See Her Die

by Leigh, Melinda

  Todd slid into the chair, opened the file, and scanned the page. “Fingerprints found on the jewelry belong to Sara Harper of Scarlet Falls. Sara is a twenty-one-year-old with an arrest record.”

  Bree leaned over to see the file.

  Todd tapped on a page. “She’s been arrested three times for petty theft, and once each for shoplifting and prostitution.”

  “Did she go to jail?” Bree asked.

  Todd shook his head. “The charges were dropped twice. The other cases were plea-bargained down to probation and community service. One of the larceny charges involved Sara calling elderly people and posing as their granddaughter and trying to get them to send her money.”

  “So, Harper Scott is an alias, and she’s a scam artist.”

  “Yep. There were four burner phones in the backpack. One is the number that communicated with Alyssa’s phone. Three were brand new, still in their packaging.”

  “Busy girl,” Bree said. “Assign a deputy to research activity on the used phone. I want to know who she called and texted in the days leading up to the alleged shooting Monday morning.”

  “The phone is passcode protected,” Todd said.

  “Get a warrant for the cell provider records.” Which would take time.

  Todd nodded. “We need a specialist to assess the jewelry, but by appearance alone, the ruby-and-diamond bracelet matches photos of the stolen one. There were some other nice pieces in the bag too.”

  “Now we need to identify the guy who followed Alyssa in Walmart and assaulted me in cabin nineteen. Is there any mention of an accomplice in Sara’s file?”

  “No,” Todd said. “But I will look deeper.”

  “Find out who lives at her last known address and get background records on them. Look for family members or an old boyfriend.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Todd turned to Matt. “Your turn.”

  “I’ll start with this photo of Eli and his girlfriend, Sariah.” Matt slid it across the table.

  Bree looked at the photo, then compared it to the mug shot from Todd’s file. It was Sara Harper. “So, Sara Harper is Sariah Scott and Harper Scott?”

  “Seems like it,” Matt said.

  Bree leaned back in her chair. She was going to have to let that news settle. Her brain needed time to sort through the jumble of implications. “Sara Harper is the center of this investigation. I want to know everything about her. She’s only twenty-one years old. I’ll get Marge to request a yearbook from Grey’s Hollow High School for 2016. Maybe she still has the same friends.”

  “There’s more,” Matt said. “After we talked to Mrs. Whitney last night, Todd and I canvassed the neighborhood. We found a doorbell video feed of Eli getting into a fake rideshare. We’ve already checked with the rideshare company and confirmed the car that picked him up was not the correct vehicle. Someone was pretending to be his rideshare.”

  “Do you have a copy?” Bree asked.

  “I do, and Todd has already requested a copy directly from the company.” Matt slid his phone across the table.

  Bree picked it up.

  “That’s Eli,” Matt said.

  Bree watched the entire clip. “We have a fake rideshare driver in what looks like a Dodge Charger.”

  “Yes,” Matt agreed. “He even has a light-up dashboard sign.”

  “Eli never even looked for the license plate.” Bree set the phone aside. “The license plate isn’t visible.”

  “No,” Todd said. “I ran a search for Dodge Chargers in Randolph County and the neighboring counties.”

  Bree watched the clip again. The image of the auto was fuzzy. A doorbell camera was designed to capture images close to the house. The optics weren’t optimized for distance.

  Todd shuffled his papers. “This body design has been used since 2011. There are pages upon pages of them in the search area.”

  Bree rubbed a temple. “Would the size of the tire in the tracks at the cabin, boat ramp, and inn fit a Dodge Charger?”

  Todd opened his phone and tapped on it with his thumbs. A minute later, he looked up. “Yes. It would.”

  “As much as I hate being on camera, I want to schedule a press conference in an hour. I want people on the lookout for the Charger and fake rideshares.” Bree handed the phone back to Matt. “But why would anyone kidnap Eli?”

  Matt set his phone on the table. “He doesn’t have any rich relatives, so it’s not money.”

  “Could it have been a prank, and something went wrong?” Todd asked.

  “None of this makes sense,” Bree said. “How would the kidnapper know Eli called a rideshare?”

  Matt sighed. “Eli posted it on Twitter.”

  Bree exhaled. “Have someone sort through that list of Dodge Charger owners. See how many have criminal records.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Todd stood.

  “There’s one more thing.” Matt’s voice suggested it was important.

  Bree’s phone vibrated. She slid it out of her pocket and glanced at the screen. The ME was calling. “I have to take this. Excuse me.”

  In the hallway, she lifted the phone to her ear. “Sheriff Taggert here.”

  “This is Dr. Jones. The Grey Lake victim is Brian O’Neil.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, his mother was here late yesterday. We received his medical records early this morning and confirmed.”

  Oh, my god. That poor woman.

  Bree had identified her sister’s body. Erin had been shot in the chest. Dr. Jones had made sure her wounds were not visible to Bree. Erin had looked perfect. Bree remembered standing next to the gurney. Grief had ripped a hole through her that had felt as big as Erin’s gunshot wound. She didn’t think she would have been able to cope if Erin’s face had been destroyed. No chance for visible confirmation. No chance to say goodbye.

  “How did she identify him?” Bree asked.

  “I sure as hell didn’t let her see him,” Dr. Jones said in a rare slip of her professional mask. She cleared her throat. “She described the shamrock tattoo, a small scar on his knee, and the previously broken tibia. Medical records from his family doctor confirmed the identification.”

  “Thank you for the call, Dr. Jones.”

  “You’re welcome.” The line went dead.

  Bree squeezed her eyes shut for a few seconds, then opened them and returned to the conference room. Matt and Todd looked up as she entered.

  “The ME just officially identified the body from the lake as Brian O’Neil,” she said.

  “So, it seems Eli’s missing persons case officially rolls into our homicide,” Todd said.

  “Yes. We need to find him ASAP.” Bree could feel that case was going to break open with enough digging.

  Matt got to his feet. “Brian went missing on Friday. His body turned up Monday, three days later. Eli disappeared early morning on Sunday.”

  Bree finished his thought. “Today is Wednesday. Three days later.”

  “How are these cases connected?” Matt asked.

  Bree threw up her hands. “We need Brian’s financial and phone records. When I’ve finished talking to Ms. O’Neil, I’ll need to interview the roommates. Is Brian’s legal residence at the university or at his mother’s home?”

  Matt said, “The university.” He’d done a little legwork on all four of the roommates.

  Bree turned to Todd. “Then we need a search warrant for that address. Make sure Eli Whitney’s room is also covered. Get a rush on it. Also get a deputy to do full background checks on Brian O’Neil, Eli Whitney, Dustin Lock, and Christian Crone. I know Stella Dane already did them, but we need to do our own due diligence. She might have missed something. As soon as we have the warrant, we’ll bring the roommates in for questioning. Ideally, we’ll interview them while the search is being conducted. That way, if we find evidence, we can use it as leverage during the interrogation.”

  “I’ll get the warrant process started.” Todd made a list in his notepad. “Now that we have a victim, it
shouldn’t take long.” Todd turned away.

  Search warrants for homicide victims’ residences weren’t technically required, but multiple people lived at Brian’s address. Bree wouldn’t risk having evidence thrown out of court due to lack of paperwork. She also wouldn’t risk holding the roommates at the station for any length of time. The longer they sat waiting, the greater the chance they’d call an attorney. Any decent lawyer would tell them they didn’t have to answer questions.

  “I don’t want them tipped off ahead of time. If either or both of them are involved in the murders, they might destroy evidence if they think they’re suspects.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Todd left the room.

  Matt stood and went into the hallway.

  Bree followed him. “I’m going to talk to Ms. O’Neil as soon as the press conference is over. What are you doing?”

  “I still need to find Eli, but I don’t have any leads.” Matt had nothing.

  “Come with me, then. Brian’s murder and Eli’s disappearance are related. We just don’t know how yet.”

  Matt’s head tilted, as if he was turning the idea over in his mind. “I feel like the motivation must be personal.”

  “I agree. Brian’s murder was pure rage.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Matt watched Bree’s press conference from the sidelines. Standing on the sidewalk outside the sheriff’s station, she gave some basic information on Brian’s murder and Eli’s kidnapping. The surveillance video of the suspect was released, as was the photo of the mark on the back of his hand and the fact that Eli was abducted by a fake rideshare driver.

  “He was driving a Dodge Charger, but he could have access to other vehicles. Please be careful when using rideshare apps,” Bree said as she concluded the conference. “Verify the license plate. If you have any doubts, do not get into the vehicle.”

  For the next ten minutes, Bree patiently answered reporters’ questions, only holding back on details that might hamper the investigation or hurt the families of the victims. Then she excused herself and shut down the event.

  Matt followed her back inside the station.

  “I’m sorry that took so long.” She tugged at her uniform shirt collar. “I do not like being on TV.”

  “You fooled everyone. The press likes you.”

  “I guess that’s better than having them hate me.” She rubbed her eye. “It’s just part of the job I will never get used to, but the public has a right to know what’s going on. If I don’t give them the facts, they’ll start theorizing. Curiosity starts rumors.”

  On the way to Ms. O’Neil’s place, Bree fielded a call from Kayla. Her eyes were locked on the windshield, but her face softened as she talked to her niece. “Of course I’ll come. Put it on the calendar.” Bree almost smiled. “I love you too.” She ended the call and glanced at Matt. “Career Day at school. Kayla wants me to talk to her class.”

  “Sounds like fun, right?”

  “If you asked me that last year, I would have said no. Not that I didn’t like kids, but my entire focus was my job. But now . . .” She paused. “I’ve only lived with them for two months, but I already can’t imagine living alone.”

  “Kids grow on you. How have they adjusted to your new job and long hours?” Matt asked.

  “Before this case came along, I was shielding them from my work schedule as much as possible.” Bree frowned. “I usually go home for dinner, then work in the home office after they go to bed. Luke will be glad I’m busy this week. He’s been avoiding me.”

  “What’s up with Luke?”

  “I don’t know. He won’t talk to me or Dana. Even Adam struck out. Luke has been throwing himself into baseball and homework and barn chores. He seems to not want a minute of downtime.”

  “Some people like exercise to relieve stress.”

  “If I knew that’s what he was doing, I would respect it.” She stopped for a red light. “For now, I guess I’m just going to worry.”

  Matt thought Bree’s brother was too flaky to be very useful. “How much has Adam been around since you moved in?”

  “He’s come to dinner once a week,” Bree said. “More importantly, he’s been present.” She seemed to search for the right words. “Emotionally. I don’t know how else to describe it, but we had a discussion last night. A real one.” Her brows lowered in a troubled expression.

  Matt waited, but Bree didn’t elaborate. She and her nephew were very alike. Bree used work the same way Luke used homework and baseball.

  “What about Kayla?” he asked.

  “She’s been clingy and having nightmares.”

  “Clingy sounds normal after what she’s been through.”

  “She still sleeps with me or Dana,” Bree said. “But her guidance counselor says that’s to be expected. She’s afraid of losing us too. Ironically, I feel better about her mental state. She talks to me and Dana about her mom all the time. I know what’s going on in her head. She’s younger than Luke. She seems less resistant to accepting help.”

  “Being a teenager is rough enough without losing your mother to a violent crime.”

  “I know.” The light turned green, and Bree pressed on the gas pedal. “Why don’t you come to dinner as soon as this is over? The kids would love to see you. Dana will cook something awesome.”

  “I don’t want to impose.” But the invitation pleased him.

  “You won’t. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way,” Bree said. “I’m overwhelmed right now. Handling the kids and the job are both harder than I expected. But the kids like you, and I like you. Can we leave it there for the moment? When this case is over, I’m going to figure out how to squeeze a personal life into my responsibility load.”

  “You like me?”

  She sighed and rolled her eyes. “You know I like you.”

  “I didn’t assume, but the confirmation is nice.” Her admission meant more to him than he’d expected.

  She gave him a small smile, and his heart did a double take.

  She meant more to him than he’d expected.

  There was no one else in the vehicle, so he reached across the console to take her hand. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

  She looked down at their joined hands and lifted an eyebrow.

  He’d surprised her. Good.

  “I do.” She didn’t pull her hand away. “Erin’s wedding. I remember being surprised that you were such a good dancer.”

  “My mother made me learn.” As a teenager, he’d hated those lessons.

  Bree smiled again. Her fingers squeezed his. “I’m glad.”

  Matt made a mental note to send his mom flowers.

  Bree disentangled her hand to use the blinker and make a turn.

  “I’d love to come to dinner.” But Matt also vowed to take her dancing again.

  It was nine o’clock when Bree turned into the long driveway of a lakefront home. A Mercedes SUV was parked at the end of a brick walkway that led to the front door. Bree used her dashboard computer to search the vehicle’s license plate. “It’s Ms. O’Neil’s.”

  Matt climbed out of the SUV. Sunlight glittered off the water. The house had a million-dollar view of the lake. It was a big, rambling structure with plenty of wood, glass, and greenery.

  Bree led the way to the front step. Matt’s boots crunched on rock salt as he stopped beside her, facing the double doors of the huge house. Bree knocked on the door, her breath steaming in the morning light. Neither one of them spoke. Without speaking, Matt knew Bree was dreading the interview with the mutilated young man’s mother as much as he was.

  No one answered.

  “I’m worried.” Bree glanced back at the Mercedes. “She’s home.”

  She knocked louder. When the house remained silent, Bree tried the knob. It was unlocked. She turned it. A dog barked, and a weight struck the other side of the door. Bree sprang back. Matt looked through the narrow glass panel alongside the door. A big fluffy dog barked and wagged at him, its big body
wiggling and excited. Matt turned to Bree. The color had drained from her face.

  “It’s OK. It’s just a golden retriever.”

  Bree took a deep breath, but her feet did not move toward the house. Her entire body was as stiff as a block of granite.

  “I’m serious,” Matt said. “Goldens are greeters, not guard dogs.”

  Humiliation flushed her pale face. “I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

  “I’ll go in and restrain the dog.” Matt eased open the door. The dog barked once and greeted Matt with tail wags and sloppy kisses.

  “Some watchdog you are.” Matt scratched the boxy head. “Who’s a good boy?”

  The dog, a young male, panted, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

  Matt held the dog by the collar and waved Bree inside. She opened the door and slipped through, keeping her back against the wall and eyeing the dog like it was a hungry grizzly. The dog whined and tried to pull away.

  “I promise this dog will not hurt you,” he said. “This is a golden retriever. He has a scary bark because he’s big, but he would let anyone into the house. For a belly rub, he’d help the thieves carry the valuables to their getaway car.”

  “Uh-huh.” She didn’t look convinced.

  “I’m bringing the dog past you.”

  “Why?” Bree pressed harder against the wall.

  Matt had seen her face an armed shooter and her own sister’s dead body, but a golden retriever terrified her into near paralysis. “He seems agitated. He wants to show us something.”

  Bree raised an eyebrow.

  “Trust me.”

  “I do.” Her voice sharpened.

  “Then stand behind me.”

  She moved into position.

  He took her hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze, and released the dog. “Go find Mommy.”

  The golden raced out of the foyer, his feathery tail pluming behind him.

  “You really expect him to understand you?” Bree’s voice was skeptical.

  “No.” Matt started after the dog. “But he wants us to follow him, hopefully to his owner.”

  “Ms. O’Neil?” Bree called as they followed the dog. “It’s Sheriff Taggert.”

  The foyer opened into a two-story great room with a view of the frozen lake. Huge glass doors lined the back wall. A massive stone fireplace faced the kitchen. Both were cold and empty. Matt caught a movement through the glass. The dog ran to one of the doors, barked, and pawed at the base of the door. Someone sat on the deck. Smoke plumed over the back of a tall Adirondack chair.