Dean tried a shot. "Do you own that storage facility where they were kept?" He was met with a blank stare but kept going. "I know about the vodka. And I can prove it. There wasn't any liquor at the accident site when I left and you said a bottle had been found."
There was the first glimmer of doubt in Fitzgerald's eye. He thought before answering and then smiled. "There was when the wreck was hauled into storage. Besides, no one will remember what was said at the debate. It's the word of a dick head against the sheriff."
"I have a tape of the entire debate. I can't prove why you caused Billy Langstrom's death but I know you chased him off the road and I think I know why."
"You don't know shit."
A crackle on the radio interrupted any response. Lydia Larkin's voice broke the silence.
"Fitz? This is Larkin. Are you there? Over."
Fitzgerald glared at Dean and reached for the microphone. "Sheriff Fitzgerald here. What are you doing? You're off duty. Over."
"I'm giving our friends from the state a tour. They said it was okay to drive the vehicle. I'm just checking in. Over."
"Where are you? Over."
"That's the funny thing, Fitz. I'm right by where Billy Langstrom went over the side and I can read you loud and clear."