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“I understand from Mr. Glassman that you’re the one who brought JFA into the game. Did your father ask you to do that?”
She laughed at that, but it was laughter without humor. “Hardly,” she said. “I did that all on my own. Besides, when would he have asked? I’ve never met the man. He’s in prison for life without parole, and he refuses to allow me to visit.”
Brandon was taken aback. “You’ve never met him?”
“Not once.”
“Then why did you go to the trouble of enlisting JFA’s help?”
“I already answered that. John Lassiter is my last living relative—the only one. If I can get him released from prison, maybe I’ll have a chance to get to know him.”
“How did all this come about then?”
Amanda shrugged. “I’m a librarian. What can I tell you? When I learned who my birth father was and he then refused to see me, I started doing what librarians do best—research. I went back through newspaper accounts of everything I could find related to Amos Warren’s homicide and the resulting criminal trials. I also learned everything I could about John Lassiter and his circle of acquaintances.” She reached over, removed the top from the box, extracted a single item—a book—and moved the box in Brandon’s direction. “This contains hard copies of everything I found. I’ve made digital copies as well.”
Peering inside, Brandon saw that the box was jammed with files.
“This is the only thing for which I don’t have a digitized copy.”
She handed him the book. It was a paperback with a plain gold cover. The only words on the cover were Lawmen Gone Bad, by Randall Hardy. Uncorrected proof.
“I thought that book was never published?” Brandon asked.
“It was, but only just. It was printed, but all the copies were bought up before they were shipped to the stores. It was pulled prior to publication,” Amanda explained. “Evidently pressure was brought to bear, and the copies that had been printed were shredded. This copy—a galley copy—survived. When I was doing my research, I read the complete papers from begi
“He was still living here in town at the time. He’d had several other books published after the first one disappeared. I made an appointment with him on the basis of asking for his papers to be donated to Special Collections at the U of A library. He seemed cordial enough and said I was welcome to what he had. When I made the mistake of asking about Lawmen in particular, he went ballistic. He said he’d burned everything that had anything to do with that ‘goddamned book,’ quote unquote, and that he wished he’d never written it.”
“Slight overreaction?” Brandon asked.
Amanda nodded. “That sent me looking. The publisher was a local outfit that went out of business shortly after all this happened. That piqued my curiosity, too. I wondered if the two were related, and that sent me off on a search for the book itself. The book’s initial print run was small, so there weren’t many review copies printed either—twenty to fifty at most. Fortunately for me, there are people out in the world of dead tree books who specialize in collecting review copies. I paid a lot of money for this one, but that’s where I found the co
“I understand Jack DuShane is in here, too?”
Amanda nodded. “He’s there as one of the bad guys. By the way,” she added, “you’re notably absent.”
“Sheriff DuShane and I were never on the best of terms.”
“When I read the book, I realized that all those folks—the sheriff, the prosecutor, the people ru
“And you got nowhere?”
“Correct, but maybe you’ll have better luck.”
“Because I was sheriff once upon a time? I wouldn’t count on it. Is your father aware of any of this?”
“I’m not sure. He might have heard about it through Mr. Glassman, but I certainly haven’t shown it to him.”
“And did you reach any conclusions?”
“Yes, I did. I think Ava Martin bears some looking into. There’s a file in there about her, too. I suggest you go through the material on your own and decide for yourself. Just for the record, though, you should be aware that there’s at least one other unsolved homicide involved in this case. Ke
“His death is spookily similar to Amos Warren’s in that his remains went undiscovered for a number of years. Then, when his body was found, the case was never solved. It’s only a few years ago now since those remains were linked up to a missing persons case filed by Ke
Brandon had been busily taking notes. “I believe it’s time for me to go see your father,” he said.
Amanda smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“What about this?” he asked, reaching for the box and tapping the lid. “You said I should draw my own conclusions. Does that mean you’ll let me go through what you’ve gathered?”
She nodded. “You’re welcome to all of it,” she said, “even this.” She placed the book in the box before closing the lid. “I’m a librarian, though. That means I want it all back. When all this is over, I may use it to write my own damn book.”
Brandon stood up and hefted the box. “Assuming I do see your father—your birth father—is there anything you’d like me to tell him?”
“Yes,” Amanda Wasser said. “Tell him that someday I’d like to meet him.”
Brandon’s phone rang while he was loading the box into the Escalade. Diana’s name appeared on the screen. “Hey,” he said. “How’s the festival going?”
“Busy, and there’s a new wrinkle. Someone is holding an impromptu di
“You’ve got that right.”
“The thing is, I won’t be finished until nine or so. Do you mind coming back into town to pick me up or should I make arrangements for someone to give me a ride?”
“Tell me where and when. I’ll be there with bells on.”
Brandon glanced at his watch as he got into the SUV. It wasn’t noon yet. Rather than having to go back to the festival midafternoon, he now had several hours to do entirely as he pleased. He could go home and spend the afternoon poring through the banker’s box, or he could speak to John Lassiter, the person most directly involved in the case. In the end, he literally tossed a coin. Heads, drive to Florence; tails, go home. The coin toss came up heads.
GABE LAY ON HIS BED, playing with his Xbox. His mom was mad at him. Lani was mad at him. Probably everyone in the whole world was mad at him, including Tim. They often hung out together on Saturdays, usually at Gabe’s house rather than at the Josés’ place. Without Mrs. José or Mrs. Francisco there to look after things, going to Tim’s house wasn’t much fun anymore. One of the big attractions in the José household had always been the food. Now, with Carlos in charge, the food at Tim’s house wasn’t very good.