The phone on the desk rang. “Taylor,” he said by way of greeting.
“Detective Stewart calling from Boulder,” he said, and after a short pause, he added, “Neil for short.” He chuckled.
“Hey, Neil,” Hayes said. “Hayes here. What can I do for you?”
“Hayes, glad to work this case alongside you,” Neil said. “I’m reaching out to see if you’ve gotten anywhere on your end.”
Hayes glanced at the report he’d printed off this morning after the detective had shared the online file. “At the mo
ment, nothing is jumping out at me.”
Neil made a low noise in his throat. “I’m in the same boat over here. I’ve interviewed the three people on the suspects’ list I sent you but have ruled them all out.”
“Good to know.” Hayes tucked the phone between his shoulder and ear. He grabbed that list and scratched out the names, frustrated he didn’t have any names of his own to add to that list. “Any other updates?”
“Prints didn’t turn up anything in the databases. Not that there were that many to begin with. The fire damage, as you saw, was excessive.”
Hayes grabbed the copied photograph of his truck beneath the pile of papers. He loved that truck, but there wasn’t much of it left. A total write-off. He’d got the insurance claim rolling on that this morning. Then he reached for the photograph of Maisie’s trailer. Burned beyond recognition. “You’ll keep me in the loop if anything develops there.”
“Of course. Call too, if you see anything I’m not.”
“Will do.”
“I’m heading home for the night, but I’ll be back in at eight tomorrow morning.”
“Same here. Hopefully, with fresh eyes.”
“Agreed. Have a good night.”
“You too.”
The line went dead. Hayes returned the phone to its base and then rubbed the back of his neck, wishing the answer popped out at him. He wanted to get this solved for Maisie. He needed her to know he’d caught the bastards who’d cut her so deeply.
Laughter coming from the hallway made him lift his head. Three guys strode by, a blur of blue uniforms and weapons, but then suddenly one of those men froze. Hayes chuckled now, as wide eyes greeted him.
“Hey,” Hayes said.
Darryl entered the doorway, his stare incredulous. “All right, I know it’s been a shitty, long day, but you are sitting there, right?”
“As far as I know, yes.” Hayes laughed.
Darryl gave a flick of his chin at the two guys with him. Cops that Hayes had never met, obviously rookies, seeing as they both looked young. Once they continued on down the hallway to the locker room, Darryl leaned against the doorjamb, arms folded. “Something bad must have happened to have you sitting behind a desk with a case in front of you. What’s going on?”
Hayes leaned back against his chair, lacing his hands together behind his head. “Did you hear about my truck and Maisie’s trailer?”
Darryl’s mouth twitched. “Ah, so she’s the reason you finally gave in to your father.”
Hayes snorted and avoided that line of conversation. Instead, he said, “No one was going to work her case, but me.”
Darryl’s head cocked at the statement Hayes made. He finally nodded his understanding and asked, “Have you told Nash?”
“Not yet,” Hayes said, not looking forward to that particular phone call. “I’ll be reaching out soon, but I’m hoping we can work something out to keep me on when he needs me.” He enjoyed the rush and his friendships at the farm. Though, this time, the thought of getting near a dangerous horse, of hurting himself, which would in turn hurt Maisie, made him pause. Those pained eyes of hers were all he could see. “We’ll figure it out,” he finished.
“I’m sure you will.” Darryl smiled. “Well, buddy, it’s damn good to have you here. Are you here to stay?”
Hayes glanced down at the case on the desk. Today, when he’d worked the case, for the first time in years he’d felt…normal. Like he’d come home, and he didn’t know how to process that. “I’ve promised my father six months.”
“Good.” Darryl smacked a hand against the door. “I’m overrun with rookies. It’ll be good to have some backup.”