"I've known that girl since she was in pigtails," Walter told Thornton, standing tall despite his seventy-four years. "She helped an old man across a parking lot years before anyone knew her name."
Thornton held up a hand. "Walter, I'm already leaning your way."
"Then lean faster," Walter said. "Community Cup starts at 2:00."
"I hear you," Thornton said. "Give me the morning. I want this airtight before I sign anything."
Walter nodded once, though his jaw stayed tight with worry. He had waited long enough for one lifetime; an hour felt like a very long time right now.
A call came back from the bank on Fifth Street just before 8:00. The teller remembered the transaction clearly, mostly because the account was so new: a young man, not Vivian, had presented the slip the day before, cap pulled low over his face. He had used a name that did not match any face on file. The teller had processed it anyway, trusting the paperwork the way tellers usually do.
"Description matches one of the Colton boy's friends," the deputy said, reading his notes. "Teller's willing to make a statement."
Thornton exhaled slowly, another piece sliding into place. "Add it to the file," he said. "Same as Ruth's."
Two deputies found Tyler Reeves and Cody Dunn at a gas station on the edge of town, filling up before what they thought was a normal day. Neither of them ran; neither of them had much backbone for lying once a badge showed up.
"We didn't write anything," Cody said quickly, hands raised. "We just delivered an envelope. Guy gave us 500 bucks each and told us not to ask questions."
"What guy?" the deputy asked.
Tyler and Cody exchanged a look. "Didn't give us a name," Tyler said. "Just said he worked for the Coltons. Paid cash, told us where to leave it and when."
The deputy wrote it all down, unimpressed by the excuse, relieved to have it on record. "You two are looking at obstruction charges at minimum," he said. "Might want to start being a lot more cooperative from here on out."
Cody swallowed hard. "We're cooperating. We're cooperating."
Delia arrived at 8:30, out of breath, laptop bag swinging off her shoulder. "I've got something," she said, setting her laptop on the counter. "Footage from the electronics shop across from the dojang. Owner keeps a camera pointed at the street for insurance purposes."
She pulled up the file. The grainy video showed a delivery truck parked across from the dojang, engine idling. Two figures climbed out; one slipped through the dojang door with an envelope tucked under his jacket.
Thornton paused the footage, zooming in as far as the resolution allowed. "That's Tyler Reeves," he said quietly. "And that's Cody Dunn."
"Same two men from the gas station camera," Delia said. "Same two men from the grocery store video last week."
Thornton sat back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. "Anyone talked to these two yet?" he asked.
"Not yet," Delia said. "Figured that was your job, not mine."
Thornton allowed himself a tired half-smile. "Fair enough." He picked up the phone. "Get me Vivian Hale," he said to the deputy. "Now. And somebody find Tyler Reeves and Cody Dunn before this town does it for us."
Vivian stepped out of the holding cell just after 9:00. She blinked against the light of the front office. Arthur was already there, standing the moment the door opened.
"Dad," she said, voice cracking slightly.