Wednesday, June 3rd. Morning
Hopkins pulled
to the side of the road in front of the yellow cape. He blocked most of the lane, but he didn’t care. Two cars had already taken up the gravel driveway, and he was happy to see that Blake’s rental was one of them.
Hopkins walked onto the porch and touched the doorbell button. It didn’t move. Covered in a thick coat of paint, it probably hadn’t been functional in a long time.
He drew back the storm door and rapped on the inner one.
Christa answered. Wearing a pair of white pajamas, she pawed at her hair in a perfunctory attempt at making herself presentable.
“Good morning,” Hopkins said. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, not at all,” Christa said. “What’s happened?”
Christa was expecting news. He had news, but not the kind that Christa was hoping for. Nothing about Lucy.
“Nothing yet,” Hopkins said, “I just stopped in to speak with Blake.”
“Oh, he’s not here,” Christa said. “Do you want to come in? Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“No, thank you. Do you know where he went? His car’s here.”
“I don’t know,” Christa said. “When I woke up, his door was open, and he was already gone. Maybe he went into town
for breakfast or something. I’m sure he’ll be back soon. You sure you don’t want to come in and wait?”
“No, I really can’t stay. Can you just pass a message to him?”
Hopkins didn’t want to say too much. One of the reasons he had come was to let Blake know Chief was located in Bristol. That he and his wife had been visiting their daughter there and had been for two days.
But he didn’t want to tell Christa as much. The fact that he had even considered the Chief a suspect at all was somewhat embarrassing, in retrospect.
“Just tell him the person we were looking for has been found,” he said, “and that it wasn’t what we thought.”
“Chief?” Christa asked.
Of course, he told her.
“Sorry, didn’t realize you knew about that. Yes, Chief.”
“But the boat? The outhaul?” Christa asked. “And Blake said he saw him in Newport.”
“I’m not sure who he saw in Newport, but it wasn’t Chief. He’s been away visiting his daughter. We confirmed it with his wife, his daughter, his son-in-law, even the neighbors. As far as the outhaul goes, it’s registered to him, but he hasn’t had a boat on it for the past two years. The harbor master confirmed that as well.”
Christa sighed. The corners of her mouth drew up in the beginnings of a smile. “That makes so much more sense. I’ve gotta tell Gwyn.”
“Tell Gwyn,” Hopkins said. “But if you could please keep all of this to yourselves. I don’t want the local rumor mill getting hold of it.”
Christa’s half-smile expanded into a full-blown grin. “Chief is
the rumor mill.”
Hopkins laughed. How right she was. They had put out bulletins. Broken in his front door. Tracked him down to his
daughter’s house. He was going to have a story to tell. A story about the inept Tom Hopkins. And it would most certainly be told to anyone and everyone within earshot, for all of Chief’s remaining days.
“Thanks,” Hopkins said. “I’ll take a lap around the area to see if I can catch up with him. Did you happen to notice if he left his phone here?”
“I didn’t, but I can look. Why?”
“He wasn’t picking up, that’s all.” Hopkins said. “That’s okay. Just have him call me when he gets back. I need his help with something.”
“I will,” Christa said.
Hopkins let go of the storm door. Christa withdrew into the house, leaving the inner door open. He headed back to his car.
It was bad timing for Blake to be unreachable at that critical moment. Not because they had located Chief, but because they had located Doctor Grenier.
Unlike his partner Doctor Walton, Grenier was considerably less cooperative. Nonetheless, he was currently being transported to Jamestown by Newport PD.
Hopkins was hoping to bring Blake in on the interview, hoping he would recognize the man. But if he couldn’t find Blake in the next twenty or thirty minutes, he’d have to move forward without him.
This was Hopkins’ last chance to crack the case. One day before the hearing that would decide his fate, he was about to go head-to-head with the potential killer in a battle of wits and will.
More than any other time in his life, he hoped he didn’t screw it up.