breaks out a couple of hours later, ends up having a rare allergic reaction to what turned out to be poison sumac.”
Billy scratched his arm. “Makes me itch just thinking about it. But I had no idea it was that bad. I used to get poison ivy when I was a kid, but it doesn’t bother me anymore.”
I looked over at Alex. “And what about the kid at the record store? They get anything else from him?”
“Like I told you on the phone, he never saw who shot him. It happened so fast.”
“So he doesn’t think Nate could’ve been involved?”
“Wait,” Billy said. “You think Nate could’ve shot the kid at the record store?”
I said, “He might’ve set it all up, make it look like he was abducted. But it’s just a theory we’re tossing around.”
“Yeah?” Billy said.
Alex said, “And the kid—the one who got shot—thinks he saw a white pickup out back earlier in the day, but can’t confirm.”
“The white pickup truck...that’s the one that almost killed the two of you?”
I looked over at Billy. “There’s a chance he’s a friend of Nate’s.”
Billy stared back at me but didn’t say a word.
Alex turned the laptop toward me. “Take a look at this.”
I pulled the laptop closer and leaned forward, looking at a photo Alex had pulled up on the screen. “Is that...”
She nodded. “Same graduating class. Dated for three years. I spoke with the school secretary...an older woman. She’d been there for the past thirty years. She remembers them both.”
“Who?” Billy said, still trying to keep up with the long threads we were trying to tie together.
“Ron Phillips. He’s the driver of the F-250.”
“The woman I spoke with said he was in-and-out of trouble as a kid. Never understood what she saw in him.”
“What who saw in him?” Billy said.
I took out my phone and showed Billy a picture of John and Michelle Thompson together. I turned the laptop toward him so he could see the picture on the screen.
“See the young girl in the photo on Alex’s computer?”
Billy squinted, then nodded. “Pretty girl.”
“Now look at the picture of Michelle Thompson.”
Billy turned toward my phone and slipped on his glasses so he could see. “That’s her? Michelle and this guy Ronnie? They’re...”
“High school sweethearts,” I said.