“I’ll keep that in mind. See you around.”
Mac nodded and opened the driver’s door of his truck. Whoever had inflicted the damage was long gone now, of course, probably safely among the rest of the ball team and ready to swear he—or they—had never left the group. But Mac had no intention of letting it go that easily. He wanted to have a few words with Sharon Henderson’s kid brother. And the boy had better listen, if he knew what was good for him.
“I’M TELLING YOU, Chief, I don’t like that guy. He gives me the creeps.”
Wade studied Gilbert Dodson over steepled fingers. “What is it, exactly, that you find so creepy about him?”
“That attitude of his. All cool and superior. Like he knows something everyone else doesn’t. I’m telling you, Chief, I’d keep looking at him in regard to those break-ins. I’d bet he has something to do with them.”
“You’ve been trying to convince me of that for more than a week now, Gil, but you haven’t brought me any proof.” Wade leaned farther back in his chair, making the springs squeak. “Bring me something I can work with, and I’ll do something about it. But until then…”
He left the rest of the sentence hanging.
Dodson sighed with his usual pessimism. “I’m doing my best, Chief.”
“I’m sure you are, Gil. So go out and do some more of it.”
Nodding heavily, Dodson shuffled out of Wade’s office.
Gilbert seemed convinced Mac Cordero was up to something nefarious, Wade mused, still staring at the empty doorway. His officer’s dislike of the other man was curious—Gilbert usually got along just fine with everyone.
Wade was starting to have more questions than answers—about many things. And it was really getting on his nerves.
Looked as if it was time to pay Mac Cordero another call.
CHAPTER TEN
SHARON LEFT her shop as soon as Tressie returned from her lunch break Friday afternoon. “I’ll be back later,” she said on her way out.
“Enjoy your lunch,” Tressie called after her. “I hope you’ll be sharing it with someone…interesting.”
Since Tressie had been teasing her mercilessly all week about Mac, Sharon let the barb sail by unchallenged. For one thing, she did plan to see Mac while she was gone. She wanted to ask him exactly what he’d meant by that strange phone call last night.
Knowing it would only set Brad off again, she hadn’t mentioned the call to him, but she’d questioned him closely about what he’d done before she’d arrived at the ballpark to watch his game. He’d shrugged carelessly and told her he and the rest of the guys had eaten dinner at the soda shop and then headed for the park to change into their uniforms and warm up. Nothing special, he assured her. Just ask any of his friends.
It bothered her that he hadn’t quite been able to meet her eyes during the conversation.
Mac’s truck was parked outside the Garrett house, along with a few others. She was glad she’d caught him before he left. Now if she could catch him in private for a few minutes to ask him…
She saw the scrape on his truck almost as soon as she got out of her car. Walking slowly toward it, she winced as she studied the long slash of metal, bared where the black paint had been scraped away. While she knew it was possible the damage had been caused by accident, deep inside she knew what had happened. Someone had done this on purpose. A malicious act of vandalism—or an ugly message.
“If you’re here to see me, you almost missed out,” she heard Mac say from behind her. “I was just about to leave for lunch.”
She turned to look at him, motioning toward the truck behind her. “When did this happen?”
“Yesterday evening—while I was having dinner at Cora’s Café.”
“You discovered it just before you called me?”
“Not long before.”
“You thought Brad did this.”
“The possibility crossed my mind,” he said, and there was something in his expression she couldn’t quite interpret.
“Mac, you can’t possibly believe—”
Talking and laughing loudly, two workers Sharon knew emerged from the front door of the house and headed toward the outbuilding where the supplies were kept. On their way past, they called out greetings to her, which she returned with forced patience before looking at Mac again. “You really don’t think…”