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GORDON’S JAW WENT SLACK at Gaubatz’s news. “Yvonne Budweitz is dead? You’re kidding. How? When?”
“Way too soon to know anything. Not in our jurisdiction, but I thought you’d want to know.”
“Appreciate it.”
As soon as Gaubatz left, Gordon called the front desk. “What do you have on a set of keys we were holding for a Mr. Budweitz?”
After a moment, the clerk came on the line. “Got it. Mr. Budweitz came for his keys at sixteen twenty-three on Sunday. Provided a driver’s license as ID, and the keys were returned to him. No other remarks noted. Lou was on the desk. Was there a problem?”
“No, not at all. I wanted to follow up, since I’d encountered him Friday evening. Thanks.”
Gordon replaced the receiver in the cradle, mapping a mental timeline of events. Could Bud have been involved in his wife’s death?
Before Gordon rode that thought train any further, Solomon trooped into the office and flopped into his usual chair, coffee in hand. “Morning, Chief.” He hit Gordon with a long, slow stare. “Something bothering you? I thought you’d look more relaxed. Didn’t your weekend go as planned?”
“My weekend was fine. I take it you haven’t heard the latest news.”
Solomon’s back straightened. His brow furrowed. “News? What did I miss?”
“You mean there’s something I know that you don’t?” Gordon smirked. Stood, went to his coffee maker and set a pot to brew, taking his damn time. Let Solomon stew for a change.
Solomon was as good at the waiting game as Gordon, apparently. He sipped his coffee, gazed around the room, looking everywhere but at Gordon.
“Forgot to check the breakroom,” Solomon said. “Angie send in anything special?”
“I wouldn’t know. I didn’t open the box when I dropped it off, but then, everything she donates is special.”
Solomon rested his palms on the arms of the chair, as if he was going to get up and leave, but then folded them atop the desk and puffed out a sigh. “All right, Chief. What’s the news?”
“How far into the loop were you on the inebriated customer from Finnegan’s who spent some quality time relaxing in our holding cell?”
“Budweitz. I saw Redstone’s report. Picked the guy up in the square. Sobered up, got a lift to Evergreen. Looked routine. Where’s the news?”
Gordon explained his encounter with Bud at Finnegan’s, the hostile encounter, the man’s anger with women, most notably his wife. “Turns out the Centennial cops found his wife, deceased, in their home not long ago.”
Solomon’s jaw dropped the way Gordon’s had. “Whoa. You think Budweitz did it?”
“No idea. Gaubatz told me a few minutes ago. Not in our jurisdiction, but we should notify the Centennial department, let them know we had a man furious with his wife here on Friday night.”
“You think that’s why he showed up at Finnegan’s drunk?” Solomon asked. “He’d killed his wife, whether intentionally or otherwise?”
“Everything’s speculation at this point,” Gordon said. “We don’t know when she died or how. Bud was definitely angry, but I didn’t catch a hint of guilt, or that he was shaken—which I think anyone who’s just killed someone would have to be.” He paused, thought a moment. “I’ll be the first to admit I wasn’t seeing anything but an inebriated man—”
“You don’t usually look at strangers to see if they’re giving off an I just killed my wife vibe.”
Gordon pondered the encounter. “Looking back, I don’t see it.”
“Maybe he was planning it. Maybe that woman’s remarks sent him over the edge.”
“We know where he was on Friday evening. After he was released from lockup, the car service dropped him off in Evergreen—”
Solomon interrupted. “Do we know that for sure? All we know is he got into the car, right?”
“True.”
“What do you say, I touch base with Centennial? Offer to give them our insights as to a potential suspect, his attitude and whereabouts.”
Gordon tried not to smile at the gleam in Solomon’s eyes. A puzzle to play with. “What’s your workload today?”
“My usual patrol routes. Unless Mrs. Volmer’s autopsy results turn it into a homicide case, and my talents are needed elsewhere.”
“Even if it does, it’s likely not going to be a Mapleton case. Mrs. Volmer died within city limits, but as I recall, none of the guests were from here. McKenna’s going to insist we hand it off.”
Solomon rose. “I’ll get in touch with Centennial and the ride service.”
“On your downtime,” Gordon said. “No overtime. The budget, remember?”
“Of course, Chief. I learned plenty about Chief Stuff while you were cruising the Caribbean.” Solomon headed out, and exchanged his usual banter with Laurie. A ritual he always performed after barging into Gordon’s office. Another ritual she enjoyed.
Gordon returned to his body cam research. Based on what the mayor had given him, McKenna was clueless—or choosing to ignore the reality of how much he’d be investing. Gordon added those figures to his notes, then set everything aside. He had two weeks, and his mind wasn’t focusing.
He wandered to the breakroom to see what Angie had provided. Chocolate chip cookies, and the box was almost empty. He felt guilty taking one, given Angie kept him well-supplied with all her offerings, so he went to the fruit bowl and chose an apple. Jost and Redstone strolled through the door, coffee mugs in hand. Their hesitation knotted Gordon’s stomach. Had he slipped backward in his efforts to lessen the gap between Chief and Staff?
“Come on in,” Gordon called out. He motioned to a table, then took a seat. “I have a couple of questions for you. Won’t take long.”
The officers filled their mugs and joined him. Both waited, their expressions hesitant.
“What do you think of body cameras?” Gordon asked.
The men exchanged quizzical glances, as if he’d asked a trick question. Gordon gave the same line he’d given McDermott, that he’d been asked to compile a report, again leaving the mayor’s name out of it.
Jost spoke first. “In Mapleton? To film us telling a guy to curb his dog?”
Redstone snorted. “Or the mail carrier delivering and picking up mail?”
Gordon chuckled. “I see Rafe’s report’s made the rounds.”
“We’ve all dealt with Ms. Fritz,” Jost said. “Good learning experience for the rookie.” He shifted his gaze to Redstone, who until Rafe’s recent arrival, had been the FNG.
Redstone shrugged. “Can’t see her calls requiring body cams. I think she just likes company.”
“Seriously, though,” Gordon continued. “If the directive came down saying we had to use body cams, would you consider it a positive or negative?”