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the system.”
    “Thanks, Bert. Let me know what you find.”
    “As soon as I know.”
    J.D. hung up and thought about what she had learned. If Linda Favereaux was really Darlene Pelletier, then who the heck was Linda Fournier Favereaux? And where was her husband?
    The chief had not arrived for work at his usual hour of seven o’clock. J.D. checked her watch. It was almost ten. She went to Lester’s office. He still wasn’t in. She stuck her head into the deputy chief’s office. “Martin, have you seen the chief?”
    “I don’t think he’ll be in today. He called. Said he’d talked to the town manager who told him to take the day off.”
    “I’m getting some strange information on that murder yesterday. You got a minute to talk?”
    “Sure. Take a load off.”
    J.D. took a chair across the desk from Sharkey. “I don’t think our victim is who we think she is.”
    “What’s going on?”
    “Her fingerprints came back as belonging to a woman named Darlene Pelletier who was arrested in New Orleans twenty years ago for shoplifting. She was nineteen at the time.”
    “Maybe that was her maiden name.”
    “My report on the husband says he married somebody named Linda Fournier in New Orleans twenty years ago.”
    “What do you make of all this?” Sharkey asked.
    “I don’t know. By the time he got married, Favereaux was a successful businessman. Why would he be marrying a nineteen-year-old shoplifter?”
    “Maybe he didn’t know about that. Maybe she was some kind of debutante who was shoplifting for the fun of it. Do you have any more information on the Pelletier woman?”
    “Not yet. I’ve asked Doc Hawkins to run the fingerprints again. If he confirms that they belong to the Pelletier woman, I’ll dig into her background.”
    “Sounds like you’re doing everything you can at this point.”
    “Can you think of any reason a retired businessman would have a laptop with world-class encryption software?”
    “Nope.”
    “How’s the chief?” J.D. asked.
    Martin gave her a quizzical look.
    “Did Bill tell you why he wasn’t coming in today?” J.D. asked.
    “He did.”
    “Abby?”
    “What do you know?”
    “Not a lot. I know about Abby’s arrest and the charges,” J.D. said. “Matt is going to be representing her.”
    “Bill didn’t mention Matt’s involvement.”
    “He saw Abby at the jail early this morning. I think he was going to see Bill today and let him know he’ll take the case.”
    “I’m glad. There’re not many lawyers as good as Matt.”
    “Have you heard anything more through the grapevine?”
    “No,” he said. “I called a friend of mine at Sarasota PD, and all he could tell me was that FDLE had taken over. He did tell me that Jack Dobbyn had recused himself and the governor got busy first thing this morning and appointed the state attorney from Jacksonville to prosecute the case.”
    “That was quick,” J.D. said.
    “They probably want to move on this one. There’s going to be a lot of press.”
    “I guess. I hope Bill can survive it.”
    “He will, if Matt gets an acquittal.”
    “Matt’s worried about that,” J.D. said. “About both Abby and Bill. It’s a lot of pressure.”
    “Surely he knows that. If it’s a problem, why take the case?”
    “He’s a bit of a cynic about the way law is practiced these days, but he’s a believer in the system. He’s worried that an out-of-control FDLE agent out to get a prominent defendant, coupled with an irresponsible press, is going to make it difficult to get a fair trial. He won’t admit it, but he thinks he’s good enough to overcome all that.”
    “Is he?”
    “You’ve known him a lot longer than I have, Martin. What do you think?”
    Sharkey grinned. “Ain’t nobody better, sweet cheeks.”
    J.D. made a face. “Sweet cheeks?”
    “Well, you know what I mean. Detective.”
    * * *
    J.D.’s cell phone was ringing as she walked back to her office. Robin Hartill. J.D. answered. “Hey,