CHAPTER 3Back in his room he decided enough time had passed and he called Maravich, who told him to give him another half hour and then he could come by the station at his convenience. Frank was there in thirty-five minutes.
He was escorted to a small but comfortable conference room. He couldn’t help but compare its well-kept cleanliness to the bare-bones-functional rooms of his own unit back home.
Maravich sat at a table with the stocky uniformed man Frank had seen earlier. The man rose and extended his hand. “You must be Detective Vandegraf, right?”
“Frank Vandegraf. You can call me Frank.”
“Sheriff Rick Riculla, Frank.” His bushy mustache and matching eyebrows were iron gray. The man seemed friendly enough but reserved. “Lee’s filled me in on who you are and why you are in town. My
