Guarded Secrets. Leann Harris

“It is, but sometimes our customers run late or change their mind. The team radioed in and told us they were about a half hour behind their normal schedule. I’ve radioed their morning clients about the delay.”

      “Since that team is going to be late, we’d like to interview some of the other teams and see if they can tell us anything,” Jon announced.

      Sands didn’t look happy. “Sure. Drive around back and talk to whomever you need to.”

      The detectives walked back to their car.

      Dave met Jon’s gaze over the roof of the car. “We have a reluctant boss. Why?”

      “I wonder if we’ll get to talk to all the team members,” Jon replied. They glanced around the lot. An armored car drove in and pulled into the garage. “Maybe we should check out who is on that team.”

      “I like your thinking.”

      The detectives walked around the building to the garage. Several armored cars were parked at the loading dock and inside the garage. They could hear the men joking with each other. Jon and Dave walked up the concrete steps to the loading dock. One of the men looked up and his hand went to his sidearm.

      “We’re Albuquerque police detectives,” Jon offered to disarm the situation. He pulled out his police ID and showed it to the man.

      The man let his arm drop.

      Jon said, “We’re here to ask a few questions about Peter Burkstrom.”

      “He worked here only a couple of months,” the man offered.

      “And he wasn’t on our team,” another man replied. He sat on a wooden box. Several other boxes had been pulled up to an old table. Three other men sat around the table. A couple of men stood behind it.

      “We realize that,” said Dave. “But we wanted to see if any of you might recall some incident where Peter might have had a problem with someone?”

      Jon stood back and carefully watched the reactions of the men. Most of the men shook their heads, but one man in the back shoved his hands into his pockets. He didn’t offer any explanation, but Jon wanted to talk to him.

      Jon and Dave pulled each of the men aside to talk to them privately. The third man Jon interviewed was the man who had aroused his suspicions.

      “Do you know anyone who might’ve had something against Burkstrom?” Jon asked.

      The man hesitated.

      “If you know anything, no matter how insignificant, tell me. It might be the key to Pete’s death.”

      “About a month ago, Pete had a bad argument with one of his team members.”

      “Who was that?”

      “His name is Jimmy Hughes. When they got back from a run, Jimmy jumped all over Pete, calling him stupid and saying that if ‘that’ happened again, he would report Pete to the office.”

      “You don’t know what the argument was about?” Jon asked, pressing.

      “No, and when I tried to talk to Pete about it, he told me it was nothing and not to worry about it.”

      “Did anything else happen?”

      The man shook his head. “No. I watched Pete and Jimmy after that, but whatever their differences were, they seemed to patch it up.”

      “Thanks.”

      The man shrugged and walked away.

      Before Jon could talk to Dave, the armored car they’d been waiting for drove up. The team of four men piled out of the vehicle.

      “I could eat your and my lunch,” one of the men on the team commented.

      They walked up the steps and greeted the other men.

      “It looks like a funeral in here. What’s wrong?” the hungry man commented.

      Jon stepped forward. “Detective Sandoval and I are here to talk to you about Pete Burkstrom.”

      None of the team members who’d just arrived looked happy or willing to talk.

      Jon and Dave each took an employee aside and started questioning them.

      A few minutes later, Jon studied Jimmy Hughes. “Did you like Peter Burkstrom?”

      Jimmy glanced at one of his teammates, who was talking to Dave.

      Jon didn’t push him. The man had something to say, and he needed the space to say it.

      “No.” Jimmy looked down at his hands.

      “You wanted him dead?”

      Jimmy’s head jerked up. “No. He was killed in a robbery gone bad.”

      “Maybe not.”

      The color drained from Jimmy’s face. “You blowing smoke?”