CROSS HER HEART

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CROSS HER HEART Page 11

by Leigh, Melinda


  Bree laughed, surprising him.

  “Seriously, give yourself a break,” Matt said. “You loved your sister. You cared enough to talk to her about her life and give her advice.”

  Bree nodded and sighed. “You know everything about my family. Tell me about yours.”

  “I have two siblings. My older brother is a retired MMA fighter. He just opened his own MMA studio. My little sister operates a dog rescue and runs the office of my brother’s studio. Dad is a retired family doctor. Mom taught high school English.”

  “No deep, dark family secrets?”

  “Afraid not,” Matt said. “Nolan becoming a professional fighter was not a popular decision with my parents, but him going all black sheep is the only real family controversy.”

  “That must be nice.”

  “Here we are.” Matt turned into the entrance of Halo Salon and Spa and parked. “Ready?”

  “Yes.” Bree reached for the door handle. They stepped out of the vehicle and crossed the lot. Matt opened the glass door for her, and Bree went inside. The lobby was open and modern, with a clear view of the main salon area. The space was designed with an open concept. Hairstyling stations were on the left side of the room. Behind them, shampoo sinks lined the rear wall. To the right were a cluster of manicure stations. Through a doorway, Matt could see chairs with footbaths in another room. In the back wall, there was a doorway on each side that led to the back of the building. In the front of the space, the reception counter divided the lobby from the salon. Shaped like a comma, it circled partially around an open spiral staircase.

  They walked to the counter.

  A middle-aged woman dressed in all black greeted them. Pink highlights shone in her blonde hair. “Can I help you?”

  Bree gave her name and introduced Matt. “We’re here to see Jack Halo. We have an appointment.”

  Matt wondered if that was his real name.

  “Right this way.” The woman emerged from behind the counter and led Bree and Matt up the spiral staircase to the second-floor landing. In front of the landing was a central hall lined with doorways. Additional hallways flanked the second story.

  “What’s up here?” Bree asked.

  The women turned left and lowered her voice. “Private rooms for facials, massages, and waxing services, and administrative offices.”

  They passed a row of closed doors. The receptionist knocked lightly on a door, then opened it. Sticking her head inside, she said, “Jack, Ms. Taggert and Mr. Flynn are here.”

  She stepped aside, and Bree and Matt entered the room. A long table covered with drawings dominated the space.

  A man of about fifty stood next to the table. He set down a pair of trendy red-framed glasses. His snug black T-shirt highlighted his paunch. He wore his silver-streaked hair slicked back and shiny. He sucked in his gut as he turned to greet them.

  Bree offered him a hand. “Thank you for seeing us.”

  “Of course.” He walked toward Bree, reaching for her with two grabby hands, his fingers curled into hooks. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” He took both of her hands, pulled her closer, and kissed her cheek.

  Though clearly not comfortable with the aggressive greeting, Bree accepted the kiss with grace.

  “We’re all heartbroken.” Jack released Bree. “Erin was part of our extended Halo family.”

  “Thank you.” Bree stepped back and introduced Matt as a friend.

  They shook hands. Jack grabbed Matt’s elbow and gripped his hand hard, like an alpha male wannabe. Matt was six inches taller and fifty pounds heavier. The thought of Jack being an alpha anything was laughable, but Matt let him have his illusion. Whatever made him talkative.

  “I was hoping you’d answer a few questions for me,” Bree said. “As you can imagine, this has all been such a shock. We’re still not thinking straight.”

  “Of course.” Jack wrapped an arm around her shoulders and steered her toward a chair, physically controlling her body and movement, as he’d done with Matt. “Please sit down.”

  Bree eased into the seat, and Jack went to a mini fridge. He pulled out a bottle of water.

  She pointed toward the drawings on the table. “What are these?”

  Jack twisted off the cap of the water bottle and offered it to her. “We’re going to renovate the downstairs. These are some initial concepts I drew up.”

  Bree took the bottle. Matt scanned the drawings. Jack had talent. His plans were modern and sleek, with plenty of gray and white.

  Instead of sitting at the table, Matt crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. Jack wanted to talk to Bree, so Matt would let her run the interview.

  “Now, how can I help you?” Jack turned a chair to face Bree and sat.

  “I’m trying to figure out what happened to my sister.” Bree sipped the water.

  Jack reached for Bree’s hand and patted it. “What happened to Erin is horrible. I can’t imagine. She was so . . . normal. Not the sort of person you expect to be murdered.”

  Bree blinked at the word murdered. With a quick shake of her head, she cleared her throat. “Erin worked for you for a long time.”

  “She’s worked for the salon for ten years,” Jack said. “But I only bought Halo last year.”

  “Her clients loved her.”

  “For the most part.” Jack’s voice went vague. “But she was acting different lately.”

  Bree waited for him to elaborate. Jack wanted to talk, but something was holding him back.

  “Was her job performance affected?” Bree prompted.

  “Erin was a model employee for the first eleven months she worked for me. Reliable. Never late. She only called out if one of the kids was sick.” Jack enveloped Bree’s hand between his own.

  Bree raised a brow but didn’t jerk away. “I’m sensing a but.”

  Jack looked away for a few seconds, his brows lowering. “She seemed distracted the last few weeks. She was late twice. She left her station to take personal phone calls, which is against company policy. I had to reprimand her.” Annoyance creased his forehead. “Her ex came here, demanding to talk to her when she was in the middle of a blowout.”

  “Justin was here?” Bree clarified.

  “Yes.” Jack nodded. “They argued. He got loud and very emotional.”

  “Did you hear what they argued about?” Bree asked.

  “No. At my suggestion, they took their conversation out into the parking lot.” Jack released Bree’s hand and sat back. “But she was out there for twenty minutes. Her client was very unhappy. I had to give her a free manicure and promise her a new stylist to keep her as a patron.” He shook his head. “Erin and I had a long talk after that. I told her that it couldn’t happen again, or she would lose her job.”

  Bree appeared momentarily speechless. In Matt’s opinion, a visit from an agitated boyfriend seemed more like a situation for an employer to intervene and make sure his female employee was safe rather than reprimanded.

  “Did she say anything about the argument?” Bree asked, and for the first time, it seemed she was struggling to keep her cool.

  “No, and I didn’t ask. I don’t have time to be everyone’s friend. I run a tight ship here.” Jack flushed and picked a piece of lint from his T-shirt. “We have policies. I have over fifty employees. I can’t make exceptions.”

  Can’t? Or won’t?

  Bree’s jaw grated, as if she was trying to control her temper. Her visible response was exactly why it was hard to investigate a case that hit too close to home. But the important thing was to get Jack talking, not win an argument with him, or make him see that he was a jerk.

  “Of course.” Matt stepped in. “It must be hard.”

  “These young people.” Jack shook his head. “They have no work ethic. Give them an inch, and they take ten miles.”

  Anger sparked in Bree’s eyes like a solar flare.

  Matt cleared his throat. “Do you remember what day this happened?”

  “Yes,” Jack said. “T
he deputy asked the same question, so I looked it up for him. I filed a reprimand in Erin’s personnel file last Friday.” He opened a file on the table and showed it to Bree.

  Bree gave him a small smile that looked more like she was baring her teeth. “Do you know when Erin left work on Tuesday?”

  “The deputy asked that too.” Jack nodded. “She worked from eight to four.”

  “Thank you so much for all your help,” Matt lied. “We appreciate your cooperation.”

  “Of course,” Jack said. “I hope they find out who did this to your sister.”

  “Thank you.” Bree set the water bottle on the table. “I’d like to talk to some of the girls. I know Erin was close to a few of them.”

  “No. I’m sorry. You’ll have to speak with them off premises,” Jack said. “A sheriff’s deputy was here this morning. He interviewed the staff and made them all cry. It was very disruptive.” He spread his hands wide. “The salon is busy downstairs. I can’t allow you to get the girls all upset again. I’m sure you understand.”

  Matt didn’t, but there wasn’t anything he or Bree could do about it. He was no longer in law enforcement, and this wasn’t Bree’s jurisdiction. No one had to talk to them.

  Jack stood. “Let me get you the things in her locker. Wait here.” He left the room.

  Matt pushed off the wall. “I’m going to use the restroom. I’ll meet you in the lobby.” Since Jack had turned left, Matt went right. Fire code would require a staircase or two in addition to the spiral one behind the reception desk. At the end of the corridor, Matt spotted an EXIT sign mounted on the wall. He went through a steel door and down a set of concrete steps. On the first floor, he pushed through another steel door into a hallway that ran the length of the salon. He didn’t run into anyone until he passed the restrooms.

  Matt made his way to the reception desk to ask where he could find Stephanie Wallace, then he followed the receptionist’s directions to a station on the other side of the room. Stephanie was a tiny brunette who tottered along in a pair of thigh-high, ankle-breaker boots. She was sweeping clipped hair from the black mat under her swivel chair.

  “I’m a friend of Erin’s sister,” he explained. “We need to talk.”

  Her heavily made-up eyes welled with tears. She glanced back at the desk. “My boss . . .” She grabbed a business card from her station and wrote a phone number on it. “I’m off tomorrow morning. We can meet then. Text me.” She turned around to greet her next client.

  Matt slid the card into his pocket.

  When he caught up with Bree in the lobby a few minutes later, she was carrying a black reusable shopping bag with the Halo Salon and Spa logo on the side. The expression behind her eyes suggested she’d like to chew Jack Halo’s head right off his body.

  Voices and blow-dryers echoed in the tiled space, and the air smelled heavily of perfumed products.

  He leaned close to Bree’s ear. “We’ll talk to Steph tomorrow.”

  “Thank you,” Bree said through tight lips.

  Matt pushed through the glass doors and welcomed the nonperfumed air in his face.

  Bree kept her emotions in check until she climbed into the SUV and closed the door. “My sister’s ten-year career at the salon boiled down to the contents of one reusable nylon bag that he couldn’t wait to get rid of.”

  “What an ass.” Matt started the engine. “Good job not strangling him.”

  “Yes.” She exhaled. “Now we know that Justin came here and argued with Erin.”

  Matt frowned but didn’t comment, and he drove out of the parking lot.

  “I don’t want him to be guilty either,” Bree said. “But you have to consider the possibility.”

  But he didn’t have to like it. “Where are we going now?”

  “I’d like to walk the crime scene and talk with Justin’s neighbors. I called Todd Harvey this morning. He said Justin’s house had been fully processed and released.”

  “Are you sure you want to see the scene?” Matt asked.

  Her eyes said no as her voice said, “Yes. Want has nothing to do with it. I owe Erin.” She leaned against the headrest. “If the chief deputy found a burner phone, would he tell you?”

  “I don’t know.” Matt headed for Justin’s place. “I think he would have asked me about it.”

  “Have you told him about the burner?”

  “No,” Matt admitted.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not sure I fully trust Todd.”

  “Are you sure that’s the reason? Or did you not tell him because it makes Justin look even guiltier?”

  Matt didn’t respond, but the answer was maybe.

  Bree exhaled. “It could be an important lead, and we don’t know what the sheriff’s department has in terms of evidence at this point.”

  “You’re right. I’ll tell him. I want to touch base with him later today anyway.”

  But Matt was hoping by the end of today, he would also be able to give the chief deputy evidence that pointed at a different suspect. They drove the rest of the way in silence. Matt parked at the curb in front of the house. He got out of the SUV, reached into his pocket, and pulled out the key. Bree stood on the front walkway, staring up at the front door.

  “Are you sure you want to go inside?” Matt asked.

  Bree nodded. “But I’d like to walk the outside of the property first.”

  They walked around to the back of the house. Justin’s yard didn’t have a fence, and footprints obliterated the snow.

  “Was the snow covered with tracks that night too?” she asked, scanning the yard.

  “Yes. The storm was the week before, and there are a lot of kids in this neighborhood.” Matt gestured toward the glass door. “The slider was open.”

  “Did Justin leave that way?”

  “We don’t know what happened here, including who was here when Erin was shot.” Matt led the way back to the front stoop. He unlocked it, and they went inside. As they stood in the entryway, Matt sniffed. The house smelled normal, with no old blood scent.

  Bree hesitated at the threshold. He didn’t blame her. Her sister had died here.

  “Why don’t you search the kitchen and den, and I’ll do the bedroom?” he suggested.

  Bree paused, rubbing her solar plexus with one hand as if it burned. “I usually like to see the entire scene. As an investigator, there’s a lot to be learned from getting the killer’s perspective.”

  Is this something she needs to face to come to terms with her sister’s death?

  “I agree,” he said. “I walked the crime scenes whenever I could, but the victim was never your sister. Do you really need to see that?”

  “We’ll stay together.” Her fist was clenched against her gut, and Matt could feel the burning as if it were his own.

  “Still don’t trust me?” he asked.

  “Not entirely.” She led the way down the hall into the kitchen. “But that isn’t the reason. You mentioned earlier that Justin’s camping gear was gone. You’ve been in his house before. I haven’t. Only you will spot other things that are missing.”

  Matt returned to her side. “That makes sense.”

  They walked through the kitchen, opening cabinets and drawers. Bree checked the refrigerator.

  She touched the pizza box on the counter. “Erin loved pizza.”

  Her breath caught, and she took a deep breath before moving on.

  Matt wandered into the den. “Justin’s game system isn’t here.”

  Bree walked over to stand next to him.

  He pointed to a dust-free rectangle on the table under the TV. “Everything else seems the same in this room.”

  “Then let’s tackle the bedroom.” Bree turned toward the hallway and the scene of the crime.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Bree strode down the hall. If she hesitated even for a second, she’d lose her nerve. She stopped in the doorway to Justin’s bedroom. A large square of the carpet had been cut out. Forensics had taken the
blood-soaked piece with them. Dark red stained the raw plywood. Erin had bled so heavily that her blood had saturated the carpet and seeped through to the subfloor. Anger flared inside Bree, a rage so quick and sharp it burned. Her vision tunneled, the edges of her sight turning red.

  She felt hands on her arms, steering her out of the room. The moment passed, her chest loosened, and the air rushed into her lungs. She tried to shake off Matt’s hands. “I need to see.”

  “No, you don’t.” He gripped her biceps tighter as he marched her through the rest of the house and outside. She gulped cold air, snapping herself out of her anger.

  Back at the SUV, she turned and leaned against the vehicle. She panted, her breaths fast and furious. “I need to know what happened.” She wanted to imprint it on her mind so she would never forget.

  “Why?” His question jarred her. “Why do you need to do this to yourself?”

  Bree stared at the house. Images of her sister bleeding out on the beige carpet swept through her mind like a subway train. Unable to stop them, she let them pass through, shuddering when the barrage ended.

  Why did she want to know? To see where her sister died. Why was it so important to her?

  “Are you stoking some deep-seated need for revenge?” he asked.

  “No. It’s true I want justice for Erin, but I’m not a vigilante.” Deep down, Bree knew even the desire for justice wasn’t behind her need to experience her sister’s death.

  “There are crime scene photos to view. Why do you want to inflict this kind of unnecessary pain on yourself?” Matt’s eyes lit with understanding. “That’s it, isn’t it? You want to punish yourself.”

  Bree turned away. His assessment rang all too true. She wanted to hurt. Pain felt good, like a release of sorts.

  Matt leaned on the car next to her, his shoulder pressing lightly against hers. “Are you all right?”

  Bree turned her face to the winter sun. The rays—or shame—heated her face. “I should know what was going on in Erin’s head. My sister’s life should not be a mystery to me.”

  “When she was in trouble, you were the person she reached out to. But someone killed her before you could help. That is not your fault. You dropped everything because you were worried about her.”

 

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