Page 5
Story: Hide and Seek
He said slowly, “It’s just that it looked like the front-door lock was picked. Which seems bolder and more…more sophisticated than I’d expect from kids.”
“You noticed that, did you?” Millard seemed surprised. “You’re right. The little bastards did pick the lock. But like I said, kids are different now. They learn how to do all kinds of things from the internet.”
Ah yes. The evil internet. Andy considered the chief thoughtfully. Millard would be retirement age on any big-city police force, but here in Safehaven, he’d probably continue as chief until he dropped.
His doubt must have showed because Millard said, “The safe wasn’t touched. I think if we were dealing with pros, they’d have tried to get that safe open—not that there would be much in it.”
No. There was never much in that safe.
Millard was still making his case. “As far as what they might have been after, besides the money in the till, there won’t be any way of knowing that, knowing if anything’s missing, until Cutty gets home.Ifhe gets—” He broke off with a quick apologetic look at Andy.
It felt like a kick in the guts, but Andy tried not to show it. “Actually, on that topic, I was thinking—if you’re done processing the crime scene—maybe I could stay above the shop as planned. I could go ahead with the inventory and see if anything’s missing.”
Millard’s brows went skyward again. “You want to stay at the shop?”
“In Uncle C.’s apartment, yes.”
Millard frowned, chewing his soggy pastry, thinking it over.
“I still have my keys. Thatwasthe original plan. That I’d stay and help out for a couple of weeks. And I’d like to do something for Uncle C….” Andy was surprised when his voice died out. He was very tired, still shocked, and running out of ideas fast. He could not go home. That was one certainty. Staying with Clark and Fleur was a nonstarter. That left the apartment above Time in a Bottle or…a nearby motel?
Maybe the chief saw some of that in Andy’s expression because he finally shrugged. “I can’t see any reason why not. It’s not like there’s anything left to process. We dusted for prints, but who are we kidding? Even if they didn’t wear gloves, what’s an extra set of prints on top of the millions already plastered over every surface in that place?”
Surely there weren’t millions of fingerprints on the cash register?
Andy only said, “If Uncle C.’s attackers were kids, their prints probably aren’t on file anyway.”
Marcus had been a cop when he and Andy had first met, and Andy had heard more than he ever wanted to know about police work during the course of their relationship.
Millard flashed him another of those surprised looks. “True, true. Anyway, my print expert was ready to quit when she walked inside the shop last night. I’m guessing the buildinghasn’t been properly cleaned, let alone dusted, since the last summer you worked there.”
Andy managed a faint smile. “Probably not.”
“And Cutty wanted you to stay. It’s all he’s been talking about: you coming to visit.”
Andy’s throat tightened. “I only wish I’d been a day earlier.”
“No point thinking about that.” Millard was brisk. “If you could figure out what’s missing, well, at least that will help with the insurance.”
Andy nodded, burst out, “I don’t know why they had to beat him like that. He wasn’t any threat to them. Why didn’t they just run?”
Millard’s expression was bleak. “He shouldn’t have come downstairs. He should have phoned the station the minute he thought he heard something. But he always was a stubborn old coot. Even when he was a stubborn young coot.”
Andy let out a long, shaky breath and rose. “Yeah. That’s probably the truth. Thanks, Chief. You’ll keep me posted on the investigation?”
“Sure will, son. And you keep me posted on Cutty’s condition.”
As Andy started toward the door, Millard said, “Funny thing. The timing, I mean.”
“Why?”
“Quinn Rafferty’s back too.” The chief’s expression was odd. And no wonder.
Quinn Rafferty.
It had been so long since he’d heard Quinn’s name that it felt for a moment like Millard was speaking a foreign language.
“Quinn?” Andy repeated stupidly.
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