Page 31 of Tessa's Trust

“I know.” He was a decent guy, but he also could be found drunk in an alley. I knew many people in town had rescued him from freezing to death through the years. “Was he originally from Silverville?”

“Spokane. He grew up there and actually played football for Shadle High. He seemed to have wandered the country and was unhomed a few times before finally ending up here thirty years ago and taking odd jobs,” the sheriff said. “Never married. Didn’t have kids. Only family members were his parents, who died years ago.”

That was sad. I knew of several people in town who had tried to help Lenny throughout the years, but he seemed so lost he didn’t want help—or maybe it was the alcohol. I never knew. “He did spend a lot of time in your jail cell, didn’t he?” I murmured.

The sheriff nodded. “Yeah, especially on cold nights. I’d make sure to go and find him and hold him for the night so he could stay warm. The church took him in a lot, as well. He was a decent guy. He just drank too much. Didn’t cause any problems. Worked when he could. But, you know, the alcohol ruled him.”

“I know,” I said. “Did he have any ties to Sadie?”

“Rumor had it Lenny and Sadie might’ve dated in high school and flirted throughout the decades,” the sheriff said. “I have no idea why he was found dead in her basement, except maybe he snuck in there for a night or two. He often broke into local buildings for shelter.”

“But who would kill him, and why?” I asked.

“No clue. So far, I got nothing,” the sheriff said. “I think that clause in your contract is silly, and now that you’ve questioned me about it, I’d say you fulfilled the requirements.”

Yet, I hadn’t. I’d promised to really try, and I wasn’t done yet. Plus, and I couldn’t help it, I was curious. Why had Lenny been in Sadie’s basement? More importantly, why would anybody want him dead?

“Don’t you think the fact that two dead bodies were found in the same spot is more than just a coincidence?” I asked.

“Not really,” the sheriff said. “Like I said, Lenny was known to break into buildings all over town if he wanted to stay warm, and anybody could have followed him in and killed him. As for Rudy Brando, somebody’s making a statement to you, though I haven’t figured out what or why. Or perhaps they’re making a statement to Sadie. That whole murder could have everything to do with her and nothing to do with you or even the building,” he mused.

I bit my lip. “Were there any other similarities between Lenny’s and Rudy’s murders, besides them both being stabbed?”

“No. Different knives, different placement of the bodies. And Lenny was actually stabbed several times—in the throat, slashed in the thigh, and elsewhere. It was a bloody mess. We never found the murder weapon, but the crime lab identified the cuts as being from a hunting knife with a serrated edge. Much different than those other two knives.”

Oh, I hadn’t known that fact. “You’ve kept that a secret.”

“I don’t tell everybody everything,” the sheriff said. “But I don’t mind telling you.”

It warmed me that he trusted me.

“Especially since you’re now off this case,” he uttered sternly.

It reminded me of when he’d coached my fourth-grade softball team, and we’d been goofing off instead of practicing. While the sheriff was a softie, he was also the sheriff when he had to issue an order.

“I appreciate your help,” I said. “Would you please let me know as soon as you find Sadie? I’m worried about her.”

“Of course, I will.”

Deputy McCracken poked his head in the door. He was about five years younger than me, with thick blond hair and odd green eyes. He’d always seemed like a nice guy, and our families were well acquainted, but I didn’t know him well.

“Hey, there’s a lady here to see you,” he said.

“Seems to be my day for ladies.” The sheriff unobtrusively took the plate of croissants and pulled it toward himself so nobody else could reach it. “Send her in. Tessa, drive carefully today. There’s another storm coming.”

“Thanks,” I said, standing and recognizing an invitation to leave when I heard one.

A woman walked inside, and I didn’t recognize her.

“Hello, Sheriff,” she said, her gaze cutting to me before she looked back at him. She had to be in her late thirties, with frosted blond hair and sharp brown eyes. Her blue outfit was high-end, and her jewelry sparkled with diamonds.

“How can I help you?” The sheriff rose to his feet.

“Well, for starters, you can tell me who killed my husband. I’m Marilyn Brando. Rudy and I have been married for a year and a half.” She tugged a piece of paper out of her purse. “He was in town to take possession of a building we purchased. Here’s a copy of the quitclaim deed that he sent to me right before he was murdered.”

She looked me square in the eye. “I’m the new owner of the building, and you’re on notice to remove your belongings immediately.”

Chapter 12

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