Page 84 of Death on Riddle Road
He chuckled slightly.The closest either of us had come to expressing amusement around the other in weeks.
“Emil has that effect on many people.Likely including his cousin in his last days.”
“Derrick?Why would he feel that way?”
“Emil tried to stop his release from prison to hospice.”
“He did?”My surprise skidded my voice up and turned a couple heads toward me.I lowered my voice to add, “Are you sure?”
“Yes.He was vehement in his opposition.”
“Do Beverly and Yale know?”
“Not that I’m aware of.He did it within county leadership circles they have not been part of since Derrick’s conviction.But I understand Dova was aware.”
Possibly through Dova’sconnections,if Berrie was right.
What neither of them said was it was, in essence,anti-political.
Having met Emil, I ruled out a refined sense of justice as a motive for his efforts to leave Derrick in prison for his final days, which just happened to pose less chance of their last name popping up in the news.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
At the sheriff’sdepartment desk, I was told to take a seat, while they let Teague know I was there.
It had felt a little strange driving past the turnoff for the Torrid Avenue dog park.The North Bend County Sheriff’s department was across a creek, a string of woods, then a mowed open area from those canine hallowed grounds.One end of the building’s length was devoted to the jail and the other to the sheriff’s department.
Deputy Hensen, coming from a door I thought connected to department parking and heading toward the hallway that led to meeting rooms, offices, a large bullpen area, and official interview rooms, was a third of the way across the large open waiting area before he slowed.
He sniffed loudly.
“Ah, Sheila Mackey,” he said, as if he hadn’t seen me — the only person here — the instant he walked in.
“Hi, Deputy Hensen.”
“Dinner for Teague?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Good.Now I know who to hit up for leftovers.”He meant the Chinese, not the salad.Nobody sniffed appreciatively at salad.
And then he didn’t walk away.
Almost as if he wanted to talk.
Who am I to deny the man that outlet?
“Saw that you were the first officer on the scene at the murder of Jaylynn Dorrio.”Not a conversation-opener that would work with most people, I admit.But appropriate for the situation.
His eyebrows rose.“Saw?”
“While reading the transcript from the trial of Derrick Dorrio.”
The eyebrows went up another notch.“You were interested before his death?”
“No.Since his murder.”
“And you got it that fast,” he mused — possibly with a tinge of admiration.
