Page 7 of Every Deadly Suspicion

“Mayor Milton will give a statement as soon as possible.”Hanna pushed through them into the station and then headed to her office, closing the door for a minute of quiet.

The PD didn’t have a dedicated press office. Thankfully, Mayor Evelyn Milton liked talking to the media. Dry Oaks had not had this much attention from the outside world for as long as Hanna could remember.

A knock sounded at the door, and Terry Holmes poked his head in. “Got a minute, Chief?”

“Yes, come on in.”

He entered and closed the door behind him. “Wow, it’s a circus out there. Must be a slow news day.” He handed her a folder. “Here’s everything from yesterday. The good news about the media coverage is I think things will move faster. The NTSB investigator saw some of the posted videos. He doesn’t think the plane’s path to the ground was indicative of engine problems with the plane.”

Hanna took the folder and opened it, skimming the contents. “He’s already got preliminary findings here.”

“Yeah. The fire was extinguished quickly, and all the wreckage was moved to a hangar at the airport. He had a lot to work with and didn’t find anything that showed mechanical malfunction.”

“So that leaves us with pilot error or pilot sickness.”

“Right.” Terry nodded. “And the coroner called. He’ll move the autopsy up as soon as possible.”

“You talked to the airfield personnel at Columbia. Did they see anything out of the ordinary?”

“It was a normal day. No visitors or unusual people at the field. Scott had a mug of coffee and planned a survey of some property he was considering buying. He did the usual precheck, and his takeoff was smooth. He was in the air for thirty minutes before he crashed.”

She closed the folder. “I wonder if he had medical issues he didn’t know about.”

“It’s possible.”

“Good work, Terry. We’ll both attend the autopsy when it’s scheduled.”

He nodded and left Hanna alone with her thoughts. She scrolled through social media to see what was trending. Videos of the crash were still getting clicks. To her dismay, Joe and his crimes were also trending, and in the top ten. If people searchedDry Oaksfor the crash video, they also found Joe Keyes.

Hanna should be used to it, though. Joe had been in jail as long as she’d been alive. It was part of her morbid history.

As tragic as Scott’s death was, so far it looked as if it had been a medical emergency. Hanna prayed it would be that simple and that news would trend away from Dry Oaks.

And her father’s sins of the past.

Two days later on Wednesday, thoughts ofsimplewere demolished by the autopsy. Scott’s crash was not a medical emergency: It was murder. The county coroner, sitting behind his desk across from Hanna and Terry, listed the probable cause of death as “poisoning by cyanide.”

“I can’t make it official until after I get the toxicology results back from the state lab,” he said. “But his stomach contents tested positive for cyanide. Most likely it was in his coffee. If you have a mug or carafe for me to test, I can be more definitive.”

“As far as I know, there was no mug or thermos with the wreckage,” Terry said.

“We’ll have to do another sweep of the crash site.” Hanna looked down at her notes. “Personnel at the airfield were clear Scott had a travel mug in his hand when he boarded the plane.”

“He hadn’t eaten. Coffee was all he had in his stomach,” the coroner summarized. “He had a seizure at some point. Then his heart stopped. The paramedics tried hard, but essentially Scott was dead when he hit the ground.” The coroner put down his paperwork and took off his glasses.

“Who stood to gain from killing Scott Buckley?” he asked, and Hanna had no answer. She did know that she would pull out all the stops to find out.

CHAPTER 4

BESIDES THE CORONER’S REPORT,Hanna also had a preliminary report from the NTSB. It confirmed what Terry had learned the day of the crash. All the plane’s mechanical parts were sound and working within normal limits.

It didn’t surprise Hanna. She’d read up on small planes and found that it was nearly impossible to sabotage one. Pilots, good pilots, did a preflight check of all their systems. Any sabotage was likely to be discovered there. By all accounts, Scott was a careful pilot. And if the engine did fail because of tampering, odds were good that a pilot could make an emergency landing. Scott could have landed in the field where he crashed—there had been room—but he never made the attempt.

The cyanide was the big surprise.

“Who had motive and opportunity to poison Scott’s coffee?” Investigator Holmes asked as he and Hanna left the coroner’s office.

“It’s a method of murder that indicates planning. And historically, poison is a woman’s weapon. At least that was what they taught us in the academy.” Hanna knew there were few women in Scott Buckley’s inner circle, other than his fiancée, Valerie Fox.She had not been in Dry Oaks the day of the crash. In fact, she rarely stayed in town. She lived on the coast in Corte Madera. Ms. Fox was wealthy and privileged—murder didn’t seem a likely fit.

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