See Her Die

by Leigh, Melinda

  “How did you do that?” Matt asked her.

  She wagged her tail.

  “You are too smart,” he said.

  Matt fed both dogs and took them out in the yard. Back inside, he closed the bedroom door to keep both dogs confined. Then he showered and fell into bed face-first. Greta surprised him by curling up on the floor and closing her eyes.

  He pointed at Brody, stretched out next to the bed. “You’re in charge.”

  Brody groaned.

  Matt hoped she didn’t eat the bedroom while he slept, but he was too tired to care.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Bree walked into the Scarlet Falls Police Station that afternoon. She’d already stopped at the hospital. Christian would be released that evening if he showed no signs of complications. Rogers’s surgery had gone well. He would stay in the hospital for a couple of days, but the prognosis was good for his injury. His willingness to address his probable PTSD was the first step toward emotional recovery.

  She stopped at the front desk and asked for Detective Dane. Stella appeared a minute later, looking as ragged as Bree felt.

  Frowning, Stella escorted Bree to the interview room. “Overnight, Alyssa magically retained the best defense attorney in the area.”

  “Who is that?” Bree asked.

  “My sister, Morgan.” Stella studied Bree’s face. “You didn’t call her, did you?”

  “No.” Bree didn’t blink. Technically, that was not a lie.

  Stella turned. “I thought you and I would conduct the interview, since we’re the most familiar with the case.”

  “Fine.”

  They walked into the interview room. Alyssa sat in a chair, her shoulders hunched, her head bowed. A woman rose from the chair next to her. She was tall, with long black hair and blue eyes. She wore a well-fitted suit, a silk blouse, and heels.

  She held out a hand to Bree. “I’m Morgan Dane. I’ll be representing Ms. Vincent.”

  The family resemblance between Morgan and Stella was clear. But Stella dressed like Bree. No jewelry, no makeup, simple hair, utilitarian clothes. Morgan was the sort of woman who made Bree wish she had a clue about accessorizing. She was wearing pearls. Actual freaking pearls.

  Stella and Bree settled on the opposite side of the table. Stella announced everyone’s name for the recording, then read Alyssa her rights and had her sign a standard form. Then she began. “Alyssa, I’d like to start by asking you how you knew Joe Marcus.”

  Morgan leaned forward. “Before my client answers a single question, let’s clarify her position.” The attorney consulted a notepad. “At this point, you have no physical evidence tying my client to any of the burglaries. Nor is she implicated in any way to the murders of Sara Harper, Brian O’Neil, or Eli Whitney. In fact, my client was nearly a murder victim herself.”

  “Before he died, Joe Marcus stated that Alyssa was complicit in burglaries committed by Sara Harper,” Stella said. “It’s in Sheriff Taggert’s report, and so is your client’s confession.”

  Morgan looked up from her notes. “Your only evidence linking my client to a potential burglary charge is the word of a dead serial killer?”

  Three heartbeats of silence passed.

  Morgan continued. “In the sheriff’s report, Alyssa admitted to making some mistakes, and even that statement could be attributed to trying to placate Joe Marcus in order to stay alive. My client did not confess to any crime. Sara Harper’s fingerprints were on the recovered jewelry, not Ms. Vincent’s.”

  “We have videos showing your client’s vehicle being used during the burglaries,” Stella said.

  Morgan shuffled papers. “In one of Sheriff Taggert’s interviews, my client already explained that Sara Harper used the vehicle without permission,” she replied, holding up a copy of Bree’s notes.

  Marge had texted Bree early that morning to let her know the defense attorney was requesting copies. Bree wasn’t obligated to provide them, since Alyssa hadn’t formally been charged, but Bree saw no reason to withhold her reports. She still had to complete and close her investigation into the murders, but with Joe Marcus dead, there was no trial on the horizon.

  “While she was sleeping?” Stella asked in a disbelieving tone.

  Morgan answered with a bland expression. “That’s what we assume.”

  Which was lawyer code for can you prove otherwise?

  Bree sat back. Morgan had summed up the situation nicely. They might all know that Alyssa was involved in the burglaries, but they couldn’t prove it. Maybe evidence would arise later, but that didn’t matter today.

  Morgan has been busy this morning.

  Bree was impressed. Morgan Dane was a damned good lawyer, advocating for her client with the letter of the law and no theatrics. Bree had been worried about Alyssa being charged in Stella’s burglary case, but she hadn’t had time to thoroughly evaluate the evidence, or lack of it. Morgan had sliced through it like a human machete.

  Morgan stacked her papers. “I would like to request you release my client immediately. We would also request her vehicle and personal possessions be returned to her. When do you think that might happen, Sheriff?”

  “That’s up to Detective Dane,” Bree said. “As far as the murder cases go, forensics is finished with the 4Runner and Alyssa’s backpack. Her wallet was found in Sara Harper’s bag, which is part of the burglary investigation.”

  Morgan lifted a brow at her sister.

  “Fine,” Stella huffed.

  “Excellent.” Morgan tucked her notes into her briefcase.

  “We’re not finished,” Bree said. “Ms. Vincent can still be charged with criminal trespass for entering and remaining in the campground without permission.”

  Morgan sat back. “Which is a misdemeanor.”

  “But is still punishable with up to one year in prison.” Bree felt like a jerk, but Alyssa had information no one else could provide.

  “What do you want, Sheriff?” Morgan asked.

  “Answers,” Bree said. “The victims’ families deserve to know what happened.”

  Morgan paused for a few seconds. “My client will only answer questions in exchange for immunity from any and all charges. Otherwise, she will invoke her fifth amendment right to remain silent.”

  “Agreed,” Bree said. The trespassing charge was lame anyway. There were no damages to the property. The typical sentence was a fine and community service, which they all knew. She’d deal with the prosecutor later, but she doubted he’d want to muddy a very complicated serial murderer investigation by charging the only witness with a minor crime. Besides, it was Bree’s case, and without her cooperation, it would be impossible to make the charge stick.

  “Fine.” Stella tossed a frustrated hand in the air.

  Bree turned to Alyssa. “Tell us how you know Joe Marcus.”

  Alyssa swallowed. “I didn’t meet him at all until he forced me into his car after he set the motel on fire, but Harper had told me about him. She said he was her former partner. She didn’t want to work with him anymore because he was going scary crazy. She said he wanted to kill some guys because they’d made fun of him.”

  “Did she say how he became her partner?” Bree asked.

  Alyssa nodded. “They already knew each other. He was a plumber. Sometimes, when he was on a job, he’d be alone in a house. He’d go through the place looking for valuables. Nothing that could be traced, just small, easy-to-steal things like jewelry and cash.” She breathed. “Joe would make lists of houses he thought would be easy to break into. No alarms, et cetera. He wrote down where the valuables were kept and other notes that helped Harper get in and out fast. Harper was supposed to wait three months before hitting the houses, but a couple of times she jumped the gun.”

  “But she didn’t want to work with him anymore,” Bree prompted.

  “Yeah. He didn’t take it well.” Alyssa took a deep breath. “When I saw him shoot her, I didn’t know for sure it was him, but I guessed it might have been.”

&nbs
p; “But you did see him clearly?” Bree asked.

  Alyssa lifted the end of her hair and chewed on it. “Yes.”

  “You recognized him in Walmart,” Bree said.

  “Yes.” Alyssa’s voice was barely audible.

  Bree had been right about the incident. She had no doubt it had been a test by Joe to see if Alyssa could identify him. She’d failed, and he’d decided she needed to die.

  “Which houses did you help Sara Harper burglarize?” Stella asked.

  Morgan interrupted. “I’ll need that immunity deal in writing from the DA before I allow my client to answer that question.”

  Alyssa put her hand flat on the table. “Look, I know I was wrong. But I was broke and depressed and sorry afterward. I’m not a bad person.”

  “It’s what you do going forward that matters,” Bree said.

  A bad person would have run instead of helping Rogers. Alyssa had stayed, even though that decision had gotten her arrested.

  Alyssa’s eyes opened wide. “It won’t be something stupid like that again. I learned my lesson.”

  Bree pushed back her chair.

  “That’s it?” Alyssa glanced back and forth between Morgan, Bree, and Stella.

  “That’s it.” Morgan smiled. “You’re free to go.”

  “Do you have a place to stay?” Bree asked Alyssa.

  “Yeah. Marge called the manager of the campground. He’s going to give me a job as caretaker for the next two months. If I do an OK job, we’ll talk about making it full-time.”

  “That’s great.” Relief flooded Bree. The girl had committed crimes. But she’d been desperate and easily manipulated by Sara Harper. Bree could not excuse her criminal behavior, but Alyssa had done the right thing when it had mattered. People weren’t perfect. Going to prison wouldn’t improve her chances of becoming a functioning member of society, but a little help might.

  Bree drove back to the sheriff’s station. Her butt had barely hit her office chair when Todd knocked on her doorframe.

  “Come in,” she said. “Did you get any sleep?”

  He stretched his neck. “I went home for a couple of hours.”

  “Good.” Bree had eaten breakfast with the kids and napped for three hours before returning to work. “Where do we stand on wrapping up our investigation?”

  Todd sighed. “Ballistics matched Joe Marcus’s gun with the bullets used to kill Brian O’Neil.”

  “Good,” Bree said. “The ME hasn’t completed the autopsies on Sara Harper or Eli Whitney yet, but I spoke to Dr. Jones briefly about the lack of blood on the ice behind the cabins. She won’t commit, of course, but she speculates from an external exam that the bullets that killed Sara struck her in the liver. Most of the bleeding would have been internal.”

  “That makes sense,” Todd said. “Forensics is still processing Joe’s house. But his computer was a jackpot. He kept an online journal, starting back in high school, where he was bullied. He was pretty much a social outcast since graduating. His posts escalated from loneliness and isolation to anger over the next couple of years. Everyone at the plumbing company thought he was weird. He had no friends there. He mentioned Sara in a number of posts, and he became resentful that she wasn’t interested in him. After the four roommates picked on him, he wrote about his rage, with lots of details on how he wanted to kill them. Also, he had a whole computer folder full of pictures of Sara Harper, going all the way back to high school. He was clearly obsessed with her, but she had no interest in him. The only reason he helped her with her burglary scheme was because he wanted to please her.”

  “And she used him.”

  “Seems like it,” Todd agreed. “He was convinced Sara had slept with both Eli Whitney and Brian O’Neil.”

  “Maybe she did. There were pictures of her with both Eli and Brian,” Bree said. “Joe’s company regularly serviced the house Eli, Brian, Christian, and Dustin lived in. Joe had already worked on Brian’s mother’s house. So, he was probably the one who put Brian in Sara’s sights. Sara targeted both Eli and Brian, but likely dropped Eli when she figured out his family didn’t have any money.”

  “Yes,” Todd agreed. “According to his journal, Joe was already jealous when he went to work on their water heater. Eli and his roommates picked on Joe, and that sent him over the edge.”

  “At least there’s no doubt that we got the right man.”

  “No doubt at all,” Todd said and left the office.

  Marge popped her head in. “There’s an Earl Harper in the lobby to see you. He insists on speaking only with you.”

  Bree sighed. She couldn’t refuse. His daughter had been killed. He was an ass, but he was also a victim. “OK. Bring him in.”

  A minute later, Marge ushered Earl in.

  “Have a seat.” Bree gestured toward the chairs that faced her desk.

  “I don’t want to sit.” Earl planted his fists on the desk and loomed, his anger palpable in the small room.

  “How can I help you?”

  “You killed Joe Marcus?” Earl asked.

  “He was shot by the sheriff’s department,” Bree said. She hadn’t given out Matt’s name.

  Earl straightened and crossed his arms. “Someone stole my dog.”

  The abrupt change in topic confused Bree. “What?”

  “My dog. Someone stole it.” A vein throbbed on Earl’s temple.

  The memory of the dog charging her raised goose bumps on her arms, and a slight wave of nausea passed over her. She swallowed it. Earl Harper was the last person she wanted to see her weakness. “Do you want to fill out a report?”

  “Maybe.” His eyes narrowed. He’d seen her reaction.

  Damn.

  Bree didn’t like him knowing about her fear. “Is the dog microchipped?”

  “No.” His jaw sawed. “Did you steal it?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  He didn’t answer. But then, what could he say? Because I let it loose to bite you?

  “I haven’t been anywhere near your dog,” Bree said. “Do you have vet records? Ownership papers? Photos?”

  “No.” Earl got up. “I knew you wouldn’t help.”

  “Mr. Harper. You are welcome to fill out a report, and one of my deputies will investigate, but it would be helpful to have ownership records and pictures of the dog.” Bree stood. “I’m truly sorry for the loss of your daughter.”

  Earl’s face reddened. “Would have been great if someone had figured out Marcus was a murderer before he killed Sara.” He stormed out of her office.

  Marge came in. “What was up with him?”

  Bree explained. “I suspect he doesn’t know how to process his daughter’s death, and he needs somewhere to focus his anger.”

  Bree had a bad feeling she hadn’t seen the last of Earl’s misplaced rage.

  “Who do you think stole his dog?” Marge stared at Bree. They both knew.

  Matt.

  Bree stood. “I’m going home.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Bree left her paperwork incomplete and arrived home in time to have dinner with her family. She parked next to her brother’s ancient Bronco. Wanting fresh clothes before she saw the family, she went in the little-used front door. Bree headed for the bedroom and changed into jeans and a sweater.

  She didn’t want to be the sheriff tonight. She just wanted to be with her family.

  Bree joined Dana in the kitchen, which smelled of garlic and lemon. Vader perched on the counter, watching Dana cook. Out the back window, Bree spotted Kayla grooming her pony, Pumpkin, in the fading sunlight. Adam perched on the top of the fence, a sketch pad on his lap. Ladybug napped in the grass at Adam’s feet. The barn door stood open. The day had warmed above freezing, and the waning sun shone on the grass.

  “Where’s Luke?” Bree wandered to the fridge.

  “In the barn.” Dana stood at the stove, stirring something in a saucepan. “They were all stir-crazy, including your brother. I sent them outside.”

  Chu
ckling, Bree opened a can of seltzer. “What are you making?”

  “Chicken piccata with a side of penne. There’s tiramisu for dessert.”

  “Homemade?” Bree checked the fridge. She hadn’t eaten a real meal in days.

  “Of course it’s homemade. My Italian grandmother would rise from her grave and swat me with a wooden spoon if I served store-bought.” Dana shook her head. “Matt called and invited himself to dinner.”

  “Matt called you?” Bree was suspicious.

  Dana lifted a shoulder.

  Bree checked her phone. Matt hadn’t called her. The last time he’d gone directly to Dana, Bree had ended up with a rescue dog she hadn’t wanted. “What is he up to?”

  “He didn’t say.” Dana paused to catch Bree’s gaze. “I thought maybe he just wanted to see you.”

  Warmth flushed Bree’s face.

  Dana shook her head. “I was going to invite him anyway. That is one fine man.”

  “I know.”

  Dana glanced up, her face surprised. “So, why are you not pursuing that fine man?”

  “Because I’m an idiot?” Bree sipped some seltzer. “I was all bogged down with making time for a relationship, but that’s ridiculous. Matt fits right in with the family. The kids like him. I like him.”

  She thought about the moment they’d shared in the hospital and knew the potential existed for more than liking him.

  Dana tapped her spoon on the edge of the pan. “I’m glad you finally got some sense.”

  “But I just hired Matt as an investigator.” Bree frowned. “I’m not sure if that complicates things.”

  Dana waved off her concern. “He’s a civilian contractor.”

  “Money flows from the sheriff’s office to Matt. It doesn’t look good if I have a romantic relationship with him. What will people think?”

  “Fuck ’em,” Dana said.

  Bree choked on her seltzer. “What?”

  “Since when do you care what people think?” Dana pointed at Bree with her wooden spoon.

  “Since I became an elected official, who wasn’t even really elected.” Bree coughed and wiped seltzer off her chin.

  “That doesn’t mean you don’t get to have a life. Whether or not you are dating one of your criminal investigators won’t be the reason people don’t support you. Besides, you have like three years until your current term is over. I wouldn’t worry about an election just yet. Your predecessor was crooked as shit, and he was hugely popular. People will see what they want to see. So far, you’re looking like a damned good sheriff. Don’t worry about anything else. Just do the job to the best of your ability. Be fair. Be honest. In short, be you.”