Sam glanced out through the office’s glass wall, catching sight of Desmond Griggs lingering in the back. His mouth tightened. “Even Desmond Griggs?”
Marnie followed his gaze but didn’t flinch. “Of course. I know he’s been in trouble, but he’s turning things around. I’m giving him a chance.”
Sam studied her, wondering if she believed that—or if she just wanted him to believe it. He wished Jo were here. She could read people better than he ever could. If Marnie was really helping Griggs, maybe she wasn’t as bad as they thought.
“All right, Marnie,” Sam said slowly, letting the weight of the conversation settle. “Thanks for your time. I may need to talk to you again.”
“Of course.” The relief in her voice was palpable. “Anything to help. You know where to find me.”
Sam nodded and turned toward the door, Lucy trotting at his side. But as he left, something gnawed at him. Jo had said Garvin told her that Marnie was interested in the property. Marnie said no. One of them was lying—and it wasn’t Jo.
So the question was, was the liar Marnie or Garvin?
CHAPTER SIX
Jo was at her desk, trying to untangle Garvin’s family tree to link him to Stanley Clifton, when the door banged open. She looked up as her sister, Bridget, burst in—an anxious whirlwind of energy—along with the sweet smell of freshly baked cookies.
“Jo!” Bridget called, clutching a white bakery box to her chest, apron still dusted with flour. “I heard about Garvin. Are you okay?”
Jo pushed back her chair, scraping the worn floorboards. “I’m fine, Bridge,” she said, standing as Bridget wrapped her in a tight hug. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon clung to her clothes.
Bridget pulled back, her eyes scanning Jo’s face. “Ican’t believe it. Garvin... Who would want to hurt him?”
Jo shook her head, her voice low. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”
Wyatt and Kevin had been hovering nearby, and Bridget noticed them for the first time. She lifted the bakery box. “I brought cookies. I didn’t know what else to do. I just... needed to bring something.”
Kevin stepped forward, taking the box. “Thanks, Bridget. We could use something sweet about now.”
The group gathered around Jo’s desk, opening the box to the smell of warm chocolate chip cookies.
Bridget glanced around then lowered her voice. “What happened? Can you talk about it?”
Jo sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Someone broke into his house. There was a struggle...”
Her words trailed off, the image of Garvin’s body flashing in her mind. Wyatt picked up where she had left off, his tone flat. “Could’ve been a robbery gone wrong. But it sure felt personal.”
Bridget’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh, God. Poor Garvin.”
Jo reached over, squeezing her sister’s hand.
Silence fell over the group, broken only by the soft crunch of cookies. Bridget scanned the room, her browfurrowing. “Where’s Lucy? I brought her a special treat.”
“With Sam,” Kevin said, brushing cookie crumbs from his shirt. “He’s talking to Marnie Wilson.”
Bridget’s eyebrows shot up. “Marnie Wilson? The woman running for mayor? What does she have to do with Garvin?”
Jo and Wyatt exchanged a look before Jo spoke. “Not sure yet. Sam’s just following up on something.”
As if on cue, a loud meow echoed through the station. Major sauntered over, his green eyes locking on to Bridget like he owned the place. He stopped in front of her, his gaze expectant.
Bridget smiled, reaching into her apron pocket. “I guess Lucy will have to wait for her treat. You want it, Major?”
The cat meowed again, more insistently. Bridget placed a small dog treat on the floor, and Major snatched it up, trotting off like he’d just caught dinner.
Bridget watched him go, her brows drawing together in confusion. “Where’s he going with that?”
Jo smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Not sure. He’s got a spot somewhere he’s burying them.”