Page 108 of Sworn to Silence
“You got anything new?”
“I’m working on it. See you in a few.”
I disconnect and spend a few minutes Googling moving companies within a thirty-mile radius of Painters Mill. There are none with a Painters Mill address, but a Web site pops up for a moving company in Millersburg along with a U-Haul franchise. Grabbing the legal pad, I jot contact information. I know the angle I’m pursuing is a long shot, but it’s all I’ve got. I dial Great Midwest Movers, where I’m put on hold and transferred.
“This is Jerry Golan, how can I help you?”
I identify myself and get right to the point. “I’m working on a case and need the names of people who moved out of the area from 1993 to 1995. Do you guys keep records that long?”
“This about them murders up there?”
“I’m not at liberty to get into details.” I lower my voice. “But just between you and me it could be related. I’d appreciate if you’d keep it under your hat.”
“My lips are sealed.” He lowers his voice as if we now share a secret, and I hear the tap of a keyboard on the other end of the line. “The good news is we’ve kept all our records since we opened in 1989. The bad news is, they’re all over the place. We moved back in ’04. Everything got boxed up. Some of it’s in storage and some’s here at the office.”
“All I need is the names and contact information.”
Another whistle sails through fiber optic cable. “Might take a while.”
“Any way you can expedite that for the chief of police?”
“Well, jeez, I guess I could call in a temp.”
“Would it help if I told you to send the bill to me?”
He brightens. “Yes, ma’am. That’d help a lot.”
A temp isn’t in the budget, but I’ll cover it somehow. After hanging up, I go to the Coshocton County Auditor Web site. I stumble through a few pages before finding what I’m looking for. The site offers public access to tax records for real estate sales and transfers. I click on the link and go to the Advanced Search. “Bingo,” I whisper and enter the dates I’m looking for.
Unfortunately, the database only goes back ten years. I click on the “Contact” button and request a listing of sales for the county between January 1, 1993 and December 31, 1995.
Next, I go to the Holmes County Auditor Web site. I’m pleased to find that the site offers a “sales search” by property district. There are dozens of districts, broken down by township and village.
My phone buzzes. I see Glock’s cell number on the display and pick up. “Hey.”
“Something’s going on,” he says without preamble. “Auggie Brock called a few minutes ago and asked me to meet him at the police station. Said it was urgent.”
“What?” Alarm shoots through me. “Did he say why?”
“No, but I thought you might want a heads-up. I’m on my way.”
The line goes dead.
Troubled, I stare at the phone. It surprises me by buzzing again. Mona’s number pops up on the display and I pick up. “Auggie and his entourage just walked in,” she whispers. “They’re coming your way.”
I look up to see Auggie Brock at my door. I hang up. Behind Auggie, I see Janine Fourman. A tremor of uneasiness goes through me when I see Detrick and John Tomasetti bringing up the rear.
My heart rolls into a hard staccato. “What’s wrong?”
No one answers. At first I think there’s been another murder. Then the truth hits me, like a fist rammed into my solar plexus. John told them about Lapp. About what I did. They’re here to fire me. Maybe even arrest me. The thought paralyzes me with fear. With shame and a keen sense of betrayal. With the knowledge that I’m in very big trouble.
I stare at John. He stares back with those cold cop’s eyes. Bastard, I think.Bastard.
“We’d like a word with you,” Auggie begins.
I rise, my uneasiness growing into a wild and unwieldy panic. “What’s going on?”
Auggie clears his throat. “Chief Burkholder, effective immediately, based on just cause, we are terminating your employment contract with the Village of Painters Mill.”
