“How did he establish it was Shaw?” Joe asked ahead of Willy.

“Standard procedure. Asked for his license and registration. It’s an unusual name, Lemuel.”

“And the kid?” Willy wanted to know.

Rowe made a face. “Billy or Bobby Smith is what he said. The report had it both ways, so I’m not sure. No identification. There was no way to confirm it.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Willy said. “No doubt something came up during processing. How old was Bobby or Billy?”

“Supposedly around twelve, but we never found out.”

“What do you mean?” Joe asked, not liking where this was heading.

Rowe grew nervous again, moving to the door and looking outside. “This is where it gets a little hinky,” he admitted, facing them again. “When I first found this file, which was buried where it made no sense, it struck me as wrong. I couldn’t figure out why nothing had happened. The initial paperwork was there, mostly, and a case number was punched, which made it an official encounter, but there was a note saying, ‘Referred to chief,’ and that’s where it ended. I knew there had to be more, like you’re saying. Underage kid, sexual contact with an older man. But there was nothing.”

“What did your chief say?” Joe asked, already suspecting the answer.

He didn’t get what he expected.

“I didn’t ask him.”

Willy was less diplomatic. “What the fuck, man? Why the hell not?”

Rowe’s cheeks flushed, but he answered directly, his eyes steady. “Because I need this job. I have a family. You don’t know my chief.”

Joe thought back to what Sam had read about the Thomaston department on the internet. “Clyde Herrick? That him?”

“Yup. Born and bred here. Been chief for decades.”

“So?” Willy asked leadingly.

“So he’s really old-school. Totally set in his ways. He doesn’t like the boat rocked.”

Willy was looking disgusted. “You let it drop.”

Rowe’s tone grew defensive. “Not entirely. I did ask him then about Shaw, to see if it rang a bell. I figured it had to, given the way this thing ended up.”

“And?”

“I hit a nerve. I only asked if he’d ever heard the name Lemuel Shaw. I didn’t mention the file. And he lit right up. ‘Why d’you want to know?’ he asked, immediately pissed off. I said I’d bumped into it somewhere. That it struck me as a weird name. He told me to forget about it. ‘Nobody to you,’ was how he put it, and I got the message, so I let it go. But when your BOL came in…”

He hesitated. Willy and Joe both gave him time to finish.

“I felt bad. That report, especially the way it’d been misfiled, I knew in my gut something was off, and Herrick’s reaction drove it home.”

Joe patted his shoulder. “Rock and a hard place, Dillon. You’ve done the right thing now.”

Willy was less forgiving. “You’re goddamn lucky you fessed up. You said this was years ago. How many?”