THIRTY-ONE

Abbie was still processing what she’d seen on the CD from the night before when she arrived at the parking lot at Weber High. She was a little early. She entered through one of the back entrances near the gym and walked through the hallway where the cheerleader and varsity athletes had their lockers. She heard rustling around the corner. Abbie stopped and walked quietly to the corner. She looked around to see the janitor placing an iPad in a large duffel bag.

“Stop!” Abbie yelled.

In a flash, the janitor bolted. Abbie dashed after him. He was no match for either her speed or her strength. As she was handcuffing him, the security guard walked in through the front entrance. His eyes lit up when he saw them.

“I think if you check that duffel,” Abbie said, “you’ll find that we’ve found our thief.”

The security guard rifled through the bag, then set it down and puffed up his chest. “As I suspected.”

The security guard escorted the janitor to his own closetlike office. The janitor sat down on a plastic chair with his hands cuffed behind him. They waited for one of Abbie’s fellow Pleasant View police officers to arrive.

When one finally did, Abbie was happy to hand over responsibility.

“I’ll give you my statement at the station,” she promised her fellow cop. “Mr. Johnson here, the senior security officer of Weber High, has been invaluable to this investigation. He should be able to answer any questions you have.”

The security guard beamed. Abbie’s fellow officer shot her a look of despair. She smiled back and walked out into the sunshine, grateful for small blessings.

Abbie would now be able to devote herself full-time to the investigation into the murders of Heber Bentsen and Bryce Strong.

It was time to tell Clarke everything.

*   *   *

The foothills were still covered in early-morning shadow when Abbie pulled into the police station. Henderson’s parking spot was empty. Clarke’s was not. Abbie took in the familiar quiet at her place of employment. Within the hour, Hazel would bustle through the door. The other full-time officers would follow. At some point, there would be a call, but it wouldn’t be anything serious. Abbie poured herself some very bad coffee from the break room. She smiled. It was good to be back.

With her coffee in hand, Abbie stopped by Clarke’s desk and asked him to meet her in her office as soon as he could, which turned out to be right then. They walked together. Abbie shut the door behind them. This was going to be a long conversation and not an easy one.

Clarke listened as Abbie told him about Colonia Juárez, Brittany Thompson, and Elder Bragg. Then she slipped the CD into the computer. They watched until the screen faded to black.

Clarke sat stone-faced. His chest rose and fell several times before he spoke. “There’s no evidence directly implicating anyone in Heber’s murder.”

“No, there isn’t,” Abbie agreed. She’d been on her own with all these weird related-yet-unrelated facts for too long. Had she made connections that weren’t there? It would be good to have Clarke’s perspective.

“We can’t ignore the strong motive, though,” Clarke said. “There are people who didn’t want to risk President Bentsen going public.”

Abbie exhaled. She felt just a little bit lighter than she had moments before. She wasn’t crazy.

“How did you get this CD?” Clarke asked.

Abbie explained.

“You know, our DA is not going to like that.” That was true, but then Clarke added, “It was an open garage, though.” That was true, too. Right then, though, Abbie cared more about figuring out who had killed Heber and Bryce than worrying about the intricacies of the rules of evidence.

“There’s no way Henderson is going to let us question the Apostles about their whereabouts,” she said.

Clarke shook his head. “No, he’s not going to admit how damning that meeting is. I think, though, we can make some discreet inquiries. I can probably rule out most of the Apostles pretty quickly without raising any eyebrows.”

“That would be great,” Abbie said.

“You know,” Clarke added, “I don’t like this Caleb Monson.”

Even though Abbie felt the same way, she reminded herself and Clarke, “We need to keep an open mind.”

“Of course,” Clarke agreed. “Oh, by the way, Henderson won’t be in today because of some medical issues. Technically I’m in charge of this investigation. I’m going to suggest moving forward without bothering the chief during his convalescence.”

“Agreed.” Abbie felt the muscles in her shoulders relax.

Clarke pushed his shirtsleeves up past his elbows. “Let’s get to work.”

He set about checking calendars and calling personal assistants to determine alibis for as many of the Apostles as he could without alerting anyone to what he was doing. Clarke was charming and knew exactly what to say to get information without giving any in return.

Abbie left him to it. She went to talk to the one person who knew every single one of the Brethren at that meeting.