Page 48 of Dirty Looks

We stood to let ourselves out, but Peter said, “I’ll walk you to the door.”

We followed him out into the entryway, and I raised my brows as he slid the doors of the family room closed behind him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card and handed it to Jack.

“Whatever Tiffany and I can do to help,” he said. “Just reach out. I’m the head psychologist at the school, and I oversee all of the counselors. But I still see patients privately. I’m sure this was very difficult for some of your officers who were on scene.”

“I appreciate the thoughtfulness,” Jack said, taking the card.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

We madeour way back to the Towne Square, navigating through cars and pedestrians who were clogging up the roadways.

The Towne Square was where the four towns in King George County met, and many of the buildings were on the historical registry. The courthouse sat in the middle of the square, and then the other municipal buildings like the sheriff’s office and city hall were across the street. There were shops and restaurants and bars, and the city was doing its best to revitalize the area with upstairs condos and studio apartments over the businesses. What they’d done was create a madhouse because parking was very limited.

It was a Tuesday evening, so the city employee traffic was mostly gone, but the bar on the corner was almost always busy. Jack finally turned on his lights to get people to move out of the way, and he pulled into his parking spot in front of the sheriff’s office.

“I enjoy the perks of riding in a cop car,” I said. There was a damp chill in the air as the sun was starting to go down, but I realized we’d had a pretty good stretch without any rain. Hopefully it stayed that way.

“Serve and protect,” Jack said, winking. “That’s my motto.”

“I thought you were going to pick up Doug?” I asked.

“I want to check in with Betsy first,” he said. “Her car is still here. I’ve been out of the office all day.”

Betsy Clement had been Jack’s secretary since he’d been elected as sheriff. She’d also been the secretary for about a dozen or so other sheriffs over the last forty years. She knew secrets about people that she would go to her grave with, but just in case she turned to a life of blackmail, everyone stayed out of her path.

Jack keyed us into the private entrance that led to the hallway just outside his office. Things were quiet inside. Second shift was just coming on, so there was a relaxed feel to the place. The smell of burnt coffee lingered from the day, and there was an underlying odor of Pine-Sol.

We turned the corner and saw Betsy Clement, locking up the stack of files that had been on her desk. She was a small woman, and I could never recall in my life a time when she wasn’t old. Her face was comfortably wrinkled and a pair of glasses hung from a chain around her neck.

“I was just about to leave for the day,” she said. “Your messages are on your desk. You’re not needed in court tomorrow.”

Her voice was like a chainsaw, a testament to the two packs of cigarettes a day she used to smoke. She’d quit a few years ago, and now she chewed gum like it was a lifeline.

“Good news,” Jack said. “Anything urgent?”

“SSDD,” she said.

My mouth twitched at her response. There was no one quite like Betsy.

“A man named Geoffrey left several messages at the request of Robert Lidle. I told him you were in court all day and couldn’t check your phone. Didn’t seem to stop him from calling though.”

“He’s probably not used to being told to wait for anything,” Jack said. “I got several messages on my cell from Robert as well. I’ll call him back.”

Betsy hmmphed. “I’d wait a few days. That Geoffrey kept talking to me like I was stuck to the bottom of his shoe.”

Jack grinned. “Martinez come in yet?”

“Not that I’ve seen, but I can’t keep track of everyone.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Jack said. “Have a good night.”

“We’ll see,” she said. She hiked her bag over her shoulder and grabbed her keys, and then shuffled out the back door toward the gated lot.

I scrubbed my hands over my face.

Jack opened his office and moved behind his desk to his computer, ignoring the stack of handwritten messages from Betsy.

“What’s Alex’s full name?” he asked.

---