Page 18 of Every Deadly Suspicion

Asa shrugged. “Cassidy was babysitting, she called 911, said he’s not moving.”

Hanna looked at Nathan. “County Search and Rescue?”

“Sorry, they are all up at the Crest Fire. I might be able to scare up some volunteers.”

“Take too long. I’ll take Big Red up there. It has climbing equipment and other emergency gear.” She nodded to Asa. “Bring it around?”

“You got it.” He left the room and Hanna went to the coat tree, where her gun belt hung when she worked at her desk.

Nathan grabbed her arm. “You be careful. No unnecessary risks, okay?”

Jared came to mind:“Risks are a part of life”was his philosophy. And Hanna agreed. She hadn’t run for chief of police to play it safe. But Nathan meant well.

“Don’t be a worrywart.” She squeezed his hand, and he released her arm.

His pale-blue eyes were warm, supportive, and for a second, Hanna wished the letter were a cruel joke and she could erase it from her memory.

“I’d go with you if I could, but I have to be in court.”

“I’ll text you as soon as I can.”

Hanna left the office, told Terry he would be the only cop in the station for a while, and rushed to Big Red. Once a search-and-rescue vehicle, the ancient Chevy dually had been with the PD for a decade. They got the hand-me-downs when the fire department upgraded. The beast was hard on gas, but it went anywhere and everywhere. The Dry Oaks PD ran on a shoestring budget, but it ran smoothly, and Hanna loved being a part of the organization.

Asa sat in the driver’s seat. Hanna jumped in the passenger side, and he accelerated before she’d closed her door. Even though she was glad the situation with Braden had taken the stupid letter off her mind, she prayed the boy was okay and they were overreacting, even as she doubted that could be the case. Hadn’t the Buckleys been dealt enough grief for one lifetime?

CHAPTER 9

NATHANSHARP WATCHEDthe red dually speed away. He’d driven to Dry Oaks for lunch with Hanna, and he still needed to eat. He grabbed a coffee and a bagel across the street from the station and climbed into his car to drive back to Sonora for court. Once there, he checked in with the prosecutor, then joined his partner, Manny Pacheco, on a bench outside the courtroom. Nathan had been the arresting officer on this case, not the primary investigator, so he could not be inside the courtroom until it was time for his testimony. Manny leaned his head back, resting his eyes.

As Nathan waited, he thought about Hanna’s predicament. Even though Nathan had not been raised in Dry Oaks, one couldn’t be in the town for any length of time without learning about Joseph Keyes, even all these years after his arrest and conviction, thanks to Marcus Marshall. Everyone in local law enforcement knew Marshall. He was an “I know my rights” and “I pay your salary” kind of guy.

Murders at Beecher’s Mine Cabinmight not have been a national bestseller, but it sure had sold locally. The story of Joe Keyes was the “blackest black eye a small town could get,” according to Marshall. He’d also self-published two other true crime tomes,one on the Zodiac Killer and one on the Green River Killer. As far as Nathan knew, neither of those sold as well as the story of the murders right here in Dry Oaks.

Marshall still laid out copies for purchase every week at the local farmer’s market. Nathan had never purchased a book, but he had leafed through one. Joe Keyes was clearly the villain in the book.

Dry Oaks now had a police department because of the murders. Sonora had been the only incorporated city in the county. Every other city relied on the county sheriff, including Dry Oaks. But after the murders, Everett Buckley and his father, Al, made it their mission for the small burg to develop and pay for its own PD. The residents went for a bond measure and DOPD was born about thirty-three years ago. It started with one chief and three sworn officers. The pay was not extravagant. Being a cop in Dry Oaks was really a labor of love.

And Hanna loved Dry Oaks.

She was the third elected chief. Now she had six officers, including one who doubled as an investigator, as well as one sergeant and three volunteers. They all did a great job, and Dry Oaks was a safe and quiet place to live.

He supposed every town had a bogeyman. Joe Keyes was certainly that for Dry Oaks. He’d confessed to his crimes and was put away a long time ago, and Nathan felt that justice had been served. He didn’t think the request for compassionate parole was out of line.

Of course, mysteries still surrounded the case, and Nathan wondered if Joe could, or would, try to clear those up. There was the matter of missing DEA Agent Brett Gilly. He’d been investigating Joe at the time. A few weeks before the murders at Beecher’s Mine cabin, a meth lab had exploded in the forest. Gilly’s last report indicated that he believed Joe was responsible for the methlab and its destruction. If Joe was responsible, it had never been proven. After the murders, Gilly himself disappeared.

The agent had not been heard from in thirty-five years. Also, while no concrete evidence existed to connect his disappearance to the murders, they were forever connected in time by Marshall’s book because Marshall talked a lot about Gilly and the meth lab destruction. The Feds investigated for many months after the murders and never found a trace of the DEA man. The issue still drove law enforcement crazy. Gilly’s case was cold, and every so often an agent would come into the county and ask around, trying to find a rock that had not been turned over.

The Carsons’ bodies were never found either. Beecher’s Mine cabin burned down after Joe threw acid at Chase and the other caustic chemicals in the cabin caught fire. There was no indication that the bodies burned in the fire. Marshall put forth a theory in his book that Joe “hacked their bodies into little pieces” to destroy evidence. Nathan had heard others speculate that Blake and Sophia ended up at the bottom of an abandoned mine shaft. There was no shortage of those in the area.

Why Chase was spared was a question that was never answered. Marshall wrote that after dousing Chase with acid, Joe probably thought that he was dead. And he fled without making sure.

And now corrections wanted to let Joe out. Nathan figured corrections was not that concerned about a sixty-year-old man with terminal cancer.

Nathan had heard about Hanna before he met her. In a profession that could sometimes be chauvinistic when it came to women, she garnered a lot of respect. Even old-school cops in Sonora talked about her in positive terms.

He got to know her personally because, as an investigator with the county sheriff’s department, Nathan had worked with DryOaks PD often. When Hanna was the PD’s only detective, they’d collaborated on a couple of cases together.

From what Nathan had seen, Hanna was nothing like her bitter mother. She didn’t hold grudges, and surprisingly for a cop, she always looked for the good in people. Even when, after all the years, a lot of Joe’s negative past had been thrown at Hanna when she ran to be chief. Nathan remembered the ads.“Don’t be deceived, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree...”Hanna took it all in stride.

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