Chapter 42
Brosterhouse rolled his eyes at the small-town triumphalism of it all. It was like a football player doing a victory dance after a three-yard gain. Solving murders should be treated like it was just part of the job. Apparently, that was not the case in Bend.
He made his way through the cheering crowd to Captain Anderson’s office. The older cop wasn’t joining in the celebration, he noticed. He closed the door and sat down.
“What are you going to do about it?” Brosterhouse asked.
“Do about what?” Anderson didn’t look like he’d slept. He was a couple of years away from retirement, Brosterhouse realized with sudden insight; he didn’t want to rock the boat.
“About this phony arrest!” Brosterhouse raised his voice and Anderson frowned.
“Phony? The guy ran; he was hiding. He was
