Sam leaned in, studying the details. “Good work, Reese. Any priors?”
Reese shook her head. “Nothing. Clean record. She’s been a resident of White Rock for over twenty years.”
Sam straightened, his mind already formulating a plan. “All right, I’m going to pay Ms. Hartwell a visit. Can you send her address to my phone?”
“Already done, Chief,” Reese replied with a smile.
Sam turned to Lucy, who was sitting quietly, watching their conversation as if she could understand them. “Looks like we’re heading back out.”
Once in the car, Sam pulled out his phone and dialed Jo’s number.
She answered on the second ring. “Harris.”
“Jo, it’s Sam. We’ve got a lead on a car that was seen near Garvin’s property the day he died.”
He could hear the rustling of papers in the background as Jo spoke. “That’s great news. What have you got?”
Sam filled her in on Clara Hartwell as he navigated the streets of White Rock. “Does the name ring any bells?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “No, I don’t know her. Why would she be trying to frame me?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Sam replied, his voice grim. “I’m heading over to interview her now. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Thanks, Sam,” Jo said, her voice softening. “Be careful, okay?”
“Always am,” Sam assured her before ending the call.
As they pulled up to Clara Hartwell’s modest Cape Cod, Sam noted the red Prius in the driveway. The gardens were tidy, neat as a pin, like Clara’s reputation. He climbed out, Lucy padding beside him, tail wagging.
A woman answered the door, looking from Sam to Lucy with mild curiosity.
“Ms. Hartwell?” Sam held up his badge. “Chief Sam Mason. I was hoping to ask you a few questions.”
Clara Hartwell’s brows lifted. “Chief Mason,” she said, her tone polite but guarded. “Of course. Come in.”
She led him into a cozy, book-lined living room. History texts and old maps covered the walls. Clara gestured to a chair as she took her own seat, eyeing Lucy.
“This is our police K-9, Lucy,” Sam said.
Clara smiled down at Lucy as the dog sat on the floor beside Sam’schair.
“All right, then,” Clara said, settling in. “How can I help you?”
“Were you at Garvin McDaniels’s place two days ago?”
She nodded, a slight frown creasing her brow. “Yes, I was very sorry to hear about his passing. I had an appointment with him that afternoon, in fact. He’d asked me to look into some old land records for a property on River Road.”
“Any idea why he suddenly got interested in the property?” Sam asked.
Clara’s gaze drifted as she thought it over. “He said it was land he’d inherited years ago but never paid much attention to. Then, recently, he got the impression it could be valuable.” She glanced back at Sam. “He didn’t say why. Just wanted to know if there was anything of historical interest.”
“Did you find anything?” Sam prompted.
She rose, moving to a nearby bookshelf and pulling out a large folder. “Some old surveys show unusual features on the land. Nothing confirmed, but he was intrigued.” She opened the folder, revealing faded blueprints and yellowed documents. “I gave Garvin copies of these.”
Sam looked over the maps and documents, his mind racing. He hadn’t seen anything like this inGarvin’s house. “Any chance you remember where he put them?”
“He took them back to his place, said he’d look them over. But…” She paused. “You think they’re missing?”