Page 42 of Lost Hours
Mina glanced at Nolan to see if he was thinking along the same lines as she was—if Wade needed a quick infusion of cash, he might have killed the mayor so he could sell the boat.
Nolan’s furrowed brow and knowing look told her it was likely they were of the same mind. It also told her they might just have their first viable suspect for murder.
12
Nolan didn’t want to seem excited about a strong suspect, so he schooled his emotions as they headed for her car. Excited really wasn’t the right word. How could a person be excited over finding a potential murder suspect? Eager to question the guy might be more appropriate.
Mina got behind the wheel, and he slid into the passenger seat. He should wait to speak until she had the vehicle on the road, but he clicked on his seatbelt and turned to look at her. “I know we have to meet with the Veritas team soon and you want to talk to Palmer, but then we need to talk to Wade Collins.”
“I agree.” She shoved the key into the ignition, but her phone rang. She grabbed it. “Putting you on speaker, Abe. Nolan is with me.”
“Harmony finally dropped off the rental agreement,” Abe said. “And information on the building owner.”
“And?” Nolan sat breathless in hopes of a strong lead.
“I reviewed the agreement,” Abe said, sounding a bit defensive. “The name on it is Smythe Fitzwilliam.”
“Smythe Fitzwilliam.” Nolan echoed. “Seems like a bogus name to me.”
“Me too,” Abe said, “but I searched for it anyway. Found no one. Called the phone number listed on the application. It’s disconnected.”
“At least there was once a phone connected to that number,” Mina said. “But not surprising that it was disconnected now that Smythe’s role in the murder seems to be over.”
“We can’t let it go, though,” Abe said. “I’ll run down call logs for the number. I’m guessing we’ll find out it was a prepaid phone, but still, if we can discover where Smythe bought it, security footage could give us an actual photo of the man, and we can search databases.”
“That would be most helpful.” Mina shifted in her seat. “And phone numbers he called or who called him could be helpful as well.”
“Agreed,” Abe said. “The contract also has an address listed in Seaside Harbor. Turns out it’s the address for the local library. I’ll visit them to see if they’ve heard of this guy, but I feel fairly certain that will be a negative.”
“You should still show them Smythe’s sketch,” Mina said. “Just in case it’s an employee or a regular visitor masquerading under the name Smythe Fitzwilliam.”
“Already in my plans.” Abe’s tone was definitely surly now. “Will let you know what I locate.”
The call went dead, and Mina turned her full focus on getting them on the road. Nolan wanted to ask about Abe’s behavior and why Mina didn’t say anything about it, but it was none of his business to interfere with how she ran her department.
They raced through the foggy, rainy streets of Lost Lake, out into the country, and then into the seaside section of Seaside Harbor where Palmer lived.
Cody Palmer’s extravagant house overlooked the hilly terrain, where the sun was just breaking through early morning fog and clouds. If they weren’t there to interview a potential murder suspect, Nolan would stop to admire God’s creation as it unfolded over the landscape.
One of the unexpected joys he’d found in living at an inn perched on a cliff overlooking the ocean was seeing God’s beauty day in and day out. Nothing in his life had prepared him for the calm evenings he now experienced, erasing some of the horror and strife from the day and giving him a new perspective to begin his day.
But he was at this home for an ugly reason today. Murder.
He climbed the steps with Mina and looked over the two-story building. It boasted double-height windows in the front and a wide expanse of manicured lawn.
He let out a low whistle. “Guy’s got money. Fitting for someone who could afford to own a mansion. Especially not as his main residence.”
“Yeah, it looks like he’s made of money and investing in property is generally a sound decision.” Mina stabbed the doorbell.
The chime rang in the house, and Nolan half expected Smythe Fitzwilliam to answer as the butler. Instead, a tall man with a thick head of dark hair, a wide jaw, and a well-built body pulled the door open and stared at them. “Help you?”
Mina displayed her badge and introduced them. “Did you speak to Harmony Vance last night?”
He arched an eyebrow. “No, but I had a text from her telling me to call her. It was after business hours, and she usually has trivial things she needs help with, so I haven’t given her a call.”
“This isn’t trivial,” Nolan said, not liking the off-hand way he was responding. “It’s about the contract signed for your Tidewater Mansion last night.”
He raised his chin. “I don’t handle those little details and don’t know anything about it. You’ll have to talk to Harmony. She manages the reservations.” He started to close the door.
