Stolen Daughters

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Stolen Daughters Page 9

by Carolyn Arnold


  “All I can ask— Oh, actually, since I have you, are you getting closer to forwarding Doe’s photo to me?” He had said that he should have it to her by the end of today. Hopefully by asking early afternoon she wasn’t pushing too much.

  “Should be soon. All I can say. I have sent the DNA sample to the lab and taken the dental impression. I’ll let you know if either one gets us anywhere. Though you know DNA takes forever.”

  “I do, but I appreciate whatever you can do.” With that she hung up and found Trent had finished taking pictures and was watching her. “Just called Rideout. He’s going to try and rush the lab on Doe’s tox panel. No photo of her yet. Soon, he says.”

  “Some good news.”

  A PWC News van pulled up, and Amanda groaned. “And there’s the bad news.”

  There was no honor or sanctity in murder—none. The poor victim, in a way, continued to suffer. The person they once were became inventoried as a catalog of parts on the autopsy table while their lives were dissected by investigators and the media.

  “Let’s get out of here.” She marched toward the department car. Her hand was on her door handle when the reporter’s words made their way to Amanda’s ears.

  “This is Diana Wesson with PWC News. I’m here on location where a woman has been discovered murdered in her home. This comes just one day after the body of a young woman was pulled from a house fire a few doors down. Prince William County Police Department is on scene.”

  There was a lull in the reporter’s speaking, and Amanda could sense what was coming. She flung the door open, but the twentysomething, blond reporter wedged herself between Amanda and the car.

  “Excuse me. Are you the lead detective on the case? Do you think the incidents are related?” The reporter thrust a microphone in her face.

  Amanda pushed the mike aside. She had little tolerance for reporters and journalists—even less when they were in her personal bubble. “No comment.”

  “But it is correct? There was a murder?” Her blue eyes were wide and blinking.

  With her gaze locked on Diana’s, Amanda flushed with rage. Doe’s killer might want his fifteen minutes of fame, but if this was his work, she wasn’t giving it to him. “You need to leave. And you—” Amanda glared at the cameraman “—need to turn that off. Now.”

  “Di?” the cameraman appealed to the reporter.

  Diana leveled a glare at Amanda. “You really can’t expect us to leave. This is a breaking news story.”

  “A break—” Amanda took a few breaths. “A breaking news story? A woman was murdered.”

  “The public has a right to know,” Diana seethed.

  “You want a story? You contact the Prince William County Police Department’s Public Information Office. Get your facts in order.” The second Diana Wesson left, Amanda would be calling the supervisor at the PIO and telling him to hold back everything.

  Diana stood there for a good thirty seconds before grounding the heel of one of her stilettos into the pavement. “Fine.” She lassoed her arm over her head, a gesture to wrap it up. The cameraman followed her back to the news van.

  “Gah, I hate reporters,” Amanda griped and pulled out her phone. Ronald Topez at the PIO answered on the second ring. “You might be hearing from a Diana Wesson with PWC News about the murder at six-oh-two Bill Drive. Don’t give her anything.”

  “I don’t have much, so that will be easy.”

  She detected a smile in Ronald’s voice. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it.” He hung up first, and she joined Trent in the department car.

  “Notification of kin?”

  “Yep.” As Trent pulled away, she took in the madness around her—all the people milling about, both civilian and law enforcement—drawn together because of a horrid crime. Some might see this as evidence of humanity, but that wasn’t what Amanda saw. Most people were there because misery loved company and knowing that a calamity had befallen someone else made them feel better about their own lives. They also wanted to feel important, like they mattered.

  Like they mattered…

  Was that also the case with their killer—assuming the same man had killed both women? Did he want to feel like his journey on this planet was of consequence? In addition, did he require that reassurance from others, possibly long for approval? Was that why he’d left that note for her, to initiate a bond?

  She glanced over at Trent. She should tell him about the note on her daughter’s grave in case everything got out of control. As if two bodies in twenty-four hours, on the same street, wasn’t already an indication of that. “There’s something you should know…”

  Twenty

  Amanda made Trent stop at Hannah’s for a coffee before laying out everything about the note. She needed the caffeine to think straight, for one thing. After a few long draws, and with the diner in the rearview mirror, she told him.

  “I really don’t like the sound of that.” Trent was splitting his attention between looking out the windshield and glancing at Amanda in the passenger seat.

  They were on the way to give notification to Keira Norris, Shannon Fox’s sister. Amanda couldn’t respond to Trent as she had a mouthful of muffin—something else she’d picked up from the diner.

  Trent continued. “It sounds like he’s taunting you. He obviously wants you to know that he can get to you. A threat? Also, to put it on Lindsey’s grave…” Trent winced. “That’s like him saying he knows your darkest secrets.”

  She highly doubted that. She harbored some doozies.

  “And I know how you feel about investigating the people in Fox’s life,” he added, “but what would make a one-off killer leave a note like that? I mean, it seems obvious it’s from him, and he sounds like someone who intends to kill again.”

  “Just striving to keep an open mind.” Maybe if she said it enough, she’d sincerely view Shannon’s murder from a broader perspective.

  “How do you think he found out where your daughter’s grave is?”

  “Don’t know. I do know that I was in the news back in January, and what happened to my family was made public knowledge—again. He could have found their obits.”

  “So he’s a local.”

  “I’d say that’s a safe bet.”

  Trent pulled into the driveway of a townhouse that was one of many on a string.

  “Before we go to Keira’s door, bring up her basic info.” Amanda gestured to the onboard laptop.

  Trent clicked away, leaving the car—and the AC running. It was turning out to be a warmer day than yesterday.

  A few seconds later, he said, “Pretty straightforward. Thirty-nine, married, no record.”

  “All right. And is she Shannon’s only sibling?” She hadn’t had a chance to ask before now.

  “Yeah.”

  They got out of the vehicle and knocked on the door.

  A woman answered. She had long, brown hair, a high forehead, and a round face. “Can I help you?”

  What was about to follow was the worst part of the job. Telling people that their loved one had died had been a painful exercise before she’d lost her husband and daughter. After, even worse. There were times it felt like she was reliving that horrid day.

  “Mrs. Keira Norris?” Amanda asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Detective Amanda Steele, and this is Detective Trent Stenson, with the Prince William County PD. We need to talk with you for a moment about your sister, Shannon. Would we be able to come in and sit down?”

  Tears sprang to Keira’s eyes. “Tell me she’s okay. Please, tell me.”

  “If we could please come inside,” Amanda petitioned. Informing a person while they were sitting was easier on everyone. Shock had been known to cause people to faint or collapse.

  Keira licked her lips and let them enter. She dropped on a couch in the living room.

  Amanda and Trent followed her there and sat in a couple of chairs.

  “We’re sorry to inform you that your sister, Sh
annon Fox, was found murdered in her home this morning.” Normally, at this point, Amanda would say how the person died, but they didn’t know the exact cause yet.

  “Murdered?” Her voice was small, and she blinked rapidly, her eyelashes wet. “How, and who would…?”

  “We were hoping that you might be able to tell us if your sister had any enemies,” Amanda said.

  She sniffled, tears streaming down her face, and her eyes blanked over. “Who, ah, who found her?”

  It wasn’t uncommon for the notified to drift, and Amanda would honor the woman’s feelings by answering her question. She’d return to hers shortly. “A friend of hers named Bethany Greene. Apparently, Bethany was there to pick your sister up for a yoga class they do together. Did you know your sister did yoga?”

  “Oh, yeah. Shannon loved it, not that I ever got the appeal. I know Beth too. She’s a good lady and was good for Shannon.”

  She’d answered Amanda’s next question without knowing it.

  Keira went on. “You think it was a home invasion? A robbery? Shannon never had anything worth stealing. How did she—” She gripped the collar of her shirt.

  “We don’t know exactly how yet, but we’re still investigating. We’d like to know if you’re aware of anyone who might have wanted to hurt her.” She was finally able to circle back to her initial question.

  Keira pinched her nose, and Trent grabbed the tissue box next to him and took it to Keira.

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Trent returned to his chair.

  Keira sniffled and blew her nose a few times.

  Amanda joined her on the couch. “Did you know of anyone?” she prompted gently.

  “I never…” Fresh tears fell, and Keira dabbed her nose. “I never would have thought it would come to this.”

  Amanda straightened up and leaned toward Keira. “What, Mrs. Norris?”

  “She, uh…” Keira twisted the tissue in her hand. “She got messed up with some nutjob a few years ago. It began with mental games, then he got more and more controlling and aggressive. When he started hitting her, that’s when she left.”

  Amanda had a bad feeling where this was going. Abusive men didn’t typically let their women go without a fight. “Did he come after her?”

  “Oh, yeah. Repeatedly. He threatened to kill her. Also repeatedly.”

  Amanda glanced at Trent. This was why they had to keep an open mind. Bethany Greene hadn’t mentioned anything about this relationship, but it was possible that Shannon had kept it from her. Maybe due to shame, like she felt she deserved the abuse for some reason. It could also be as simple as Shannon believing the guy was in her past. She was just about to ask for this guy’s name when Keira spoke again.

  “Maybe he did this to her?” Another bout of crying. “He’s still around.”

  Amanda’s skin tingled. “As in recently?”

  Keira nodded. “Last week.”

  “We’re going to need his information.”

  “No worries there. If he killed my sister, you nail that son of a bitch!” Her anger toward her sister’s abuser—possible killer—burned hot but morphed quickly back to grief for her sister. Her face became shadows, and her eyes vacant. “He was freaking obsessed with her, even though he’d apparently hooked up with some other woman. Not that it stopped him from showing up at Shannon’s door from time to time. She told me I was making too much out of it, and that she had it under control.” Keira bit her bottom lip.

  “Did she get a restraining order against him?” Trent asked.

  Keira shook her head and picked at the soaked tissue in her hand. “As I said, she didn’t think he was anything she couldn’t handle. Besides, a restraining order wouldn’t have stopped the bastard. He did whatever he liked.”

  “Well, if she had gotten one, it would have given police authorization to put him in jail if he broke the terms.” Amanda hated that her words made it sound like Shannon was to blame for the harassment.

  “Sure, okay, but then he’d just get out and return to the streets angrier than before.”

  Amanda had nothing to say to that. The system wasn’t perfect. She watched as Keira turned the tissues into shreds. “You and your sister were close,” she said kindly in offer of support.

  “Very. We were all we had. Our parents weren’t any type of role models.”

  As they’d learned from Bethany… “Sorry to hear that, and so very sorry for your loss. Is there someone that we could call to come be with you? Your husband?”

  Keira dabbed her nose. “We separated last month. He was a cheating piece of shit.”

  “Anyone else?” Amanda’s heart broke for this woman.

  “Nah, I’ll make some calls myself.”

  “If you’re sure.” Amanda inched forward on the couch. “Before we go, we’ll need that man’s information.”

  “Not really a man in my opinion, but his name’s Sean Fitzgerald. He lives in town.” Keira proceeded to give them his address, which Trent recorded in his notebook.

  They said their goodbyes, and once back in the car, Trent brought up the ex’s background in the computer.

  “He’s forty-eight, and he’s a piece of work all right,” Trent said. “Guy’s got a record. Drug possession, and charges of domestic abuse and assault.”

  “Let’s go meet him.”

  Twenty-One

  “What the f—” The door swung open, mid-knock and mid-sentence.

  The man standing in the doorway, with his large gut and wide girth, would have intimidated a lot of people. Not Amanda. Not given what Keira had told them. Not with what his criminal record had revealed.

  She held up her badge. “Detective Amanda Steele with the Prince William County PD. My partner, Detective Trent Stenson, and I would like to talk to you about Shannon Fox.”

  “Oh, yeah.” He crossed his arms, which were like tree trunks and heavily tattooed.

  She stepped to within a few inches of him. “She was found murdered this morning. You have something to do with that?” She was primed to drag his ass to the station. She just needed him to give her one teeny reason.

  He started to laugh. “She’s, ah, what now?”

  “Murdered,” Amanda hissed. “We understand that you—”

  “Threatened to kill her? Yeah, I’d admit to that.”

  She should be appalled by his blatant audacity, but guys like Sean lacked the ability to shock her. “Okay… Did you act on your threat?”

  Another laugh. “Bitch wasn’t worth my time. Can’t say I’m surprised she drove someone to it, though.”

  With every word from the man’s mouth, Amanda’s temper ratcheted.

  He arrogantly carried on. “It was fun toying with her. Making her a little loco.” He spun a finger in a circle next to his ear and grinned.

  She curled her hands into fists but coaxed herself into relaxing them. She didn’t need this loser viewing it as a threat from the police. “We’re going to need to know where you were between four and six this morning.”

  He turned around to the inside of the house and yelled, “Tara!”

  There was some thumping, then obvious padding of footsteps heading toward the door.

  Sean stepped to the side, leaving room for this small woman to stand next to him in the doorway. He draped his arm over her, hanging it on her like a treacherous vine. “Tell this detective where I was this morning between four and six.”

  The woman had dark circles under her eyes, and it looked like she had a fresh cut on her chin. Amanda imagined that this asshole had struck her not long before their arrival.

  “Tell them.” He nudged Tara in her side, and she winced.

  Amanda guessed he might have hit her in the ribs. It was usually best in suspected abuse cases like this to play it cool, but it was taking all of her control not to haul off and hit the guy. Maybe give him a taste of his own medicine.

  “Ah, Sean was in bed with me.” Tara’s voice was weak and unsure.

  “Uh-h
uh, that’s right.” The baboon was grinning. “We was—” He mimed the rest by thrusting his hips forward and back.

  “For two hours? You? I highly doubt it. Less than two minutes, that I’d believe.” She knew she was antagonizing him, but that was the least of what she wanted to do.

  Sean grimaced. “No, lady, I’m just that good at pleasuring the ladies.”

  Trent stepped closer to the man. “What you think and what you are—likely two very different things.”

  His smile faded, and he scowled at Trent, but he looked back at Amanda. “When I wasn’t giving it to her, I was sleeping. Ain’t that right, baby?” Again, he nudged her.

  “That’s right.” Tara’s gaze was on the ground.

  “Okay. You need anything, call me.” Amanda extended her card to Tara, but Sean swatted it out of the way, and it fluttered to the front step.

  Trent picked it up and pressed it to Sean’s chest. “You dropped something.”

  Sean stared at him. “She don’t need your deets. Get outta here.”

  Trent didn’t budge.

  Amanda pried her eyes from her partner and Sean to look at Tara, but she was gone. She must have returned inside. “Let’s go, Detective Stenson.”

  “You heard her.” Sean smiled smugly. “Do as the bitch tells you.”

  Trent lunged forward, but Amanda grabbed his arm and shook her head. “It’s not worth it.”

  Trent huffed but relented and returned to the car. She caught up with him.

  In the vehicle, she stated the obvious, “The guy got under your skin.”

  “You could say that.”

  Amanda could tell that what they’d just witnessed struck close for Trent. “Guys like that piss me off too, but I learned a long time ago you can’t help everyone. The women who get caught up with these losers get themselves locked in a cycle of abuse. It’s really hard to break them free, and there’s no chance if they don’t want to help themselves.”

  “I’m well aware.”

  She usually tried to avoid getting too personal with Trent but… Screw it! “Someone you cared about was abused?”

  “Yeah.”

 

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