Page 5 of Devil's Hour
“I’m sorry to hear that, Mayor,” Royce said.
“As am I,” Chief Rigby added.
“Mayor, how is your paper delivered? To a newspaper box attached to your mailbox, on your front porch, or slid through a mail slot in your door?”
She chuckled a bit. “Our papers are launched toward our home from the street and usually fall midway between the sidewalk and the front porch. Sometimes it lands on the concrete walkway and other times it lands in the grass. On more than one occasion, they were destroyed by the lawn sprinklers before Skip had a chance to retrieve them.”
“Do you know the name of your newspaper delivery person?”
“Of course,” she said. “I write him a check for Christmas each year. His name is Dusty Donovan, and he’s been delivering our papers for decades.”
Royce filed the information away for later. “Does Mr. Goodwin always retrieve the paper in the morning?”
She smiled wryly. “I’m not a morning person, and to be honest, I’ve stopped reading the paper since I was elected mayor.”
Royce found that interesting. “Why?”
“I’m aware that I’m late delivering on certain campaign promises, but reading angry editorial posts isn’t the tone I wish to set for my day. People have no idea how hard it is to accomplish anything in today’s politics, myself included when I ran for office. It was not my intention to mislead anyone or sway votes by pandering to minority voters. I’ve simply learned my best intentions can only get me so far, especially when my opponents on the city council battle me on every single thing, even when it hurts the constituents they serve. So, I choose to avoid editorial pieces.” Her statement sounded more practiced than honest, but Rigby hadn’t called him in to judge the mayor’s efficacy in office.
“Have you received any correspondence from The Purists before now?” She shook her head. “What about something similar in tone? An email, phone call, or letter expressing disappointment?” Royce recalled the boxes upon boxes of hate mail The Putz had received in addition to the tens of thousands of emails.
Mayor Goodwin snorted. “Only every day, but nothing like the tone in this letter.”
Royce nodded. He wanted to ask if she disregarded those without reading them also but didn’t want to risk alienating her and took a different approach. “Do you save the correspondence and voicemail messages?”
“We do, Sergeant.” She turned toward her assistant, acknowledging him for the first time since Royce strode into the office. “Can you copy everything onto a flash drive for Sergeant Locke?”
“Of course. I’d be happy to do so,” he said. “Give me a few hours.” Then he pulled a business card from a leather portfolio and handed it to Royce. His smile was affable, but the look in his eyes was somber. Royce got a weird vibe from the pair but realized it could just be from the stress of the situation. Someone had just threatened his boss.
“Ma’am, I’d also like to speak to your husband. Mr. Goodwin might have seen something significant this morning without realizing it.”
“That won’t be necessary, Sergeant. I’ve already talked to Skip at length, and he claimed nothing unusual happened.”Claimed?Royce thought it was an odd word choice. Mayor Goodwin rose to her feet and gestured for Ryan to do the same. “I don’t have anything else to contribute, so I am leaving this in your capable hands and moving on with my day. Give me a call if you have any other questions.”
“Please sit down, Lynette,” Chief Rigby said kindly but firmly. “The Purists have just threatened you and our city. I cannot overlook that, and I would think you’d feel the same.”
She softly huffed and dropped back in the chair as did Ryan. “This is absolutely ridiculous. It’s just a silly letter with cutout letters glued onto copier paper. It’s only one step above construction paper and crayons. I can’t take it seriously, and I refuse to be intimidated.”
“How can Sergeant Locke reach Skip for a brief interview today?” Rigby asked, both her voice and expression unyielding.
The mayor rummaged around in her briefcase and pulled out one of Mr. Goodwin’s business cards, then set it on the desk. “He’s working from home today. I only ask that you call ahead and make an appointment with him since he might have several phone conferences scheduled for today. He’ll be willing to help however you like. Is there anything else?”
“Not at the moment, ma’am. Thank you,” Royce said.
“Call my office if you need to speak to me again. Ryan will arrange a meeting.”
Chief rose from her chair and walked them out of her office. Royce overheard her say “I’ll keep you posted” before returning to her office and closing the door to ensure privacy.
Alone again, Royce and Rigby stared at the letter.
“What do you think, Locke?”
“I think the mayor’s assessment of the situation is wrong.”
Chief nodded her agreement. “There’s no way in hell I’m ignoring this kind of threat because she doesn’t want closer scrutiny on her record. I want you to look into this, but keep it low-key for now. The last thing we need is for the press to get wind of this. Thank God Felix Franklin had already left before she arrived, or he’d be crawling up our asses.”
“Agreed, Chief.”
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”