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Adam handed Jinks a coffee. “Sorry it’s not Cognac. Looks like you could use it. I heard you solved your missing person case—so why the long face?”
She took the cup with a grateful smile. “Located the missing husband, all right. Got hit by a car outside Nashua the night he vanished. Mr. Hit-and-Run robbed our guy of his wallet with the two grand and all his ID. Our husband gets taken to the hospital as John Doe, where they discover he has head injuries and amnesia.”
“Why hadn’t he come to your attention sooner?”
Her smile dimmed. “Here’s where it gets ugly.”
“Uglier than a hit-and-run?”
“Oh yeah. Some other family believed he was their missing husband and father. Matched his description. All banged up like that, bandages and bruises everywhere, hard to tell.”
“Okaaaay. That doesn’t sound too ugly.”
“Wait for it. He was their missing husband and father. My family, the Baylors, wondered why he spent so much time up in Nashua. Now they know, unfortunately.”
“Let me guess—he had a double life.”
“Two houses, two marriages, two sets of kids.”
“Has he been reunited with your family?”
Jinks took a long, slow sip of the coffee. “Reunited, yes. But he doesn’t remember them. He doesn’t remember either family. The docs aren’t sure how long the amnesia will last. Or whether he’ll ever get his memory back.”
“Think he’s faking it to avoid the impending fireworks?”
“Could be. Either way, the Baylors are devastated.”
“I was going to congratulate you. But I guess it’s like winning the battle but losing the war.”
“Sucks, doesn’t it? Just goes to show there are few people you can trust in this world.” She peered at him over her cup. “I hear you had some fun while I was gone. You’re making a habit out of getting kidnapped without me.”
Adam grinned. “Now that you’re back, you can make it up to me. I took Stork out to the backcountry, and we have a name to attach to our bad guy.” Adam didn’t want to mention that he’d originally learned the guy’s identity from Mr. X. “Name’s Gabriel Karlstad. One of Forsythe’s cronies.” He handed her a photo he’d printed out from a newspaper database of the man after he’d won a hunting trophy.
“Where do we find this Karlstad? I’d like to give him a taste of his own medicine. Handcuff him, then tell him to talk, or I’ll shoot him in the balls.”
“That’s what I like about you, Jinks. You’re one classy dame.”
She saluted, and Adam continued, “He likes to hang out over at the Dragon’s Teeth Bar. Might be a bit early in the day, even on a weekend, but somebody there could have seen him.”
“What are we waiting for? At the very least, I can pick up hard cider. Ever tried an Irish Vermonter? Some cider, a little Jamesons, and you’re ready to make love to a post.”
Jinks grabbed her jacket and joined him in his car. Adam estimated it would take them ten minutes to get there, thanks to the Junction’s blissfully light traffic. What he hadn’t expected to see was Gabriel Karlstad walking easy-as-you-please out of the Tavern. And he was followed closely by none other than Mayor Lehmann, who pumped Karlstad’s hand.
Adam and Jinks were out of the car in a flash, Jinks with her gun drawn, and Adam with handcuffs at the ready. Karlstad’s face twisted into a scowl, but the mayor looked shocked. It was Lehmann who spoke first. “What the hell do you think you are doing, Dutton?”
“Gabriel Karlstad here is wanted for the kidnapping and assault of a police officer.”
Lehmann’s purplish-red face made him look like a moldy strawberry. He sputtered out, “There must be some mistake. I’ve had only the most honest dealings with this man.”
Adam doubted that seriously, but he bit his tongue. “This is the guy all right. I wouldn’t forget an ugly mug like that.” What he could see with the mask, that is. But the gold tooth was enough.
“This is harassment, pure and simple, Dutton. If you’re mistaken, I’ll have both your badges for this.”
“You do that, sir. And have a nice day,” Adam called out to him as they pushed Karlstad into the back of Adam’s car.
They carted their prisoner to a holding cell after he’d been booked and searched, and he stood behind the bars, glaring at them. “I won’t talk without my attorney present. And I want my rights read to me right now. On video,” he motioned toward the camera in the corner of the ceiling. Jinks rolled her eyes and obliged.
They left their prisoner alone while they went to fill in Chief Quinn, and then Jinks pulled Adam aside. “What’s up with that asshole of a mayor?”
Adam shrugged. “He doesn’t like me. Guess I don’t part my hair on the right side.”
“No, seriously. Apart from the whole Zelda thing which I know about. How deep is he in with this nutjob and Forsythe? They got some political ménage à trois going on?”
“Lehmann knows all about Forsythe and his ‘associates.’ But he needs Forsythe’s clout to get him elected as governor. When he saw us arrest Karlstad, he probably had voices chanting ‘bye-bye election’ in the back of his mind.”
“And the chief? Has he gone dark-side on us too? I’ll resign my commission and work as a greeter at Walmart if I find he’s dirty.”
“You’d make a great greeter. I can see it now. ‘Take this cart, or I’ll punch you in the jaw.’” Then Adam shook his head. “Quinn’s in a bind. I know it goes with the job, but he’s not used to being squeezed in a vise that’s this well-oiled.”
Adam waved adieu to Jinks and stopped by the lab on the way to his office. Spying Joe Brimm at his desk, he asked, “Got those prints yet?”
“The coffee cup prints? Got a pretty good set. Tried the state records and AFIS. No matches. DNA will take longer. Is that good news or bad?”
Adam pulled a decoder ring he’d bought from Harlan’s store out of his pocket and handed it over. “Good, I think.”
Joe’s eyes lighted up at the decoder ring. He said, “I owe you some maple fudge for this,” which made Adam laugh.
Adam called Beverly as soon as he got back to his office. “Great news, Beverly Laborde. We got Goldie heating up a bench in our cell as we speak. I’m betting it’s only a matter of time before he squeals on Forsythe. Then we can haul him in.”
Beverly didn’t answer right away. Then she said, “Sounds great. Good work.”
“I can tell you’re enthused about this. Please contain your excitement.”
She sighed. “It’s just that I won’t believe it until it’s over, you know? I’ve had so many disappointments before. Things don’t often work out like I think they should.”
“We’ve got Goldie, and he’s not going anywhere. That was part of the plan, remember?”
“Harlan would agree with you, I’m sure. He was a big help today. If only he could help me find that statue, I’d nominate him for a Medal of Honor.”
“Still worrying about that statue after all of this?”
“With my luck, it’s likely long gone. Or the whole puzzle thing was an elaborate hoax—as if there are any monuments in this area. Harlan thinks we’re aiming too high. He says monuments aren’t always big. Sometimes, they’re rather small.”
“Harlan, the sage. Glad he was with you today. Did you have any luck with the murdered Forsythe’s widow?”
“No proof. Lots of motive. Father and son hated each other, argued over everything. Yet the elder’s will leaves three-quarters of his estate to his son. Reggie keeps his stepmother on a tight leash and will be glad to be done with her. I suspect Mairi Forsythe knows about her husband and stepson’s dealings, too, but didn’t open up to us that far.”
“Good to know. And to keep in mind for a court trial when she can be put under oath.”
“You think it will get to that point? To a trial?”
“I’m betting my job on it.”
“I wouldn’t want you to lose your job, Adam. I know you love it.”
Thinking back to Jinks’ comment about being a greeter, Adam added, “I could always work security at the resort. Speaking of which, want to grab some dinner?”
“Maybe tomorrow. I’ve got a monster headache.”
“That’s the first time I’ve ever gotten the ‘not tonight, dear, I have a headache’ routine about dinner.” He said it jokingly, but he was a little hurt. And concerned. “Get a good night’s rest then. And hopefully, I’ll be giving you a call soon with news we’ve arrested Reggie Forsythe.”
After he hung up with her, Adam leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head. Was the stress getting to Beverly? Or was she only tired? She was strong, but everyone had a breaking point. He shouldn’t have involved her so much. Or involved her at all. But then again, she’d started the whole thing—and trying to stop Beverly Laborde from whatever she was after was like trying to tame an earthquake.
Tomorrow she’d be back to normal. Adam rubbed his knee, where it had rested on a nail on the boards in the cabin when Goldie had the gun on him. He ignored the pain in his lower back from being bumped around in Goldie’s trunk. Tomorrow, after the worst of this case was over, maybe Adam would feel better too. Then why did he get the oddest feeling that the other shoe was about to drop?