package. “It’s true,” he said.
“It was postmarked the day before she died. Interesting, but I’m not sure it tells us anything.”
“But surely,” Sadie started.
“Why not?” Lucy asked at the same time.
Zack held up his hand. “Because like most things, a postmark can be faked. It’s possible that it was sent days before it was postmarked, or it could have been stamped and then held until the next day.” He rubbed his chin.
“And didn’t you say a delivery service brought this to your door, Sadie? It shouldn’t have been postmarked at all.”
“It could have been Express Mail,” Sadie said.
“They have package delivery people.” She thought hard about the uniform the messenger had been wearing.
“The uniform was more than one color.”
“I’m going to hold on to these,” he held up the note and the watch.
“But I’ll give you a receipt. The court may find that Tamsin’s intention was for you to have it. Or not.” He shrugged.
He pulled some paperwork from a drawer and started filling it out. Then he pushed it over to Sadie to sign and took it to the copier outside his door.
“Do you think the watch is why Tamsin was killed?” Lucy asked when Zack handed Sadie the copy of the receipt.
“I don’t know, but Sadie, you’d better watch yourself. If it was this watch and the person who killed Tamsin finds out she sent it to you… well, you could be in danger,” Zack finished lamely.
“I can’t imagine anyone killing for that tiny useless watch,” Lucy said. “It’s just ludicrous.”
“Some people gamble on what the next big thing is going to be,” Sadie said. “If they thought the watch was going to gain value it might be possible. But truthfully, it’s unlikely.”
“Isn’t money the number one motive for murder?” Lucy asked.
“I think crimes of passion are number one,” Zack said, “but it doesn’t matter what the number one reason is, it only matters what our murderer’s reason was. Find that, find the murderer.”
“Or vice versa,” Sadie said, just to be contrary. She got up.
“Come on Luce,” she said. “Let’s take Mr. Bradshaw home. The Chief here has a homicide to solve.”
“Zack, Sadie,” he said. “My name is Zack.”
“I know,” she smiled at him. “But I can’t help myself. It’s so much fun to tease you.”
As they were passing the squad room, Mr. Bradshaw stopped in the doorway. He went rigid, tail sticking straight up in the air, and bared his teeth. A growl emanated from his throat. Sadie stopped, surprised. Mr. B appeared to be looking at a well-dressed man sitting across from one of the desks. The man didn’t appear to have noticed Mr. B’s aggression and Sadie scooped him up and carried him down the hall.
“What was that about?” Lucy asked.
“I don’t know,” Sadie said. “Mr. Bradshaw doesn’t usually growl at people like that.”
“Had to be something wrong,” Lucy said. “Maybe that man was lying to the officer and Mr. Bradshaw could tell.”
“Could be, but the last thing I need is for Mr. Bradshaw to get himself banned from the police station. He’d be unhappy if I had to leave him on the step like a normal dog.”
She kept the little dog under her arm until they were safely outside. Outside the station house, Lucy parted ways with Sadie and Mr. B.
“I’ve got things to do on this side of town,” she said. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
Sadie and Mr. B. hurried home through the brisk morning. A bank of clouds was rolling in from the west and cold rain spit down at them in showers. They were moving quickly and made it back to the shop in record time – even with a pit stop in the park for Mr. B.
They hurried back across the street, thankful to bang through the door into the warm shop. Betty, Sadie’s shop assistant, was at the register as they blew in and she
“It was postmarked the day before she died. Interesting, but I’m not sure it tells us anything.”
“But surely,” Sadie started.
“Why not?” Lucy asked at the same time.
Zack held up his hand. “Because like most things, a postmark can be faked. It’s possible that it was sent days before it was postmarked, or it could have been stamped and then held until the next day.” He rubbed his chin.
“And didn’t you say a delivery service brought this to your door, Sadie? It shouldn’t have been postmarked at all.”
“It could have been Express Mail,” Sadie said.
“They have package delivery people.” She thought hard about the uniform the messenger had been wearing.
“The uniform was more than one color.”
“I’m going to hold on to these,” he held up the note and the watch.
“But I’ll give you a receipt. The court may find that Tamsin’s intention was for you to have it. Or not.” He shrugged.
He pulled some paperwork from a drawer and started filling it out. Then he pushed it over to Sadie to sign and took it to the copier outside his door.
“Do you think the watch is why Tamsin was killed?” Lucy asked when Zack handed Sadie the copy of the receipt.
“I don’t know, but Sadie, you’d better watch yourself. If it was this watch and the person who killed Tamsin finds out she sent it to you… well, you could be in danger,” Zack finished lamely.
“I can’t imagine anyone killing for that tiny useless watch,” Lucy said. “It’s just ludicrous.”
“Some people gamble on what the next big thing is going to be,” Sadie said. “If they thought the watch was going to gain value it might be possible. But truthfully, it’s unlikely.”
“Isn’t money the number one motive for murder?” Lucy asked.
“I think crimes of passion are number one,” Zack said, “but it doesn’t matter what the number one reason is, it only matters what our murderer’s reason was. Find that, find the murderer.”
“Or vice versa,” Sadie said, just to be contrary. She got up.
“Come on Luce,” she said. “Let’s take Mr. Bradshaw home. The Chief here has a homicide to solve.”
“Zack, Sadie,” he said. “My name is Zack.”
“I know,” she smiled at him. “But I can’t help myself. It’s so much fun to tease you.”
As they were passing the squad room, Mr. Bradshaw stopped in the doorway. He went rigid, tail sticking straight up in the air, and bared his teeth. A growl emanated from his throat. Sadie stopped, surprised. Mr. B appeared to be looking at a well-dressed man sitting across from one of the desks. The man didn’t appear to have noticed Mr. B’s aggression and Sadie scooped him up and carried him down the hall.
“What was that about?” Lucy asked.
“I don’t know,” Sadie said. “Mr. Bradshaw doesn’t usually growl at people like that.”
“Had to be something wrong,” Lucy said. “Maybe that man was lying to the officer and Mr. Bradshaw could tell.”
“Could be, but the last thing I need is for Mr. Bradshaw to get himself banned from the police station. He’d be unhappy if I had to leave him on the step like a normal dog.”
She kept the little dog under her arm until they were safely outside. Outside the station house, Lucy parted ways with Sadie and Mr. B.
“I’ve got things to do on this side of town,” she said. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
Sadie and Mr. B. hurried home through the brisk morning. A bank of clouds was rolling in from the west and cold rain spit down at them in showers. They were moving quickly and made it back to the shop in record time – even with a pit stop in the park for Mr. B.
They hurried back across the street, thankful to bang through the door into the warm shop. Betty, Sadie’s shop assistant, was at the register as they blew in and she
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