A Finder's Fee by Jim Lavene, Joyce Read Free Book Online Page B

department. We found it recently as the old records are being computerized.”
    I looked at the yellowed paper. Some of the typewritten words were a little smeared. But it was clearly a missing person’s report filed for Joe Walsh of Manteo by his sister, Pam Walsh.
Six foot three, one hundred and sixty pounds. Black hair. Blue eyes. Anchor tattoo on his upper left arm.
    “You can see the report was filed the same night of the race Mr. O’Donnell was talking about, April 12, 1971,” Luke pointed out. “In other words, Mad Dog’s number twelve car and Joe Walsh went missing the same night.”
    “That’s when you didn’t have to wait forty-eight hours to report a missing person.” Chief Michaels said it fondly, as though missing those days when he was a sheriff’s deputy.
    “I guess no one followed up on it,” Gramps said. “We were overburdened in those days, since we were pretty much the only law enforcement on the island.”
    “There were ten subsequent reports filed by Pam Walsh.” Luke pulled out more reports. “Miss Walsh tried to find her brother over the period of the next five years. We only found a few of those reports. No action was taken on any of them.”
    I felt bad for Gramps. He wasn’t sheriff back then, but he was a deputy. I didn’t know about the other reports, but the one Luke had given me was signed by Horace O’Donnell, Deputy.
    The spotlight was on him now. As much as I hated everyone looking at me, I would’ve taken it back to give him some breathing room if I could.
    No one said anything. It had all happened a long time ago—except that we found the number twelve car tonight.
    “The medical examiner is doing tests on the remains as we speak.” Luke put away his paperwork. “We hope to have a preliminary identification of the body very soon. As Chief Michaels mentioned, I’ll need statements from each of you about what happened this evening. If the body in the car turns out to be Joe Walsh, you may each be part of a murder investigation.”
    “Has anyone spoken to Mad Dog?” Gramps asked.
    “No,” Luke answered. “And we’d appreciate it if none of you try to go around this process and contact him. My office, and Chief Michaels, will take care of that when the time is right.”
    Luke gave us each a sheet of paper and asked us to write our statements and sign them. I could only imagine what Flourine’s statement would read—
Came here looking for a witch and found a dead man in a race car.
Would she go on to tell them about her own magical abilities?
    I managed to put down what I’d told the chief in a neat paragraph, then signed and dated it. I knew what governmental bodies were looking for.
    Everyone finally went home around midnight. I had a few stern looks from Shayla and Ann as well as a flutter of feathers from Flourine. Kevin hugged me before he left and said he’d call in the morning. Luke left with Chief Michaels.
    Gramps collapsed into his recliner, exhausted. “That was quite a workout.”
    I sat on the sofa across from him. “Your name was on that report. I guess they won’t hold it against you, huh?”
    “Don’t worry so much. Like I said, there was a lot going on back then. That’s why most of the towns got their own police force. We didn’t have the money or the manpower to keep up. We probably got hundreds of reports like that every week. It’s a shame it had to be that way, but there wasn’t much we could do about it.”
    “I’m guessing that was Luke’s casual way of saying Mad Dog could be a suspect in Joe Walsh’s death?”
    “Sounds like it to me. I’m surprised Sheriff Riley wasn’t out here with them. It was a case originally brought to the sheriff’s department, which he could take to be in his jurisdiction, even though it happened before he was sheriff. Finding the car in Duck makes it Ronnie’s case now.”
    “Do you think Mad Dog killed Joe Walsh? Could he have been that angry about him constantly winning?”
    “I don’t