Honor And Defend. Lynette Eason

time.”

      “A name, Lee.”

      He sighed. “Freddie Parrish.”

      She lifted a brow. “Freddie Parrish? Wait a minute. I know him. We went to high school with him.”

      “Yep. He and I graduated together. I kind of lost track of him after high school, though. We went our separate ways.”

      “Yeah. You went to college.”

      “Yes.”

      “And so did Freddie, for a while. He had options. He could have finished school. He could have just gone to work if he didn’t want to do school. I wonder what made him turn to a life of crime.”

      He shook his head. “Some people just make bad decisions, get mixed up with the wrong people. I don’t know.” He rubbed his chin. “You know, they offered a lot of college courses at the prison.”

      “Sure, I know that. Including the vet tech program through one of the local colleges in Flagstaff.”

      He nodded. “A lot of the inmates take advantage of it to get their education. It gives them hope that when they get out, they can stay straight and get a good job.”

      “I think it’s a great idea.”

      “I know Freddie took a couple of the courses, and was even real close to finishing the program before he was recruited to work with the program’s veterinarian, who took care of the puppies.”

      “What was he in prison for?” she asked.

      “He had several DUIs and had gotten off with fines the first couple of times. Then he got into a bar fight with a guy who was supposed to be a friend and cut him with broken bottle. The judge gave him three years. He served all three.”

      She tapped the wheel. “We’ll check him out, see if he has an alibi for the shooting.” She handed him her phone. “Send a text to the chief with the information, will you? Tell him I want Freddie brought in for questioning.”

      Lee did as she’d asked.

      She drove with confidence, and then he caught her looking at him from the corner of her eye. “What?” he asked.

      “Don’t take this the wrong way, but did you renew your friendship with Freddie in prison?”

      Her question rocked him and he shot her a black look. “No, we didn’t renew our friendship. The only reason I was ever around him was because he was a vet tech for the Prison Pups program. We worked together and that was it. I liked the program. Sophie Williams is a good woman and amazing with the dogs. I kept my mouth shut and my head down because I didn’t want to lose out on the only thing that allowed me to forget—if just for a brief moment—what my life had become.”

      She swallowed and looked down. “I understand.”

      “No. You don’t. And I hope you never do. Anyway, I caught Freddie mistreating the animals and told Sophie. She was furious and kicked him out of the program.”

      She pursed her lips and raised a brow. “I would think that might cause him to hold a grudge.”

      “Yes, but he doesn’t strike me as the type to work alone.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “He’s a bully only when he feels like his victims won’t—or can’t—fight back or when he knows someone’s got his back. In prison, during the time in the yard, he only hung around with those he’d earned favor with.”

      “Earned favor with?”

      Lee sighed. “You’ve been in law enforcement long enough to know that prison has its own culture. There are rules and regulations just like on the outside, but they’re tailored for prison life. It looked like Freddie was behaving himself. It looked like he was a model prisoner, but mostly that was because he was so sneaky. He never got caught doing anything wrong—until I caught him being rough with the pups. But he had access to areas of the prison that others didn’t have. As a result, he was able to gather information that he could either use to gain favor with those who had more clout than himself or sell to the highest bidder.”

      “I see. He had friends who would watch his back so he could continue his sneaky activities. Friends that would do his dirty work if he needed them to.”

      “Exactly.”

      Ellen frowned. “Okay. Hopefully the chief will have someone bring him—and whoever was with him—in for questioning soon.”

      “Hopefully.” He rubbed a hand through his hair. “And now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to change the subject,” he said.

      “All right. What is it?”

      “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but you cops are looking at the wrong people for suspects in Veronica’s murder.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “You’re looking at the troublemakers, the people with grudges—and that’s a list a mile long and is going to take forever to cover. You need to be looking at the not so obvious.”

      “We’re running the investigation exactly as it’s supposed to be run.”

      “I know that’s what you think, but I’m not sure I agree.” He held up a hand. “No, I’m not a cop and, no, I haven’t been trained in criminal investigation, but I can’t help thinking that you need to be looking at Veronica’s last day. Who did she come into contact with? Who did she speak with? Interact with? Fight with?”

      Ellen pulled up at his house and simply sat while she digested his words. He watched her mull them over and knew she was formulating a response to appease him. He let her think while he looked at his home trying to see it through her eyes.

      He loved what he’d managed to do with it. Now it had an outbuilding attached to a kennel. The exercise areas were fenced in and ready to see action. He’d built a good business before he’d been incarcerated.

      His gaze wandered to the small three-bedroom ranch house that he’d grown up in. One her mother considered to be on the wrong side of town, but one where he knew Ellen had found acceptance and many hours of happiness—as long as Veronica wasn’t home. They’d all been happier when his sister hadn’t been home. Guilt hit him at the thought and he grimaced.

      “I hear what you’re saying, Lee, I do,” Ellen said. “And we’re looking into all of that. I promise we’re doing our job.”

      “I’m not saying you’re not. I’m simply saying your focus is in the wrong place. Ordinary people can snap when pushed too far, not just the troublemakers.” He’d learned that in prison.

      She sighed. “I don’t know what else to tell you. We’re aware of this. We’re working on it. Investigations take time.” She tapped her fingers on the wheel. “Okay, I’ll tell you this.” She paused.

      “Tell me what?”

      “One thing that’s really got our attention is the break-ins that are happening all around town. I’m sure you’ve heard of them.”

      “Yes, of course.” Everyone in town was on edge due to the break-ins.

      “There’s been a rash of them,” she said. “Residents are worried and so are the cops. We understand their need to protect their property and their families, but we also don’t need a trigger-happy home owner accidentally shooting his neighbor.”

      He grunted and climbed from the truck. “A valid concern. On both sides. But what do the break-ins have to do with the investigation into my sister’s murder?”

      “They’re not your average, run-of-the-mill break-ins. The people doing them don’t steal anything. Yes, if there’s some cash lying around, they take it, but they don’t steal expensive electronics that could be easily fenced or even things like jewelry. One woman had a thousand-dollar diamond necklace