Above them, Major watched with unblinking eyes from atop the filing cabinet.
“What did Alex do that made someone want him dead?” Kevin glanced at Major and broke off a piece of his donut. He walked cautiously to the cabinet and offered the piece to Major. “Do cats like donuts?”
Major hissed and swatted at the morsel dismissively. It arced through the air and landed on the floor. Lucy gobbled it up. She chuffed at Major as if they had planned it.
“Guess not,” Kevin muttered.
Sam shifted his gaze from Major’s high perch to his team, each member locked into the rhythm of the investigation. “We need to pin down where Alex went into the water. That’s our primary crime scene.”
Kevin, his face lit by the screen’s glow, looked up. “Currents could have carried him from anywhere. We need to trace it back.”
Reese perked up, a spark in her eyes. “I know someone from the academy who’s an expert in currents and hydrology. She could probably give us an idea about where to start looking based on where Alex ended up.”
“Do it,” Sam said, his voice steady and commanding. “Get her on it as soon as possible.”
Jo stood, brushing crumbs off her jacket. “We also need to find out who Alex was drinking with at the Moose.”
“There was a camera over the front door,” Sam said, remembering the placement from their visit. “Give Judy Glover a call and see if she’ll send us the tapes.”
Jo made a face, a slight twist of her lips betraying her thoughts about the owner of the bar. “Judy’s not exactly a friend of the force, but I’ll see what I can do.”
Kevin leaned back in his chair. “We need to dig into Alex’s finances too. Was he spending more than usual? Did he give anyone a large sum of money?”
Wyatt tapped away at his keyboard. “I’ll look into that. If he was throwing around cash, that might have put a target on his back.”
Sam nodded at Wyatt. “Keep me updated on what you find.”
“I thought of another thing,” Wyatt said. “We’ve checked Alex’s cell phone record, but what about his phone at campaign headquarters? They have landlines there that go through a central switchboard.”
Sam frowned. He hadn’t even thought of that. “That’s a good idea. Can you look into it?”
“I’m on it.” Wyatt’s fingers danced across the keys.
“I’ll talk to Marnie about the argument with Alex,” Sam said, thinking about Marnie Wilson’s calculated demeanor.
“Why wouldn’t she mention something like that?” Reese wondered aloud, frowning.
Sam pursed his lips, weighing the possible reasons. “She might not want to tarnish Alex’s reputation. Or maybe?—”
“She’s hiding something,” Kevin interjected, leaning forward. His chair creaked beneath his shifting weight.
Reese swiveled her head between them. “You think she had something to do with it?”
Before anyone could respond, the squad room door swung open. All eyes snapped toward the sound, conversation halted.
Reese hopped off her chair. “Can I help you?”
A gruff male voice answered. “Detective Dominic Hartman. I heard you folks have new evidence on an old case I worked.”
Sam’s brow furrowed as Reese ushered the man inside. Hartman was broad-shouldered, his face creased from years on the force.
“This is Detective Hartman,” Reese said, introducing him. “He’s here about an old case he worked.”
Sam rose from his desk, extending his hand. “Chief Sam Mason. What case are you referring to?”
Hartman’s grip was firm as they shook. “The helicopter bank job. Heard some of the stolen cash resurfaced.”
A hush fell over the room. Sam studied the older man, unable to read his expression. Harry thought Hartman had done a shoddy job investigating the case in the first place, so why would he care now? The silence lingered as Sam contemplated Hartman’s motives. Was the detective’s sudden interest an attempt to obscure his mishandling of the original investigation? Sam didn’t want to share too much information with Hartman but thought he might have valuable insights into the case.