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Still Life

Page 24

by Dani Pettrey


  The sweater Avery had found in Sebastian’s storage room.

  “I wanted to keep something of hers from everyday to remember her by.”

  That was literally the most repugnant confession Parker had ever heard, but they’d gotten the general location of Skylar’s body, and when they found her, Parker would be on site ASAP.

  Jason told Sebastian to write out his story—until they had confirmation otherwise, it was a story. If it was the truth, his confession was what they’d need to put him away for a good number of crimes, not excluding impeding a murder investigation.

  Kate called to confirm that Kyle Eason was in fact the owner of a red Porsche. He then asked her to work through Avery’s pictures, find the numbers scratched into the wood, and hopefully get a match to Kyle Eason’s Porsche.

  Maybe this was about blackmail after all.

  But Sebastian . . .

  46

  Can you tell me who rented Room 110 on August eighteenth?” Griffin asked the front-desk receptionist after calculating the room in question based on Sebastian’s description of its location in the hotel.

  The receptionist verified Griffin’s badge, then said, “Let me look.” She typed on the computer, her red nails clicking across the white keyboard. “Room 110 was rented that night by a Mr. Abraham Jeffries.”

  Surely an alias.

  “Any chance you have a credit card on file?”

  She looked back to her computer and shook her head, her brown hair pulled up tight into a bun fixed in the center of the back of her head. Griffin only noticed it when she turned, the shape reminiscent of a coffee roll from Dunkin’ Donuts.

  “It looks like Mr. Jeffries paid cash.”

  Of course he did. “Does that happen often?” he asked. Wasn’t that an alert to the hotel staff of nefarious activity?

  “You’d be surprised how often.” She leaned forward, her brown eyes darting both ways to be sure they were alone—though it was nearly the middle of the night, the lobby stone silent. “Couples hooking up,” she whispered. “If you know what I mean. The married-to-other-people ones.”

  “I got ya. Can you tell which staff member checked Mr. Jeffries in that day?”

  “Sure. Let me look at the reservation. Okay . . . it was Carla Jacobs.”

  “Is Carla working tonight?”

  “No. I’m afraid not.”

  “Okay. I’m going to need Carla’s phone number and address.”

  “I’ll get it for you, but you won’t be able to reach her.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “She’s in Brazil with her parents. She might answer her cell, but I doubt her folks paid for roaming.”

  He’d at least try. If they could get a physical description, it would go a long way in either confirming or disputing Sebastian’s claim.

  He slid Skylar’s picture across the desk. “Any chance you saw this lady?”

  “Her I saw.”

  “How’s that if you don’t remember Mr. Jeffries, if you didn’t check him in?”

  “Because the lady didn’t check in with Mr. Jeffries. She entered the front door as I was heading out for the night. I held the door for her and she winked her thanks.”

  “You’ve got a good memory.”

  “Look at her. She’s gorgeous. I mean I’m straight and all—don’t get me wrong—but a woman that striking is memorable.”

  “Unfortunately, she’s also dead.”

  “What?”

  “She was killed that night.”

  “Oh no. I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “We’re going to need to examine Room 110.”

  “You think it happened here?” Her eyes widened, and she paled.

  “We need to check the room to be certain.”

  “Okay, but there are guests in it now.”

  “I’m afraid you’re going to have to move them.”

  Griffin called two hours after leaving the station, which meant he’d definitely found some answers.

  Parker answered. “Hey, man.”

  “Hey. One of the receptionists here remembers seeing Skylar enter, but never saw the man. Another receptionist rented the room to a man going by Abraham Jeffries, but she’s in Brazil with her family. We’re trying to track her down.”

  “So Kyle, if he’s our guy, used an alias. No surprise there. Let me guess. He paid cash too?”

  “You got it. I checked the room. It’s been cleaned, but I found an earring under the bed we can hope Skylar lost in the struggle. I definitely want to speak with housekeeping, see if they remember the room looking disheveled in any way.”

  “All right. Cordon off the room until I get there,” Parker said.

  “That might be a while,” Jason said behind him.

  He turned, took one look at Jason’s face, and knew they’d found the body.

  Parker followed Jason through the muddy wooded area, the brackish water rank on the humid night air. Griffin was en route, the hotel room now cordoned off and an officer standing guard until they could process the room. But what they’d found here was much more vital. They’d found the garment bag and the cadaver dog had indicated a dead body, but they’d waited for Parker’s arrival before opening it.

  He’d brought another crime-scene photographer with him. There was no way he’d let Avery work the scene. He hoped to have most of the scene processed before he alerted her. Though, to be honest, if it were his friend, he would have insisted, just as he knew Avery would, had she known.

  Making sure the entire scene was photographed, along with the garment bag as they found it, Parker pulled back the zipper, and the breath left his lungs in a rush.

  Megan Kent?

  47

  What on earth was going on? “Are there any other bodies?” Parker asked, his voice choked. Where was Skylar? And when had Megan been killed?

  “No, sir,” the K9 officer said. “We’ve canvassed the entire area, though there are what look to be fresh tire tracks leading in.”

  What kind of sick game was Sebastian playing?

  Good thing he’d held off on calling Avery. He would have gotten her all upset when it wasn’t even her friend’s body. Though, poor Megan. They’d just spoken with her. Hours ago.

  Had Sebastian seen and killed her for talking with them? Had they fought over the images they’d shown Megan? Was it possible he had killed her and had time to dump her body? They’d only stopped for takeout, and Sebastian was in Avery’s home within an hour of their leaving Megan. The timing bordered on the impossible. “Call Brent Dixon in.”

  “You’re not going to process the scene?” Jason said.

  Brent was the second best in the business.

  “I need to get back to the station.” Before word of this spreads. Sebastian had been at Avery’s at eleven and had been in custody ever since. There was no way he could have dumped the body.

  He called Avery, explained they found Megan, not Skylar, and asked her to meet him at the station.

  And twenty minutes later she walked into the viewing room. He explained a bit more about what they found, but left out some of the details because she appeared to be reaching the brink of her self-control. “Officers found fresh tire tracks. Dixon is getting impressions.”

  “How fresh?”

  Parker had taken time to inspect them before leaving. His guess was sometime in the last hour or two. Something was very off. “Pretty fresh.”

  “Then that means . . . ?” She looked at Sebastian.

  “Yes, he couldn’t have dumped Megan. So it is likely he did not kill her. And I am coming to believe his claims about Skylar are true too.” He took her hand and kissed her on the cheek. “I have to join Griffin in the interrogation room. He wants me in there to question Sebastian about what I assessed on the scene.”

  She nodded, clearly still stunned by the news. Sebastian couldn’t be in two places at once, but Sebastian innocent meant . . .

  Parker entered right as Griffin picked up the picture of Megan Kent he’d prin
ted out from the image Jason had texted him from the scene. Just her face nestled in the garment bag.

  Parker sat back, waiting to see how Sebastian would react.

  “What are you trying to pull?” Griffin asked, sliding the picture across the table to Sebastian.

  Sebastian’s face slackened, his eyes widening, shock dousing any earlier cockiness. “Wh-where’d you get this?”

  “Where do you think? Right where you dumped her body. Pretty sick to tell us Skylar Pierce’s body was there when it was your girlfriend’s body instead.”

  Sebastian shook his head, his expression dazed. “What are you talking about? Megan’s not dead. It’s Skylar who’s dead. Skylar who’s in the garment bag in the woods.”

  “We sent officers and cadaver dogs right where you told us to go, and the only body there was Megan’s. Why is that, Sebastian?”

  Sebastian stared at the photo in complete shock and then straightened, anger replacing the fear in his brown eyes. “Is this some kind of sick joke?”

  “I was about to ask you the same thing,” Griffin said.

  Sebastian stood and paced. “I don’t understand.” He raked a trembling hand through his messy-style brown hair. “You’re saying Megan’s really dead? Someone killed her?”

  “Yeah, you. What? Were you trying to get her out of the house so you could bring Avery in? Is that your new studio?”

  “You think I’d kill Megan for studio space?”

  “I think you’d kill for a variety of sick reasons that I don’t pretend to comprehend.”

  “I didn’t kill my girlfriend.”

  “But you killed Skylar Pierce?”

  “No. I didn’t kill anyone.”

  An officer cracked the door, leaned in, and handed a slip of paper to Griffin. He read it. “ME confirms your assessment on site,” he said to Parker and then turned to Sebastian. “Based on body temp, looks like your girlfriend couldn’t have been dead for more than a couple hours before the police found her body.”

  “A couple hours?” Sebastian’s voice heightened as he retook his seat, his knee bobbing rapidly up and down. “You mean he killed her tonight?”

  “He?”

  “It had to be the man who killed Skylar. It’s the only thing that makes sense. He must have found out that I saw him, and he freaked and wanted to make me look guiltier, so he killed Megan.”

  “Can I see that?” Parker asked Griffin for the paper containing the ME’s initial call from in the field. If they were correct—and there was no reason to assume otherwise—then the timing for Sebastian to kill Megan was impossible. Sebastian was telling the truth. Someone was trying to set him up but—not knowing he would be in police custody at the time of the murder—had actually established his innocence.

  “Detective McCray?” An officer stood in the doorway, signaling him to step out.

  Griffin lifted his chin. “I’ll be right back.” He stepped from the room.

  Sebastian studied Parker as Parker studied him.

  “You know I’m telling the truth, don’t you?” Sebastian said.

  Griffin reentered and tossed another photograph to Sebastian. “So you’re suggesting the killer liked to take photographs of dead girls too?”

  Sebastian’s eyes widened. “He photographed her?”

  The killer had photographed Megan. There’s no way Sebastian could have time to do any of that. “May I see that?” Parker asked.

  Sebastian handed it over. “That’s not my work. Not even close. And I would never pose her like that.”

  As demented as Sebastian was, Parker actually believed him. He studied the image. It was rushed. Nothing like that of Skylar.

  “Jason sent officers to their home,” Griffin said under his breath to Parker. “They found the staging still there, images on the camera and downloaded to Sebastian’s laptop. He forwarded a few images here, as you can see.”

  “Is that where she was killed?” Parker asked.

  “We’ll need to run the place, but it definitely appears to be the crime scene,” Griffin answered.

  “I can’t believe this.” Sebastian’s knee bobbed faster, his hands shaking. “I can’t believe he killed her.”

  “Can I share this image with Avery?” Parker asked Griff, wanting a professional photographer’s opinion on the comparison to Sebastian’s work.

  Griffin nodded. “Of course.”

  Parker took the photograph into the viewing room, where Avery reached for it as soon as he entered.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  She studied it. “This is the work of a complete amateur.”

  “In what way? Clearly the staging is completely different. The outfit she’s wearing is an everyday one. She’s just placed on the couch, but what else?”

  “The body is positioned completely wrong to accent the critical beauty features of a woman,” Avery said, “and the lighting is flat. When you photograph women you need lighting such that the shadows are not harsh, but they accent the woman’s features. Beyond that the white balance is all wrong.”

  “Meaning his camera settings were off?”

  “If we go to Megan’s and check the camera used, I bet we find the settings are way off. Maybe we’ll get prints if we’re lucky.”

  “Good idea. I hate to think Sebastian innocent. . . .” For a myriad of reasons. “But the timeline isn’t adding up.”

  Megan Kent’s home was filled with police as Parker, Avery, and Griffin arrived. Jason had remained with Sebastian, feeling he was on the verge of cracking.

  Avery slipped gloves on and removed the bagged and tagged camera, and her initial assessment held true. “Settings are exactly as I imagined they’d be. Set for outdoor lighting. The white balance is all wrong, making the light appear overly warm—yellow almost bordering on orange in hue.”

  “Good job.” Parker squeezed her shoulder. For being basically self-taught, Avery was a natural.

  “It’s set so time stamps don’t show on the images. No photographer wants annoying red digits in the bottom right-hand corner of their work, but . . .” She pressed a series of buttons. “Ah-ha. Whoever took the photos didn’t realize or didn’t care that the time stamps are still held according to image number in the camera’s memory chip. Look when the photos of Megan were taken.”

  She tilted the camera for him to see.

  12:30 a.m.

  “When Sebastian was already in custody. There’s no way he could have killed Megan.”

  “So who do you think killed her?”

  Parker’s cell rang. “It’s Kate. Let’s pray she has confirmed the license plate number.” He answered. “Hey, Kate.”

  “You’re right. The license plate number is assigned to Kyle Eason’s car.”

  48

  Jason isn’t going to be happy,” Griffin said as they reentered the station and strode into the interrogation room.

  “Why would Jason be unhappy?” Avery asked. “Doesn’t he want to catch the real killer?”

  Parker understood the frustration. “We had a strong case against Sebastian. Making one against Kyle Eason is going to mean starting from scratch. And with his dad’s prominence in the community, it’ll mean a ton of legal interference from the Easons’ lawyer.”

  “But if he’s the real killer . . .” Avery said.

  “I know. I never would have pegged it. His girlfriend, maybe. She’s scary enough, not to mention manipulative.”

  “And ticked about her boyfriend’s infidelity. Had no love lost for Skylar, and she carries that air of entitlement, thinking herself above others.”

  Parker arched a brow. “Or the law?”

  “She could have taken Kyle’s car to that hotel, used his phone to lure Skylar there.”

  “But Sebastian watched a man leave with the garment bag.”

  “Maybe she orchestrated it but had Kyle do it. Might have even stayed behind and cleaned up. Just didn’t answer the door when Sebastian knocked.”

  “We’re going to need to
search Kyle Eason’s car.”

  “Yeah.” Avery shook her head. “But if he used a garment bag with both Megan and Skylar, there probably won’t be any physical evidence.”

  “Maybe not, but we might find evidence of the garment bag—a loose string, a fiber off of it. It’s not ironclad, but it’s a start.”

  “I wonder if Griffin is planning to bring Kyle Eason in and put him in a lineup.” Avery looked about to collapse, but she clearly wasn’t going to give up on this lead. “See if Sebastian recognizes him from that night.”

  “He said he never got a straight-on look, but it’s worth a shot.” Parker sighed and rubbed his brow.

  Avery frowned. “What?”

  “I can’t believe we’re actually trying to prove Sebastian Chadwyck’s innocence.”

  “What I find perplexing is how he—being the creep that he is—could treat Skylar’s body with such disregard but nearly break down in tears at the thought that someone else did that with Megan.”

  “He was obsessed with Skylar, but he cared about Megan.”

  “How does someone so disturbed truly care about anyone?”

  “Think of the serial killers who are married with kids, living double lives. It makes no sense, other than it’s evil and therefore beyond comprehension.”

  Jason and Griffin walked out of the interrogation room, Jason—as Griffin had predicted—looking none too happy. “We’re on our way to pick up Kyle Eason,” Griffin said. “We should be back shortly.”

  “Sounds good.” Parker waved and turned to Avery. “Now the question is, where is Skylar’s body?”

  “I can’t imagine he moved her far,” Avery said.

  “Or he picked another place he felt she wouldn’t be found,” Parker said.

  “But he’d have to put research into that, and tonight he didn’t have time. He had to go someplace familiar. If he’s trying to frame Sebastian . . .” Avery said.

  “Perhaps he moved Skylar’s body closer to Sebastian.” Parker felt a pull, a certainty that they were on the right track. “That way her body isn’t where Sebastian said it was, which makes him look like a liar, and if it’s found someplace that ties to Sebastian, it makes him look even guiltier.”

 

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