Chat - Archer Mayor [42]
Barrie raised both dirty hands in surrender, one now filled with the slightly crumpled document. “No, no. Knock your socks off. I don’t give a shit. Dan will, though, and I will call him. Or my ass is grass.”
“Go for it, then,” Rob recommended before unleashing his team to find what they were all looking for.
The warrant covered any tools that might have been used to remove the now infamous tie rod nut, and any documentation, electronic and not, pertaining to the servicing of Leo’s car. That latter part sent Rob and Joe directly to the decrepit-looking computer nestled in the corner of a cluttered and paper-strewn office.
Barrie, seeking whatever privacy he could amid the invasion, went to a phone in the service bay wall to call Dan Griffis, a task his body language clearly indicated he didn’t relish.
Rob gingerly pulled out the lopsided, duct-taped office chair parked before the computer, and, after studying its seat for both springs and foreign matter, settled in to address the filthy keyboard.
“Jeez,” he said softly as Joe pulled over a folding metal chair to join him. “Good thing they’re building these things to resist wear and tear.”
He shuffled the mouse under his right hand to illuminate the screen. A desktop surfaced with a cluster of different icons, spread out like colorful confetti. He’d barely double-clicked the first one when the office door banged open and Barrie appeared on the threshold.
“He is really pissed,” he announced. “And he’s gonna be even more pissed when he sees you guys on that thing.”
“You talking about Dan?” Rob asked without looking over his shoulder at him.
“Well, yeah. Who else?”
“How long till he gets here?”
“Three seconds, the way he sounded.”
Rob sighed slightly, keeping at his task. “How long?”
“Ten minutes.”
“Okay. Send one of the deputies in here, okay? On your way out.”
Barrie hesitated a moment, translating both the content and the meaning of that last request. He then vanished, to be replaced by one of Rob’s team, an older officer with mostly gray hair.
“What’s up?”
This time Barrows turned to face the man. “We’re about to be visited by Dan Griffis, the owner.”
“I know him,” the deputy said in a near growl.
“Then you know what to expect. Keep him outside. Thanks.”
Rob and Joe returned to the screen. Under the former’s prompting, icon after icon began opening, revealing spreadsheets, correspondence files, financial records, inventory lists, and more, some of which was clearly recreational, such as games, and certainly one of which was password locked.
“What do you think?” Joe asked his guide when they hit that one.
Rob worked the keyboard harder, uncovering what he could about the file. “It’s accessed a lot. I can tell you that much,” he reported after a couple of minutes.
At that point they were disturbed by the sound of shouting from outside the building.
“That’d be Dan,” Rob murmured, his eyes still on the screen. “You want to do anything about it?”
Joe straightened, considering the proposal. Initially, he saw no point. The man was worked up, he was being controlled by the deputies—or would be arrested—and discovering that Joe Gunther was part of the investigation would only be inflammatory.
That last detail made Joe get up, his own irritation finally rising to the surface. “Maybe I’ll just say hi,” he said.
Rob glanced at him, waiting a beat before smiling and saying, “Yeah. Why not? I’ll just keep poking around.”
Joe left the office, crossed the waiting room, and opened the door onto the frozen front parking lot—and two deputies bracketing a red-faced, spittle-lipped barrel of a man who was bouncing on the balls of his feet in barely controlled fury.
“Hey, Dan,” Joe said from the door. “Long time.”
The man froze in mid-expletive and stared at him. “Gunther?” he finally asked, his tone incredulous.
“Yeah.”
“What the fuck’re you doing here?”
“Assisting the sheriff’s department.”
Dan Griffis took two steps in his direction and was immediately closed in on by the two deputies, one of whom rested a restraining