“Let’s not get off track. The fake porn is bad, but it seems to be directed only at me. So, there’s no evidence that it’s related to his murder.” Bree paused. “Are any of the deputies still close to Oscar?”
Matt shook his head. “No. The deputies who were part of the old guard left.”
“Do you know where they are now?”
“No. They haven’t kept in touch. I was never really in the boys’ club.” Matt had long suspected the former sheriff had intentionally put him in the way of friendly fire for that very reason.
“What about Jim Rogers?” Bree asked. “Was he one of the boys?”
“He was.”
“He’s been out on disability, but he worked with Oscar for a long time. He might know something relevant about his life.”
Rogers was a former deputy who had been shot in the line of duty back in the spring. He’d recovered from his injuries, but continuing issues with post-traumatic stress prevented him from returning to work. Rogers had also been one of the men who’d accidentally shot Matt in the friendly fire incident, and that incident had scarred them both. Rogers had apologized to Matt, but there was still awkwardness between them.
“Have you seen him recently?” She glanced at him.
“I ran into him about a month ago in town. We didn’t say much more than hi. How about you?”
Bree shook her head. “I get official notifications on his disability status. That’s it, but then, I don’t know him very well. He didn’t work for me for long before he was shot.”
“Do you want to call him into the station or talk to him at his home?” Matt asked.
Bree’s brow furrowed. “At his home, I think. He’ll talk more where he’s comfortable.”
“He’s north of town.” Matt looked up the address and entered it in the GPS.
Fifteen minutes later, as they approached the property, Matt spotted a driveway marked by a red mailbox shaped like a barn. “There it is.”
“I don’t want to push Rogers too hard, but we need answers. You’ve known him longer than I have. I’ll follow your lead on that.”
Bree slowed and turned down a narrow gravel lane that cut through the trees. The isolation of the property didn’t surprise Matt. Rogers was an avid hunter and had been the best tracker in the department. He liked space. The lane opened into a large, neat clearing. The front lawn was thick, green, and free of fallen leaves. The one-story home was more cabin than house. Made of natural wood, it looked as if it had grown there.
As they parked, the front door opened, and Jim Rogers walked out onto the small front porch. A yellow lab pup raced past his legs to the grass as Matt and Bree climbed out of the vehicle. The pup stopped in a sprawl of uncoordinated limbs, then attacked Matt’s foot.
“How old?” Matt crouched and disentangled the pup’s teeth from his bootlace.
“Four months. She’s a holy terror.” But Rogers’s smile was full of affection.
Waving paws far too large for her body, the puppy rolled over for a belly rub.
Bree stopped next to Matt. She leaned over to give the dog a pat. “I can see she’s vicious.”
Rogers shrugged and walked toward them. “She’s a lab. They’re generally friendly if people don’t ruin them.”
Matt straightened and studied Rogers. The former deputy looked rough. An outdoorsman, Rogers was normally fit and lean. He’d lost weight from a frame that couldn’t spare any. His cheeks were gaunt, and his eyes hollow. In the past, Matt had seen Rogers track a suspect all day long through the woods without tiring. Now, his steps dragged with exhaustion.
A month ago, when Matt had run into him, Rogers hadn’t looked this bad. Something had changed.
The puppy peed in the grass.
Rogers praised her. “Good girl.” He held out a hand to Matt. “Nice to see you.”
Matt, then Bree, shook it.
The puppy romped after a butterfly. Rogers turned back toward the cabin and started across the grass. As he went up the porch steps, he whistled. The dog bolted toward him. She stumbled up the steps, slid to a sloppy stop, and nearly crashed into the wall.
“I assume you’re here on business.” Rogers opened the front door and gestured for Bree and Matt to follow him inside.
“Yes.” Bree stepped across the threshold. “Unfortunately, this isn’t a social call.”
Matt entered the house. Based on the plain front facade, he hadn’t expected the open floor plan or modern kitchen. Two sets of french doors opened onto a huge deck. Beyond that, sunlight gleamed off a small lake. The puppy scampered into the kitchen and stuck her whole head into a bowl. More water sloshed onto the floor than went into the dog.