Bud Poole got on the phone after the woman from Jacksonville left.
He just wasn’t sure if he should call his lawyer first—or the police!
He chose the police.
It had been a strange conversation right from the start. Showing him those photos— Steadman and that other guy. Hofer. And how she wasn’t even a detective, just some employee at the sheriff’s office down there. No badge, only an employee ID.
Even if he had gotten a little carried away with all the attention about Henry Steadman … he knew it had shaken him up, thrown him off his game.
And then that other guy, the one who was milling around the aisles. He and the woman had come in together. He remembered how their eyes clearly ran to each other’s after he looked at that photo. There was something between them. He saw it. And then the guy looked up and Bud got a good look at his face.
Henry Steadman.
When they left, Bud went to the door and watched them climb into the same car … A white Prius.
This was the biggest news Mount Holly had seen since snow.
The lawyer, he could come later.
He punched in the number, and when the duty officer answered, “Mount Holly Police,” Bud asked for Lieutenant Pete Toms. Shit, he could’ve asked for practically anyone there—he’d sold them all a weapon or two over the years.
“This is Lieutenant Toms.”
“Pete …” Bud said. “Bud Poole. Over at Gun World … You’re not going to believe who I just saw! That guy from Jacksonville. Steadman. Who’s wanted on those murders?”
“Bud, you seem to be seeing him everywhere,” Pete replied with some levity.
“I know. I know. But this is different! He just drove away in a white Prius. With Florida plates. He’s with a woman. This is for real, Pete,” he said, almost huffing on the words. “They just left my store!”