The Bones She Buried

Eleven

“Quinn!” a male voice shouted from behind them, making them both jump.

Josie and Gretchen turned to see Bob Chitwood, their new Chief of Police, hovering over their shoulders. His normally ruddy, acne-pitted face was ashen as he stared past them at the computer monitor. He pointed to the screen. “You get anything from the flash drive you found at the Fraley scene?”

Gretchen nodded. “Yes, and it had the name Pratt written on the outside of it.”

“You figure out what it means?”

“No, not yet, sir,” Gretchen said.

“Keep looking,” he told her. “Quinn, my office. Now.”

To Gretchen, Josie said, “See what you can find.”

Gretchen nodded and turned back to the computer. Josie followed Chitwood into his office. Sitting in one of the two guest chairs in front of his large desk, Josie noticed he had finally unpacked the banker’s box full of personal items he had brought with him when he took over as Chief. Josie looked around at the walls, but he hadn’t hung anything up yet. Several frames sat on the floor propped against the wall beside his desk. Not for the first time she wondered what kind of man Bob Chitwood was beneath his bad temper.

“How’s Fraley?” Chitwood asked as he closed his office door and walked around to sit behind his desk.

“As good as can be expected,” Josie answered, stunned that Chitwood even cared to ask. “Still in shock, I think.”

Chitwood sighed. “Well, we’re going to need him. Not to work but to answer a lot of questions. You know we work from the family outward.”

Josie shifted in her chair, thinking about just how well asking Noah questions had gone for her earlier in the day. “Yeah, I know. Listen, Chief, I think we need Gretchen. She should be the lead investigator on this.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “No.”

“Sir, she’s the most experienced homicide investigator we’ve got. More experienced than me. You’re only keeping her on the desk because—”

He waggled a finger as he cut her off. “Be careful, Quinn. I’m keeping her on the desk because of the shit she pulled with the last murder we had in this town. She should never have been allowed back on the force. You think I don’t know you had a hand in that?”

“I’m not interested in talking politics with you, sir,” Josie said. “I’m interested in finding Colette Fraley’s killer as fast as humanly possible. You and I both know Gretchen is the surest way to do that.”

“You questioning my judgment, Quinn?”

“I’m saying this investigation needs Gretchen.”

He gestured toward the closed door. “You’ve got her. There’s lots of stuff she can help you with from the desk.”

“We need her in the field.”

“No.”

“Sir—”

“You want to be on leave, too? I’ll pull your badge for insubordination, Quinn. This is my department now, not yours. If Detective Palmer shows me that she can stay in her lane while she’s on the desk, then I’ll put her back in the field. That’s my decision. Got that?”

Josie wanted to say more, but she knew she was on thin ice. For Noah’s sake, she had to try to stay in Chitwood’s good graces. Mettner was good, but someone needed to oversee the investigation. Josie could only do that if she was still in play.

“Yes,” she said.

“Good. See what you can get from Fraley,” Chitwood told her. “I know he’s grieving, but we’ve got a murder to solve.”