I had never met Sheriff Moore before, and he looked nothing like I’d pictured him. Maybe I’d come to expect small town sheriffs to look like Officer Wimbley, the out of shape, befuddled deputy that had patrolled Cedar Hollow throughout my childhood. At any rate, Sheriff Moore looked anything but out of shape or befuddled.
The man was huge, well over six feet, and clearly a fan of the gym. His biceps strained at the hems in the sleeves of his uniform and the buttons of his shirt were clearly stressed against the bulk of his chest. His hair was buzzed short in a flattop, his face square. Even his jaw muscles were pronounced. As Kay directed him to our table, we slid our chairs closer together to give him more room. Vaguely, I wondered if his thigh muscles would fit under the table.
“Nice,” John murmured, “very nice.” I punched him on the leg while Michael stifled a chuckle beside me. “Behave, John. We have work to do.” I shot him a warning glare.
Sheriff Moore crossed the room in three strides and pulled out a chair. “Kay says you folks wanted to see me. What can I do for you?”
His voice was deep and pleasant, also not what I’d expected, and his eyes were a piercing blue. I’d pegged him as a backwards sort, someone who blamed fires on little boys with an autistic disorder. Someone who couldn’t be bothered with conducting a thorough investigation into the frightening incidents at a retreat for children with disabilities. I found his appearance at odds with my preconceived ideas, but appearances could be deceiving.
I held out my hand. “Sheriff Moore, I’m Jessica McIntosh.”
His hand engulfed mine. “Pleased to meet you, Ms. McIntosh. How can I help you?”
I was a little surprised he didn’t react to my name, but I continued. “I’m the owner of the mountain the Platte Lodge for Children is housed on. You’re investigating the fire that occurred there.”
Sheriff Moore remained expressionless. “And?” he prompted.
I was taken aback by his low keyed response. “And I’d like to know what progress you’ve made. Nora tells me you’ve pretty much written Virgil Young off as a suspect. I understand he has alibis for the day the office was trashed and the day the fire was set, but have you checked his alibi for the day the horses were let go? Or the day the chemicals were spilled? I’m assuming you’ve at least checked for fingerprints in all those places. He’s a very angry man, Sheriff. Isn’t it possible he had an accomplice?”
Sheriff Moore regarded me evenly. “Ms. McIntosh, with all due respect, I’m not at liberty to discuss the specifics with you. I’m sure you understand. We’re in the middle of an investigation. Why don’t you just tell me your concerns.” His face remained impassive, his voice pleasant.
I felt my anger rise. “My concern is that all these things have happened in a matter of a few weeks. You’ve had ample time to check for fingerprints and follow up on leads, but you don’t seem to have done those things. How dare you try to pin these things on an eleven year old boy with autism? Nora told me what you said. You should be ashamed.” Beside me, Michael squeezed my leg, meaning, I’m sure, to calm me down, but I was on a roll.
“Is it because it’s a program for children with disabilities? Is that why it’s apparently been moved to the bottom of your list of things to do? What about the note that was addressed to me? Have you had it tested for fingerprints yet?” I fired the questions off without waiting for answers.
The man was immovable. “Ms. McIntosh, I can assure you nothing’s been moved to the bottom of my list of things to do. We take all of our cases very seriously. I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you. Now, if you’ll excuse me....”
“Wait a minute! Can you at least do a drive by tomorrow afternoon around one o’clock?” I asked. “Mr. Young is coming to view the books. He feels he was shortchanged in his pay. I don’t know what you know about him, or what you’ve discovered in your investigation, but don’t you think it might be a good idea for you to at least be in the area when he comes tomorrow?”
“I’ll make sure to do that,” he said. “Now, I really need to go.”
I couldn’t believe it, but the man actually stood and tossed a business card on the table before walking away. He nodded at Kay and exited the diner, backing away in his patrol car and heading out of town while the three of us stared after him.