spent the morning in the morgue watching that woman autopsied. Tends to suck the joy right out of a man’s day. Ever seen an autopsy, Jim?”
Jim’s jaw squared. “No. But I’m still not telling you what you want to know.”
“Okay. Get your coat.”
Jim sat up straight. “You’re bluffing.”
“No, I’m not. Someone clued you in to that crime scene before the cops arrived. No telling how long you had to poke around that body. No telling what you touched. What you took.” Daniel met Jim’s eyes. “Maybe you even put her there.”
Jim turned red. “I had nothing to do with that and you know it.”
“I know nothing. I wasn’t there. You, on the other hand, were.”
“You don’t know that I was. Maybe I got the pictures from somebody else.”
Daniel leaned across the desk and pointed to the Band-Aids on the man’s forearm. “You left part of yourself behind, Jim. Crime scene guys found your skin in the bark of that tree.” Jim paled a little. “Now I can take you in and get a warrant for a DNA sample or you can tell me how you knew to be up that tree yesterday afternoon.”
“I can’t. Beyond the constitutional aspects, if I tell you, I’ll never get another tip.”
“So you got a tip.”
Jim sighed. “Daniel . . . If I knew I wouldn’t tell you, but I don’t know who it was.”
“An anonymous tip. Convenient.”
“It’s the truth. The call came through on my home phone, but the number was blocked. I didn’t know what I’d see when I got there.”
“Was the caller male or female?”
Jim shook his head. “No. Not gonna tell you that.”
Daniel considered. He’d already gotten more than he thought he would. “Then tell me when you arrived and what you did see.”
Jim tilted his head. “What’s in it for me?”
“An interview, exclusive. You might even sell to one of the big guys in Atlanta.”
Jim’s eyes lit up and Daniel knew he’d plucked the right chord. “All right. It’s not complicated. I got the call yesterday at noon. I got there at about one, climbed the tree, and waited. About two the bikers came through. A half hour later Officer Larkin showed up. He took one look at the body, climbed back up the bank to the road, and threw up. Pretty soon you state boys showed up. After everybody left I climbed down and went home.”
“Once you climbed down, how exactly did you get home?”
Jim’s lips thinned. “My wife. Marianne.”
Daniel blinked. “Marianne? Marianne Murphy? You married Marianne Murphy?”
Jim looked smug. “Yes.”
Marianne Murphy had been the girl voted most likely to do . . . everybody. “Well.” Daniel cleared his throat, not wanting to visualize Jim Woolf with the buxom and very generous Marianne Murphy. “How did you get there?”
“She dropped me off, too.”
“I’ll want to talk to her. To confirm the times. And I want the pictures you took while you were sitting there. All of them.”
Glaring, Jim popped his memory card from his camera and tossed it. Daniel caught it with one hand and slipped it into his pocket as he stood up. “I’ll be in touch.”
Jim followed him to the door. “When?”
“When I know something.” Daniel opened the door, then stopped, his hand still on the doorknob. And stared.
Behind him he heard Jim’s soft gasp. “Oh my God. That’s . . .”
Alex Fallon. She stood at the bottom of the police station stairs, a satchel over one shoulder. She still wore her black suit. Her shoulders abruptly stiffened and she turned slowly until she met his eyes. For a long moment they stared at each other across Main Street. She didn’t smile. In fact, even from this distance Daniel could see her full lips go thin. She was angry.
Daniel crossed the street, his eyes never breaking away from hers. When he stood before her she lifted her chin, as she’d done that morning. “Agent Vartanian.”
His mouth went dry. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I’m here to see the sheriff about filing a
Jim’s jaw squared. “No. But I’m still not telling you what you want to know.”
“Okay. Get your coat.”
Jim sat up straight. “You’re bluffing.”
“No, I’m not. Someone clued you in to that crime scene before the cops arrived. No telling how long you had to poke around that body. No telling what you touched. What you took.” Daniel met Jim’s eyes. “Maybe you even put her there.”
Jim turned red. “I had nothing to do with that and you know it.”
“I know nothing. I wasn’t there. You, on the other hand, were.”
“You don’t know that I was. Maybe I got the pictures from somebody else.”
Daniel leaned across the desk and pointed to the Band-Aids on the man’s forearm. “You left part of yourself behind, Jim. Crime scene guys found your skin in the bark of that tree.” Jim paled a little. “Now I can take you in and get a warrant for a DNA sample or you can tell me how you knew to be up that tree yesterday afternoon.”
“I can’t. Beyond the constitutional aspects, if I tell you, I’ll never get another tip.”
“So you got a tip.”
Jim sighed. “Daniel . . . If I knew I wouldn’t tell you, but I don’t know who it was.”
“An anonymous tip. Convenient.”
“It’s the truth. The call came through on my home phone, but the number was blocked. I didn’t know what I’d see when I got there.”
“Was the caller male or female?”
Jim shook his head. “No. Not gonna tell you that.”
Daniel considered. He’d already gotten more than he thought he would. “Then tell me when you arrived and what you did see.”
Jim tilted his head. “What’s in it for me?”
“An interview, exclusive. You might even sell to one of the big guys in Atlanta.”
Jim’s eyes lit up and Daniel knew he’d plucked the right chord. “All right. It’s not complicated. I got the call yesterday at noon. I got there at about one, climbed the tree, and waited. About two the bikers came through. A half hour later Officer Larkin showed up. He took one look at the body, climbed back up the bank to the road, and threw up. Pretty soon you state boys showed up. After everybody left I climbed down and went home.”
“Once you climbed down, how exactly did you get home?”
Jim’s lips thinned. “My wife. Marianne.”
Daniel blinked. “Marianne? Marianne Murphy? You married Marianne Murphy?”
Jim looked smug. “Yes.”
Marianne Murphy had been the girl voted most likely to do . . . everybody. “Well.” Daniel cleared his throat, not wanting to visualize Jim Woolf with the buxom and very generous Marianne Murphy. “How did you get there?”
“She dropped me off, too.”
“I’ll want to talk to her. To confirm the times. And I want the pictures you took while you were sitting there. All of them.”
Glaring, Jim popped his memory card from his camera and tossed it. Daniel caught it with one hand and slipped it into his pocket as he stood up. “I’ll be in touch.”
Jim followed him to the door. “When?”
“When I know something.” Daniel opened the door, then stopped, his hand still on the doorknob. And stared.
Behind him he heard Jim’s soft gasp. “Oh my God. That’s . . .”
Alex Fallon. She stood at the bottom of the police station stairs, a satchel over one shoulder. She still wore her black suit. Her shoulders abruptly stiffened and she turned slowly until she met his eyes. For a long moment they stared at each other across Main Street. She didn’t smile. In fact, even from this distance Daniel could see her full lips go thin. She was angry.
Daniel crossed the street, his eyes never breaking away from hers. When he stood before her she lifted her chin, as she’d done that morning. “Agent Vartanian.”
His mouth went dry. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I’m here to see the sheriff about filing a
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