Leads

After I get back to the car, I stay slumped in the driver's seat while looking off toward the country club. I can feel something is off and it's nagging at me in the back of my mind. I contemplate what to do next and my obvious answer is to confide in Ryan. I don't want him thinking I am back to poking around in Poppy's business but her link to the society has me tethered to her case.

I decide to pay Ryan a visit and drive to the station. Ryan's office only sits a couple miles outside of town, so it doesn't take long to drive down. I glance up to the trees I pass overhead and notice the change in colors. Soon Halloween decor will be covering the town's buildings and the Great Pumpkin Festival will take over the town square. It occurs to me that a year ago, I was sipping hot cider and picking pumpkins with Jackson and Whitney. And now, I'll be strolling the haystacks with Ryan, Austin, Margot Hamilton and a pregnant Annabeth. Oh, how things can change in a year!

At the thought of Jackson, I realize he may know where Poppy used to keep Historical Society information. I'd really rather not call Abigail Penderghast and bother her with something like this. The woman has enough to deal with right now.

I link my phone up so the sound comes out of my momma's speakers and call Jackson. I'm assuming it's going to go to voicemail, but he picks up at the last second.

"Sawyer," is all he says and I roll my eyes.

"Hey Jackson, gotta minute?" I ask him and he lets out a small grunt in response.

"I was calling because I was looking for old Historical Society documents. I'm not trying to be insensitive here, but Poppy had what we are looking for and so I wondered if you knew where she used to keep documents for the club?" I ask him and I hear him sigh on the other end. Then he replies, "She used to carry everything around in manila folders, but I don't know where she kept the folders. I'm going to assume her house."

I bite my lip. I was afraid I was going to have to reach out to the Penderghasts. I decide not to confide in Jackson as I don't want him sniffing around in Poppy's case. Ryan would not be pleased.

"That's what I thought. You don't think it would be crass of me to call and ask to see her room, do you?" I ask.

"It might be packed up. They were planning to start their move to Oxford this weekend. I'm thinking they aren't going to want you rifling through boxes," he says and I nod in agreement. Then he adds, "But hey, maybe they came across her folders and know where they put 'em. Maybe you can call and see if they saw anything?"

"Yeah, I might do that then. Lucy tried to get the information from her laptop but the police denied the request."

"Doesn't surprise me," he mutters and as I pull up to the police station I say, "Well, thanks for answering your phone, Jackson."

"I never thought you actually had anything to do with it, Sawyer," Jackson says, catching me off guard.

"Anything to do with what?" I ask.

"Poppy's death. I know I flipped out on you at the winery, but it was more of me hoping the rumor was true than me thinking you hurt Poppy," he confesses and I stay frozen in my seat. Silence fills the car for a moment and then I say, "I'm sorry I got your hopes up, Jackson. It was petty of me to try and break you two up over a lie."

"My mother told me everything. I know why you did it. I just wanted you to know that I know you didn't hurt Poppy. So, I didn't tell the police anything about the deal you made with my mother. That can stay between us," he says softly. I'm actually surprised at how mature Jackson is acting. Or maybe if he confesses my deal to the police, it could also seem like Mrs. Hemming may have played a part in Poppy's death. Maybe he's saving her reputation and I am just a lucky consequence of that.

"Well, for everyone's sake I hope they solve this thing soon. Are you going to come to the Wellington House grand re-opening? I am planning it," I tell him and I hear a light laugh from him.

"My mother practically paid for the entire garden area. I'm sure I will be forced to be there."

Suddenly I get an idea. That nagging in the back of my mind has sprung forward and something comes to me. I quickly ask, "How much did your mother donate to the Wellington House to be used for the garden area?"

"That's a tacky question, Sawyer," Jackson replies flatly and I know the Hemming's don't throw money around in conversation lightly.

"Can you find out? It could be important." I beg and I hear him mull it over for a second so I continue, "Ask your mother how much she donated because Poppy's records are gone and we want to make sure we stay on budget. Tell her I am asking on official Historical Society business."

"Fine. But you should really call her yourself," he says and I roll my eyes.

"I've been on the phone too much lately and if you could just ask her, it's one less phone call I have to make today."

He grunts again but I know he'll do it.

"Call ya after I talk to her," he says and then the line goes dead. I push the car door open and I'm glad the sun isn't instantly melting me into a puddle today. I am enjoying the pleasant autumn weather.

I push the door to the police station open and memories of my rescue from the boathouse come pouring back. It seems like I sat on those hard plastic chairs while watching Ryan have a meltdown in the captain's office forever ago.

I stroll up to the front desk that sits in the center of the first floor and get the attention of the young officer typing away behind a small computer monitor.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" He asks me and I nod.

"Yes, I am here to see Special Agent Ryan Hart."

"He expecting you?" He asks with a twist of his face. I'm distracted by the thick brown mustache tickling the man's nose but I look back to his questioning stare and reply, "No, but I know he'll want to see me. Tell him Sawyer Sweeney is here to see him. It's important."

He puckers his lips together as if asking him to call Ryan down is really an awful task to be given. I just smile and wait while he calls for him over a walkie-talkie. I hear Ryan reply that he'll be right down and then I make myself comfortable in one of the waiting chairs.

I can see Ryan's surprise to see me here in the police station, so I grin when I see him.

"I promise that I am behaving myself today, but I needa talk to you."

He gives me a worried look and then says, "Must be important if you sought me out at work."

"It has to do with your work. I might have something that could be of interest in Poppy's case."

I catch his frown before he says, "You need to be worrying about the Wellington House remember? You need to stay focused if you want that winery."

"I am staying focused. And me planning the party could have just opened up a whole new can of worms in Poppy's case. I may have just stumbled on to something," I tell him eagerly and he looks to me while his hands sit on his hips. I notice the gun holster strapped around his back and his badge is clipped to the front of his jeans. He hasn't looked this official since I watched him storm the schoolhouse in his navy F.B.I windbreaker.

"I wouldn't come to your work if I didn't think it might be important," I tell him seriously and he finally nods before leading me back to his office.