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to kill, I decided to stop by the Sheriff’s Office I had passed on Main Street to see if I could get a status on the Diantha Lloyd case. Twelve minutes later, I entered the small office and walked up to the gray-headed attractive lady at the front desk. Betty Smith was on her name tag.

“Good afternoon, Betty. I would like to speak to the detective in charge of the Diantha Lloyd murder case.”

“Just a moment, please.” Betty then began punching keys on her computer keyboard. When she looked up at me, she said, “Detective Fern Rivers is assigned to that case. She is not in the office at this time, but I can give you her contact information.”

“Yes, thank you. That will be nice. I was also wondering if I could get a copy of the police report for that case and the Mildred Lloyd case.”

I knew there were several types of police reports that were exempt from the public. The reason being that revealing such information could weaken an ongoing investigation and bring up all sorts of privacy and safety issues. Nevertheless, I’ve gotten police reports before. Jackson obtained a copy of the police report on Duffy’s murder, though he may have gotten it from Nancy. Since she is family, Nancy requesting the report may have been the quickest and easiest way to get it. My point is that it is not unheard of for police reports to be released to the public.

“Let me speak to the sheriff. He is in his office.” Betty gave me Fern Rivers’ business card, then picked up the phone, dialed a number, then relayed to the person on the other end my request. After hanging up the phone, she said, “The sheriff will be out to talk to you.”

Two minutes later, a White man, potbellied, and baldheaded came rushing down the hallway beside Betty’s desk. I took him to be at least seventy years old. He forcefully pushed through the gate that separated the waiting area from the police area and rushed straight to me. I was the only person in the waiting room.

“I’m Sheriff Hugo Hobbs. I understand you want a copy of the Diantha Lloyd and Mildred Lloyd murders police report,” he said without shaking my hand or providing any societal civilities usually extended to people you are meeting for the first time.

“Yes, Sheriff Hobbs. It is nice to meet you. My name is Vett Brayborn. I am working for Jackson Stevens of the Brightness Bus Tours Company concerning the murder of Duffy Radley.”

“You’re working for old Jackie. Jackie and I go way back.”

“Yes. In my investigation, it has come to my attention that Duffy was a suspect in the Mildred Lloyd murder, and the family believes he was involved in Diantha Lloyd’s murder as well. May I have a copy of each report?”

The sheriff stared at me in disbelief, then said, “We don’t give those reports to the general public.”

“They may be crucial to my investigation. Jackson will speak to you on my behalf.”

The sheriff’s hostile manner soften a bit as he said, “You said your name is Vett Brayborn.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Have a seat a moment. Let me speak to old Jackie.”

I did as he requested. He turned around and pushed through the gate. As he did so, he shouted to the desk clerk, “Betty, get Jackie Stevens on the line for me.”

Ten minutes later, a heavyset, friendly face woman walked down the hallway to the gate and called my name.

“Are you Vett Brayborn?”

“Yes, I am,” I said. There was no one else in the waiting area, but I guess she needed to ask. I got up and walked to the gate.

“The sheriff asked that I give these reports to you.”

“Thank you.” I took the two folders and looked through each briefly. Certain lines of information had been redacted, which meant copies of these documents had already been issued to the general public. I knew this to be true because it would have taken much more time than ten minutes to prepare these censored copies that the bureaucracy thought were suitable for the general public. The Lacecap Hydrangea Murders was highly publicized in the area at the time, so there would have been media people and others wanting a copy of the police reports. Then why didn’t Sheriff Hobbs want to give me the reports? There are people in authority that take too much pleasure in blocking the progress of others, was all I could come up with as an answer.

“Uhm, uhm, is there anything else you need,” the woman asked.

“Are there any costs for these?”

“Not at all.”

“No, there is nothing else I need at this time. Thank you.” I smiled to myself as I walked out of the Sheriff’s Office. Old Jackie had some dirt on Sheriff Hobbs. Why else would Sheriff Hobbs acquiesce so fast? It seems to me Old Jackie is a significant and important wheel in Attribute and Envyton County and accustomed to getting everything he wants.

It was 1:28 pm. Reviewing Joe’s directions and the Envyton map, I estimated that it would take no more than fifteen minutes to get to Joe’s house from the Sheriff’s Office. So I decided to go ahead and drive there, then take a few minutes to read the report on Diantha before knocking on Joe’s door.

Joe’s house was in a much better neighborhood than Marjorie’s house. His Tudor-style house was beautifully maintained on the outside. The yard held two large pear trees on the right side of the driveway. Everything about the view I had of the front of Joe’s property spoke highly of the love and care put into it.

I parked on the same side of the street as his house, a couple of houses down. I opened Diantha’s police report and began reading.

The synopsis stated that the decedent is a thirty-year-old female with no priors found deceased in Mythical Rock State Park by husband and wife joggers __________. The joggers’ names were redacted. The wife called police

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