Twenty-Three
AFTER HELEN CALLS DAN, telling him to send a uniform to take Vic Harvey’s statement and to find a sketch artist—Myerton Police is too small to employ one full time, but they contract with an instructor from the Myer College Fine Arts Department—we take the box I found and start back to town.
“We don’t have to go tonight,” I say as I look through Trey’s papers. “I’m sure Bethany would understand.”
“Ha! From what I’ve heard, Bethany would probably be glad I’m not there,” Helen replies.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, nothing. Just that it’s pretty well known in the department that Bethany likes to indulge in the use of some mind-altering substances.”
I lay the papers I’m looking at in my lap. “Bethany’s an addict?” I say, genuinely shocked.
“Oh, nothing like that. She doesn’t us
