“He was a sloppy, crooked cop,” Matt said.
Oscar had failed to follow procedures on several occasions. Bree had issued him multiple warnings. Finally, he’d mislabeled evidence in a major case, rendering that evidence inadmissible. Suspecting he’d intentionally contaminated the evidence to protect a buddy, Bree had put him on leave, but the prosecutor hadn’t wanted to pursue formal charges. By mutual agreement, Oscar had retired.
Bree shrugged. “We can’t prove the crooked part. For some, refusing to follow procedure is ‘fucking technical bullshit.’” Her fingers curled into air quotes. “Quite a few of my critics say he was set up and fired because he refused to ‘cave to political correctness.’ I’ve been blasted for hiring female deputies and expecting the taxpayers to foot the bill for a separate locker room.” Bree shook her head. “I still have a hard time believing the department didn’t employ a single female deputy until after I took office.”
But Matt believed it. Easily. “Is forensics having any luck tracking the senders?”
“No. I’ve only sent Rory the worst ones, which we believe are from one individual. I don’t have the resources to track down every insult from a disgruntled jerk with an anonymous email account.”
“I guess not.” But Matt wanted to.
“And if I did, I’d be accused of trying to silence my critics.” Her lips flattened. “Sheriff is an elected office. I’m tried in the court of public opinion.”
It was very difficult to get rid of an elected official, which was why the former sheriff had been able to get away with so much corruption for decades. His popularity had soared with every accusation of excessive use of force. Even after his crimes were made public, not everyone believed he’d been guilty. They insisted he’d been set up.
“I don’t like it either, but I don’t have the skill set to find him. I have to trust Rory to do his job.” Bree glanced at Matt. “Look, I’ve been dealing with sexists my whole professional life, and this is not the first time I’ve been threatened in my law enforcement career. I’m hoping this jerk just wants to vent.”
Matt gestured at her phone. “I don’t think this is venting.” He had a very bad feeling. “This is a deliberate, specific threat.”
And it was disturbing as hell.
“Agreed, but we have a murder to solve. We’ll have to worry about dick pics and nasty messages later.”
“And the direct threat of violence to you?”
Her mouth flattened into a grim line. “Still takes a back seat to murder. Forensics is on it. I don’t have the manpower to do more. My house and family are well secured, and I’ll take extra care with myself. None of the haters have ever followed through.”
Yet.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Matt conceded her point with a single nod, but he would never accept that threats of violence were simply part of Bree’s job.
She blew a hair off her forehead. “Now, what do we know about Oscar’s ex-wife?”
Matt used the dashboard computer. He began with motor vehicle records and expanded from there. “Heather Oscar is forty-seven years old. She drives a 2012 Honda Accord. As far as I can tell from a cursory search, she is squeaky clean. I don’t even see a single traffic ticket.”
“Does she work?”
“She’s a librarian, and she’s been employed by the county for twenty years.”
Matt plugged Oscar’s ex-wife’s address into the GPS. He glanced at the dashboard clock. It was nine o’clock. “Hopefully, she didn’t already leave for work.”
“And didn’t watch the news this morning,” Bree added.
Technically, the ex-wife wasn’t official next of kin, so waking her in the middle of the night hadn’t been warranted. But Matt wanted to observe her when she learned of Oscar’s death. He wanted to see her respond to the news before she had time to think about the ramifications. Before she had time to mentally prepare for their visit or rehearse her response.
Ten minutes later, they stepped out of the vehicle and walked onto the cracked concrete sidewalk of a small apartment complex. Matt scanned the area. Most of the vehicles were inexpensive or older models. Four plain brick buildings were arranged around a rectangular patch of weedy grass.
“Crighton said Oscar complained about excessive alimony.” Bree frowned. “Whatever Heather was doing with all that money, she wasn’t spending it on rent.”
“These are not luxury units,” Matt agreed.