I walked through the front doors of the Newburgh Police Department, leaned in close to the little circle cut into the thick, bulletproof glass, and asked the receptionist if I could speak to Sergeant Bill Jeffries.

I followed him through the bowels of the police station. He kept quiet. Seemed he was worried about people eavesdropping.

Once in his cramped office, I spun him my somewhat vague story about Alton Beatty and his relationship to Pete Stahl. I didn’t give too many details because I still wasn’t sure I could trust him.

Finally, he said, “The Alton Beatty you’re talking about is the guy who was just shot at the Budstop about an hour ago, right?”

“Exactly.”

“And you wouldn’t know anything about a shoot-out between two men that lasted for several blocks?”

“Not a thing.”

“Unfortunately, the only description of the two men shooting is that they were white males. Not a lot to go on.”

I kept my expression blank.

Jeffries said, “Look, Mitchum, I know you had nothing to do with either death. I even know your brother didn’t kill Pete Stahl. But there’s a lot of weird shit going on. I don’t get the sense that you’re telling me everything.”

“Maybe that’s more for your own good than mine.”

Jeffries nodded. He turned and typed on a keyboard. He studied the screen, frowning as he scrolled through a few pages.

He said, “As the administrative sergeant, I can get into any part of our network. It looks like your friend Pete Stahl was arrested about a month ago but never booked. When I peeked into the narcotics squad’s notes, I saw that Stahl was brought in on some kind of a possession charge. It doesn’t look like he got a chance to call his attorney. That could mean he was cooperating.”

I said, “I think I’m following you. One of your narcotics guys grabbed him, then let him go for no documented reason. Sounds like he might’ve made a deal, all right.” I couldn’t help but reach in my pocket and feel the safety-deposit key I had taken from Alton. There were too many leaks in the Newburgh Police Department to let anyone know I had it.

Jeffries was taking a few notes from the computer screen and looked troubled by what he saw.

“Who’s the cop that arrested Pete?”

“He was on a temporary duty assignment. I was looking to see if maybe he screwed up some paperwork and that’s why they had to release your friend.”

“Who was the cop?”

“Mike Tharpe.”

Chapter 22

Chapter 22