Justin’s purchase might be unrelated to the graffiti or the murder.
Her eyes widened. “You’re not going to try to pin all that vampire graffiti bullshit on me, are you?”
“You have a problem with us searching your house?”
She considered her fingernails, and the ragged remains of the baby blue polish that had once coated them. Brandon figured she was thinking about what the police might find in her home—especially drugs.
“Go ahead,” she said.
“You willing to consent to that in writing?”
She didn’t answer, her eyes moving to the door. He knew from experience she was on the verge of asking for an attorney.
“Let me put it this way,” Brandon said. “If we don’t find anything connecting you to the murder of Justin or Lauren, that makes your case that much stronger.”
“Okay.”
Ruby signed a voluntary consent form, allowing the police to search her house for evidence related to the murders. She told him he could use the key from her keychain.
“Anyone else in the house?” Brandon asked.
“I been alone for years,” Ruby said. A flash of regret crossed her face.
There was no point in asking her more about her personal life, for now. Bringing up old wounds might lead her to reconsider consenting to the search.
“Can I have a cigarette?” she asked.
Brandon grimaced. “Sorry, Ruby. No smoking in jail.”
“Jail? I thought you were just questioning me.”
“Remember that part where we placed you under arrest? For intent to sell and evading police?”
She squinted at him. “Fine. I want an attorney.”
“Okay, but you’re being held until the judge says you can leave.”
Brandon opened the door.
“Wait,” she said.
Brandon turned to Ruby.
“What about the murder?” she asked. “You think I did it?”
“Do I think you’re capable? That you wanted to or at least thought about it? Sure.”
“But I—”
Brandon held up a hand. “Wait until your attorney gets here.”
He had Ruby fingerprinted, and they contacted a court-appointed attorney contracted by the county to represent indigent defendants. He was there in less than an hour.
Ruby’s attorney made it clear Ruby was done talking. He wasn’t happy she’d already given a DNA sample, and when he learned she’d agreed to let Brandon search her house, he lost it.
To Brandon’s surprise, Ruby didn’t withdraw consent to search her home. He’d convinced her that it was the only way to prove she was innocent of murder.
He hoped he was right, but there was just as much chance of Brandon and his team finding evidence that would send Ruby to prison for life.
Brandon called in Will and Jackson to help with the search. They were looking for teeth, fangs to be specific. Besides that, anything that might connect Ruby with the killings. Who knew, they might find a stack of red spray paint bottles.
Things were going downhill fast for Ruby. She didn’t have an alibi for the time Justin was killed, and it was a known fact that she didn’t like the trio of friends who’d threatened her drug business. She’d even chased Brooke and Justin to the police station a day before his murder.
Now, she’d just confessed to lying about having Lauren in her car in the hours before her murder. And then there were the teeth. Ruby had even admitted to owning fangs like the ones used to bite Lauren and Justin.
It was ten-thirty by the time they finished. They hadn’t found anything of consequence. No fangs, no signs of struggle. Ruby kept a surprisingly neat and tidy home. The dishes were done, drying on the counter. No overflowing trash or piles of dirty clothes.
One frame photo showed a younger Ruby in the arms of what must have been a husband or boyfriend. There were photos of kids too, from age three or four to pre-teen. None past that point. That usually meant a severing of the relationship, either by choice or through state involvement.
The sparseness of Ruby’s place made the search easier. Jackson discovered a bottle of pain pills which, ironically, were prescribed for Ruby.
Outside, Brandon searched the carport for rope matching the one used to hang Justin, but found none.
They were walking away empty handed, but that didn’t get her off the hook. Her motive and the evidence against her were solid. Even Jackson had said as much during the search, chaffing at the idea of holding off on charging her for Lauren’s murder.
But Ruby wasn’t the only suspect, and there was more work to do.
Tomorrow.
It was past eleven when he got home and found Emma asleep on the couch, Misty bleary-eyed leaned back in the recliner.
“Oh, hey,” she said, sitting up.
“Thanks for coming over.”
She stretched her arms. “Any time.”
Misty stood, her eyes still half closed.
“How’d it go?” he asked.
“Fine. Games, dinner, talking about boys,” she said.
Boys? Emma didn’t have a boyfriend, did she?
“How about you?” Misty asked.
“I’m going out of my way to prove one of my suspects is innocent, and I may be wasting my time. I might be wrong—”
Misty yawned, patting his chest. “You’ll figure it out. Maybe she’s guilty and you just need to get the proof—”
“She?”
Misty knew he was talking about Ruby. Word of Ruby’s involvement in the case had spread over the past several days.
“I’d better get going,” she said.
“See you,” he said.
“You too.” She stood on her tiptoes and pecked him on the lips, then slumbered out the door.
Hadn’t he told he made it clear they couldn’t be together?
If that were the case, why did he wish she were still there, that she’d given him a chance to respond, with more than a peck on the lips?
He shook his head. The case, the new job, this town was getting to him. He and Misty did not belong together. Not two decades ago and not now.
Not to mention, he had a date with Lisa Shipley tomorrow night.
Brandon watched Misty until she arrived safely on her own porch. He couldn’t help but think, frazzled as her hair was, her walk like a wandering zombie, that she was just as beautiful as she’d been twenty years ago.
“Dad?”
“I’m home, sweetie. Come on. Off to bed for you.”
Emma stared up at him with the vacant gaze of a sleepwalker.
“Let’s go,” he said, putting a hand under her arm.
“What happened with the case?” she asked.
“That doesn’t matter.”
“I want to know.”
“Not now, Emma. I’m tired.”
And hungry, and irritated.
“Fine,” she said, pulling away from him. “Don’t talk to me.”
Brandon stifled a grin. If she saw his reaction, she’d been even more miffed. As if was, he wondered if she’d even remember the conversation come morning.
He opened the fridge and found a box of leftover pizza—only one slice left. There were a couple of beers too, but he’d be asleep in ten minutes, so he let them be.
He devoured the pizza and headed for bed. It had been a long day. Another murder, a revelation that Olivia was Brooke’s aunt, and growing evidence that Ruby was in fact the killer he’d been searching for. His gut told him she wasn’t. But intuition wouldn’t bring a murderer to justice. He needed hard evidence connecting one of his suspects to the crime scene—the vampire fangs, saliva from the beer cans on the sea stack—something he hadn’t thought of yet.
He thought back to the graffiti on the abandoned house. More Will Die.
If he didn’t solve this case soon, more murders would occur. If Ruby was the killer, she was in jail, for now. If she wasn’t guilty, that meant the murderer was still out there, waiting to strike again.
<
br /> Chapter 34
Brandon dropped Emma off at his dad’s house on his way into the office. It was Sunday morning, and he’d planned on going to church with Emma and his dad. Brandon’s dad attended the same local Baptist church he’d gone to since Brandon was a kid.
The problem was, Brandon needed to wrap up this homicide case.
Family was the reason he’d left the homicide department. He’d wanted regular hours, more time with Emma when she was with him.
He told her he’d try to make it to the 10:30 service. If not, he’d see them for lunch.
In moments like this, he wondered if taking the Chief of Police position had been a good idea. But he was here now, and despite his best efforts, was still dealing with murderers, drug dealers, and other lowlifes that inhabited society, be it in the city or this edge-of-the-continent back country.
Nolan and Josiah were huddled at the conference room table when Brandon arrived at the station. They’d just done shift briefing and were getting ready to head out for the day.
“We heard you made an arrest in the murder cases,” Josiah said.
“Who told you that?” Brandon asked.
“He doesn’t want to hear about rumors,” Nolan said, shooting Josiah a warning.
It was obvious they’d been talking about the case. And for some reason, Nolan wanted to hide the fact from Brandon.
“I’m dying to know,” Brandon said. He’d learned from a former captain it was better to know the office gossip and address them rather than wait for the fallout.
“You arrested Ruby,” Josiah said. “Not to butt in or anything—”
“Josiah, if you have something to say about a case, I want you to speak up.”
He couldn’t say the same about Nolan.
“There’s the vampire connection—she’s part of that cult. And with the vampire bites…”
Josiah paused, as if waiting for Brandon to interrupt.
“Go on,” Brandon said.
“And she had it out for the girl,” Josiah said.
“Show him the tips we got,” Nolan said, motioning to the desk behind Josiah.
Josiah twisted in his seat and picked up a piece of paper with handwritten notes on it. He handed it to Brandon.
There had been three phone calls. Two callers, both women, had information about Lauren’s murder but were afraid to come forward. One of the women knew “without a doubt” the killer was a member of the local vampire coven. The vampire bites proved it, the caller claimed. The third caller was male. He’d gotten straight to the point and mentioned Ruby by name.
“None of these people identified themselves?” Brandon asked.
“No—”
“Rumors, at best. At worst, they’re trying to frame Ruby. And we’re already looking into her. And they aren’t vampire bites. They’re puncture wounds from a person wearing false teeth or fangs. Whether that has some connection to the case, we don’t know.”
“What about motive?” Nolan said.
Brandon nodded. “Motive is important, but it doesn’t prove anything. For every homicide, there might be four or five people who wished the victim dead. Of those, maybe two or three had the means and opportunity to commit murder.”
“And that’s Ruby—” Nolan started.
“And Brooke and Adam. Justin too, thanks to the unfortunate love triangle—”
“Justin’s dead,” Josiah said.
“I agree, it’s probably the same killer. But don’t assume that. It’s possible Justin was involved in the first killing and a victim of the second.”
Nolan shook his head. “It sounds like you don’t want to charge Ruby. I mean, the girl was in her car. She has no alibi for Justin’s murder.”
The info about the car ride and the alibi was new, but it likely trickled down to Nolan through shift report. It wasn’t the kind of information Brandon trusted in Nolan’s hands. Still, he couldn’t ask his department to hide information from Nolan without making it clear he was done with the recalcitrant officer.
“Like I said, we have more than one suspect here.”
“How many don’t have an alibi?” Nolan asked.
“On the night of Lauren’s murder, they were all supposedly asleep. As for Justin’s death, Brooke was at her aunt’s during the time he was killed.”
“That leaves Adam, Lauren’s boyfriend,” Josiah said.
“Having strong suspicions is a long way away from charging someone with murder,” Brandon said.
“You’re saying you’ve had cases thrown out?” Nolan asked.
“No, I’m saying the reason I didn’t is because I know how to do my job. That means being careful, and not making a move until you’re sure. Ruby’s here on drug trafficking charges. For now.”
Nolan stood. “I got to hit the streets.” He eyed Brandon. “I still think she did it. And word is you know she did it and just don’t want to admit it.”
Brandon hadn’t shared his doubts about Ruby’s innocence with anyone.
Except Misty.
She wouldn’t share their private conversations with Nolan. Would she?
“Maybe you feel bad about not arresting her before Justin’s murder,” Nolan said
“You know, you should be a therapist, as concerned as you are about my emotions,” Brandon said.
With that, the conversation was over and Nolan left for his beat.
The comment about Brandon’s doubts irked him. He’d confront Misty about that, later. Brandon wasn’t in a relationship with Misty—but it sure felt like it with as much trouble as she was causing him.
Brandon flipped on his computer monitor and stared at the stack of emails waiting for him. One caught his eye, from Lisa Shipley. She’d sent it at six that morning.
He scanned the contents. Lisa was doing another autopsy, not able to call this morning. Wanted to update him on what she’d learned.
Justin hadn’t died from hanging, her email explained, self-inflicted or otherwise. Not enough damage to the carotid artery. It wasn’t a broken neck that killed most hanging victims, but lack of oxygen to the brain.
That was consistent with what Brandon had noticed at the crime scene. The marks where the rope had worn away the tree’s bark were evidence Justin had already been dead when his killer struggled to pull his body up to a hanging position.
He’d most likely died from head injuries caused by the shovel. Whoever had done this wanted to make sure he was dead.
They hadn’t found any blood in Justin’s truck. It was likely he’d been killed on-site.
It was good information, essentially ruling out suicide. But it didn’t point to any one suspect. He kept reading. No saliva on the bite wound—it had been wiped clean.
Nothing would be easy with this case.
He re-read the report and scrolled to the end.
Good news.
They’d found DNA on the beer cans he’d discovered on the sea stack. One profile was Lauren’s. The other belonged to a woman. No one in the CODIS database.
A woman. Another strike against Ruby—if the murderer was the same person who’d shared the beers with Lauren.
Lauren’s prints were on the cans and a partial print from another person. As far as the necklace Brandon had found at the scene, they’d obtained skin cells. DNA was pending.
Brandon closed his email and turned to the white board on the wall opposite his desk.
He began outlining the case.
A handful of people would have wanted Lauren dead. There was Adam, Lauren’s jealous boyfriend. Brooke, whose boyfriend Lauren had been sleeping with. Justin, desperate to keep his fling with Lauren a secret. And Ruby, the drug dealing vampire cult member who, were she honest, was probably happy to learn about Lauren’s death.
None of them had a good alibi for the night Lauren of Lauren’s murder.
Then again, it could be someone entirely disconnected from the case. Brandon thought back to Garrett Zornes, the tow truck driver that had given Lauren a ride to the conveni
ence store. Or Doug Nevins and Derrick Green. They couldn’t be ruled out, at least not for Lauren’s murder. Doug Nevins had been in jail when Justin was murdered.
Lauren had most likely been pushed off the sea stack and dragged into the water. Before that she’d had sex with Adam and Justin. Later, she’d had a few beers with someone. A woman, it seemed, now, based on the DNA evidence from the beer cans. Ruby had the Coors Light receipt in her car.
It would take some time to determine if the DNA on the cans was Ruby’s.
What was the connection between the two murders? The only physical similarity was the vampire teeth bite. Was there really a blood crazed vampire killer on the loose in Forks? One of Vasile’s followers? How was the graffiti connected to all of this?
In all the activity around Justin’s death he’d almost forgotten. They’d discovered the video evidence of Justin buying the spray paint up in Port Angeles.
Was Justin behind the vampire graffiti? Had he upset someone, possibly one of the cult members? Why paint the symbols to begin with?
For all the excitement around town, and in his department, about the vampire connection—especially as it involved Ruby—it was all too obvious.
A distraction.
He opened his phone and studied the photo of the most recent graffiti, the words More Will Die painted the day before Justin’s death.
He had to admit, there was a connection there.
Whoever had killed Justin had tried to cover it up and had done a sloppy job.
Adam had no alibi, either did Ruby. Brooke was with her aunt, Olivia. His mind returned to the cans on the sea stack. Brooke had an alibi for Justin’s murder, not for Lauren’s.
As much as everyone wanted Ruby to be the one who’d done this, he wasn’t ready yet to follow the easy conclusion that she was the guilty one. Sure, she had motive and had owned fangs like those used on Lauren’s body. Fangs that were missing. But it didn’t fit.
He wished he could call his old partner, Bill Whitlock. They’d worked homicide together most of Brandon’s career. Bill kept Brandon’s head on straight, calling him out when it seemed some bias led Brandon to lean one way or another. Brandon had done the same for Bill a time or two. That’s what partners did—called each other on their bullshit.
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