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Chip stepped into the trailer and grimaced when he saw Gertrude. Then he looked at Sandra. “I thought I told you to wait in your car.”
“I was trying to stop her from entering and mucking up your crime scene.”
Chip smirked. “Nice work.”
“Sorry.” Sandra was embarrassed. “She’s stronger than she looks.”
Chip stepped aside. “Leave now. All three of you.”
“Hang on, Chip. We found something.” Sandra looked at Gertrude. “Show him.”
“Show him what? I didn’t find anything!”
Sandra rolled her eyes. “Gertrude has been touching everything, so you might want to fingerprint her. Anyway, she found a photocopy of a mug shot for a Donna Smith of Mount Green, Michigan—”
Chip held up his hand. “Are you about to tell me that Jazmyn Jecks’s real name is Donna Smith?”
“Yes,” Sandra said sheepishly.
“We know that.”
“How do you know that?” Gertrude cried.
“We’re the police.”
Slaughter stepped inside. The trailer suddenly felt too small, and Sandra stepped outside. Then she turned back toward Chip. “Do you think it’s connected? Do you think the Michigan crime has something to do with her death?”
“We have no reason to think that, but we’re not ruling anything out.” Chip hesitated. “Did you see anything else I should know about?”
Sandra shook her head. “He’s got her pictures everywhere. A lot of them look like he took them from afar. And he moved her clothes from his car to his bed.”
Chip nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, thank you. You can go home.”
Sandra turned to go down the steps.
Gertrude hurried after her. “Why are they so nice to you?”
Sandra shrugged. “I don’t know. Why wouldn’t they be?”
“Because the cops in my county are bullies. I think I should move to Franklin County.”
Oh no, please don’t.
“I thought you were moving to South Dakota,” Calvin said dryly.
“I am. But Franklin County is a lot closer.”
Slaughter called after them, “If it were up to me, you all would be in handcuffs right now.”
“There,” Gertrude said. “That’s more along the lines of what I’m accustomed to. What are you going to do now?”
“Do? I’m going home and going to bed. What are you going to do?”
Gertrude scrunched up her face. “I’m going to keep investigating.”
“I’m not sure what else there is to do tonight.”
“That’s because you’re not a gumshoe.”
Sandra nearly ran to her minivan. Though Gertrude didn’t chase after her, she still locked the doors. Part of her wanted to stay behind and see what else she could learn, but she was exhausted. And she was starting to feel a bit extraneous to this case. Chip didn’t seem to need her help after all. All she’d done was wander around and learn things that he’d already known.
“What do you think?” Bob asked when she’d gotten her van turned around and pointed toward home.
“I think I’m too tired to think.”
“I think you’re right. I think all the crimes are connected.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For thinking I’m right.”
“You need to ask Joyelle about this as soon as possible. I hope the police haven’t already asked her about it.”
“Asked her about the drunk driving conviction?”
“Yes.”
“What’s the hurry?”
“I want to gauge her reaction. See if she knew. And if she did, we can ask if any of her students knew.”
“I am certain she didn’t know. She would’ve mentioned it.”
“Please ask her anyway.”
“I will, but not tonight.”
“Fine.” He sounded disappointed. And then he was gone.
Sandra rolled down the window and turned the music up and still she was too tired to be driving safely. She rummaged around in her purse until she found some gum and popped a few pieces in her mouth. There, that was better. Good old sugar.
The more she thought about her theory, the more she thought she was right. So, who had come to Maine to exact their revenge on Donna Smith? And had they already left and gone back to Michigan? If so, she was never going to figure this out. This thought saddened her, so she chose not to believe it. She would operate on the premise that the murderer was still lurking around Franklin County.
