311 Pelican Court - Debbie Macomber [86]
Damn it all, this was exactly the atmosphere Roy loved. He wanted to close his eyes, breathe in the scent of stale coffee, the sounds of cops at work. There was an excitement here. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to play an active role in law enforcement and he missed it. Except for the paperwork, he reminded himself. When he was on the force, he’d spent more than half his time filling out forms.
“How ya doing, Roy?” a uniformed woman asked when he approached.
Roy didn’t recognize her. “I’m good. I’m here to see Sheriff Davis.”
She smiled. “I’ll tell him you’re here.”
“I’d appreciate it.” Roy had phoned soon after the first of the year, after he’d done everything he could on his end of the investigation. Today he’d give the sheriff what he’d learned. He liked and trusted Troy Davis; the man was no one’s fool. Roy was walking a tightrope, though. Officially he’d been employed by Grace Sherman and more recently Bob Beldon. His first priority was to look after his clients’ interests. If a crime had been committed, his job was to do everything he could to keep his clients clear of the law.
The female deputy returned. “Sheriff Davis will see you now.”
Roy followed her to the small office. Davis was sitting behind his desk, frowning at something on his computer screen, when Roy entered the room. Troy stood, and the two men exchanged handshakes. Roy took a seat and so did the sheriff.
“What can I do for you?” Troy Davis asked, leaning back in his chair, giving a relaxed impression.
Roy wasn’t deceived. The lawman was intensely interested in his visit. “Like I said when I called, I came to talk to you about the John Doe.”
“You know something I don’t?” Davis asked.
Roy considered the question. “I might.”
“Tell me.”
That, of course, was the reason Roy was here, although he probably wouldn’t share everything he knew, and where he’d gotten his information would remain with him. Davis understood and accepted that, although Roy knew he’d do his best to trick him into revealing his sources.
“During your investigation, did you run into the names Max Russell or Stewart Samuels, by any chance?” Roy asked. Those were the other two men who’d been with Dan Sherman and Bob Beldon in that patrol in Vietnam. Bob had told him how the four had become separated from their squad and stumbled into the village. Four men, four lives, each marked by that afternoon. Roy had located Samuels, who’d remained in the military and had a distinguished record of service. Of the four, he seemed the least affected by the events in Nam. Russell, however, had lived a troubled life after his release from the army. Like Beldon and Dan Sherman…
“I might have.” Davis leaned across his desk, nudging a stack of files that tilted precariously.
Roy was sure Davis couldn’t have heard about the men and had to be bluffing.
Davis riffled through the files until he found the one he wanted and flipped it open. Roy wasn’t surprised that Davis kept the John Doe case file close at hand. The sheriff leafed through it, then raised his eyes to meet Roy’s. “Are you going to tell me where you came up with these names?”
Roy grinned and slid down in his chair, crossing his arms. “No.” He had to protect Bob as much as possible. Even now, he couldn’t be sure of the extent of the other man’s involvement. He wanted to believe Beldon was an innocent bystander, but too many of the dots still didn’t connect.
The sheriff chuckled. “Why did I know you were going to say that?”
Roy didn’t bother to answer.
“Can you tell me why I have the sneaking suspicion either Max Russell or Stewart Samuels is going to be listed as a missing person?”
Making an effort not to look self-righteous, Roy shrugged.
“Help me out a little, if you would,” Troy muttered, turning to face his computer screen. “Can you at least give me a state?”
“I could