Page 35 of Breaking Rules

Jo shrugged, her expression skeptical. “Hard to say. She’s a politician, so lying comes with the territory.” She glanced back at the closed door. “But something about her story doesn’t sit right with me.”

Sam nodded, his thoughts racing. “Yeah, I got that feeling too. Why would Alex risk everything to snoop through her calendar? And why was she so reluctant to share that contact list?”

Jo sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t know, but I have a hunch it’s more than just protecting her donors’ privacy.”

They stepped out into the parking lot, the cool evening air a welcome respite from the tension inside.

“And is it a coincidence that Amelia took the day off?”

Jo glanced back at the building. “Good question.”

Jo opened the car door for Lucy, who hopped in eagerly.

“I bet you know, don’t you?” Jo said, scratching the dog behind the ears.

Lucy chuffed, her tail wagging.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “If only she could talk, right?” He pulled out his phone, his eyes scanning the screen. “Hey, Mick just texted. He’s got some news on the Feldman case.”

Jo’s eyebrows shot up, her interest piqued. “Oh yeah? What’s he got?”

“Not sure, but he’s stopping by my place in a few minutes.” Sam glanced at his watch. “It’s almost quitting time anyway. You want to join us?”

Jo hesitated for a moment, weighing her options. She had a pile of paperwork waiting for her at the office, but the prospect of a breakthrough about Feldman was too tempting to pass up.

“Sure, why not?” she said, clicking her seat belt into place. “I could use a break from staring at my computer screen.”

Sam grinned, starting the engine. “Great. Maybe Mick’s found something that will help us crack this case wide open.”

Sam’s home was a log cabin nestled in the heart of the woods, a sanctuary from the chaos of police work. As they pulled up, Jo spotted Mick waiting on the porch, his leather jacket gleaming in the fading light.

Inside, the cabin felt warm and inviting. A stone fireplace dominated the living room, flanked by worn leather couches. Rustic wooden beams stretched across the ceiling, and the walls were adorned with mounted fish that Sam and his grandfather had caught. Jo had spent many evenings here, unwinding after tough cases or celebrating victories. The place didn’t have too many feminine touches, but she really liked it.

Lucy bounded through the door, making a beeline for her water bowl in the corner. Sam headed to the kitchen, grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge.

“Make yourself at home,” he called over his shoulder, rummaging through the cabinets. He emerged with a bag of chips, a sheepish grin on his face.

“Not quite as fancy as what Bridget’s been serving up at your place,” he said, tearing open the bag. “But it’ll have to do.”

They settled in the living room, and Sam handed them each a beer and put the chips on the coffee table. “So what have you got, Mick?”

Mick leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “I talked to Feldman’s brother today. He’s convinced there’s no way Feldman killed himself.”

Jo frowned, her fingers tapping against her beer bottle. “What makes him so sure?”

“He said his brother was happy, never talked about killing himself, but apparently, Feldman had been acting nervous and scared even before the robbery,” Mick said, his voice low. “His brother said he was jumpy, always looking over his shoulder like he was expecting someone to come after him.”

Sam’s brow furrowed, his mind racing. “So you think Feldman knew something? Something that got him killed?”

Mick nodded, his expression grim. “That’s what it looks like. And whoever did it made it look like a suicide to cover their tracks.”

Jo leaned back, her eyes widening. “So either Hartman is incompetent, or he was covering up.”

Sam stood up, pacing the room. “Think about it. Feldman worked at the bank. He would have had access to all kinds of information about the robbery. Maybe he saw something he wasn’t supposed to, or maybe he was even involved somehow.”

Jo nodded, her mind whirling with possibilities. “And when the heat got too close, someone decided to shut him up permanently.”

Sam nodded. “But who?”

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