Page 17 of In Her Bed

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Page 17 of In Her Bed

“What was his reaction when you sold the radio to Derrick instead?”Jenna asked.

Rebecca’s lips pressed into a thin line.“He was furious.Called me—” She paused, glancing at Colonel Spelling.“Well, his language wasn’t suitable for polite company.Said I was out of my mind for selling such a valuable piece to a ‘well-known crank’ for a much lower price than he was offering.”

“He knew Derrick?”Jake asked, leaning forward.

“He seemed to.Called him the ‘conspiracy nut from out in the sticks.’I got the impression there was history.”

Jenna tilted her head.“Did Lynch interact with Derrick directly while they were here?”

“Not that I saw.Lynch was here earlier in the day, making another offer I refused.He stormed off but didn’t actually leave the property.When Derrick arrived later and purchased the radio, Lynch was still lurking near the refreshment table.”Rebecca hesitated, then added, “Actually, there’s something else.When Derrick left with his purchase, I saw Lynch go out too.But we were busy with other customers, and I didn’t think much more about it.”

The four law enforcement officers exchanged significant looks.

“Ms.Mitchell, is there anything else you can recall about either of them?”Jenna pressed gently.“Anything at all that seemed unusual or noteworthy?”

Rebecca considered for a moment.“Derrick paid in cash—small bills, like he’d been saving up.He was very protective of the radio when he bought it.Insisted on carrying it himself, wouldn’t even let Franklin help him to his car.”

“This has been extremely helpful,” Jenna said, standing and offering her card to Rebecca.“If you remember anything else, no matter how insignificant it might seem, please call me directly.”

Rebecca took the card, studying it before slipping it into her pocket.“Of course.I hope you find whoever did this.No one deserves to die over a radio, no matter how valuable.”

As they prepared to leave, Jenna took one more lingering look at the impressive collection.A lifetime of passion and knowledge, now being dispersed.She wondered how many of these pieces held stories as dire as the one they were uncovering.

Outside, the four huddled together.

“Lynch sounds like our guy,” Chief Morgan stated flatly.“He’s got the temper and the motive.”

“And apparently knew Derrick beforehand,” Jake added.“That’s not a coincidence.”

Colonel Spelling nodded curtly.“I agree.Where’s this shop of his located?”

“Downtown Pinecrest,” Morgan replied.“Golden Legend Treasures.Right off Market Street.”

Jenna wasalready moving toward the vehicle, her mind rapidly organizing the new information—the valuable radio, Lynch’s rage at losing it, his history of harassment, and the fact that he’d followed Derrick on his way out.It was far from conclusive, but it was the strongest lead they had.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The SUV rolled through the streets of Pinecrest with Chief Morgan at the wheel, each person inside wrapped in their own thoughts.This time Colonel Spelling was sitting up front and Jenna sat beside Jake in the back, his thigh occasionally brushing against hers when Morgan took a corner too sharply.Each time, Jenna felt a momentary distraction that she tried to ignore.

She had to acknowledge that attraction to Jake was growing, but she still had no idea where it could possibly lead.Aside from the issue of their jobs, she wasn’t sure she was ready for the kind of relationship that wouldn’t be casual and wasn’t likely to be brief.For so long her personal life had been focused on the loss of her sister, the death of her father, and her mother’s problems.Everything else she’d dedicated to being a good sheriff.

Pulling her attention back to being Sheriff, Jenna gazed out the window at the storefronts of Pinecrest sliding past.The town had a quaint charm that belied the darkness they were investigating.

“Mitchell’s daughter was certain that Lynch was angry about the radio,” Jake said, breaking the silence.“Angry enough to kill over it?”

“People have killed for less,” Morgan replied, his tone flat.

“But whoever killed Derrick didn’t take the radio from his home,” Jenna mused.“And Lynch has no record,” she said.“Not even a parking ticket.”

“Sometimes the cleanest records hide the dirtiest deeds,” Colonel Spelling remarked, his voice carrying the weight of decades in law enforcement.“And there are lots of reasons why he might not have taken the radio.Maybe he harbored some longstanding grudge against Derrick that was more important than the radio.Or maybe he got spooked and ran away before he could grab it.”

The car slowed as they approached a corner building with large display windows.Even from a distance, Jenna could see the cluttered exhibition of oddities in the window—old cameras, tarnished silver pieces, and what appeared to be a stuffed owl with one glass eye missing.

“Welcome to Golden Legend Treasures,” Morgan announced, pulling into a parking space across the street.“Where one man’s trash becomes another man’s overpriced collectible.”

They exited the vehicle and crossed the street toward the shop that stood like a monument to forgotten things, its facade weathered but maintained, a hand-painted sign hanging above the door.

As they neared the entrance, the door swung open.A man stepped out, thin and wiry, with darting eyes that widened at the sight of the approaching group.He wore jeans that hung loose on his frame and a faded t-shirt that had seen better days.His steps faltered when he spotted them.