Cold Dawn

by Susan Sleeman

  “My office is this way.” He held out a hand toward a glass door on the far wall.

  He led them down a hallway and into a room large enough for five offices. His desk was gleaming glass, as were many bookshelves and the round conference table that he gestured for them to sit at. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

  “I wouldn’t mind some coffee,” Griff said, mostly to see how the guy would handle the request.

  He responded with a clipped nod. “And you, Samantha?”

  She looked uncomfortable, likely because the guy kept using her full name, which she never liked, but oddly enough she didn’t correct him. “Coffee would be nice.”

  He called his assistant to get it and sat with them. “Now. You said you wanted to talk about Andy Hollis.

  Sam nodded. “Unfortunately he died in a fire on Monday.”

  “Oh. Oh, goodness. How tragic.” Flint’s reserved sincerity seemed spot on for the impression Griff was forming of the man.

  “It’s even more tragic than you might think.” She paused and locked gazes. “The fire was started on purpose.”

  “He was killed?” An honest expression of shock crossed his face.

  The assistant, a slim blond with a short, tight skirt and plunging neckline, brought in a tray with mugs, sugar, and creamer. She placed it on the table. Griff and Sam thanked her, but Flint just sat back, looking like he deserved to be served.

  “Do you think his death is related to working here?” Flint asked the moment his assistant exited. “Is that why you’ve come?”

  Griff dumped a generous portion of sugar in the nearest mug and stirred.

  Sam took a mug, but didn’t add any cream or sugar. “We’re just trying to form a clear picture of his life. He worked here for so many years but abruptly quit, so we wanted to ask about that.”

  “Did he tell you he quit?” Flint asked.

  Sam nodded and sipped her coffee. Griff kept his gaze on Flint, but lifted his coffee to his mouth.

  “I’m sorry, but we had to let him go.” Flint looked genuinely sad about it, but Griff thought it was all an act because Mr. Hollis said Flint didn’t like Andy.

  “He embezzled from a client,” Flint continued.

  Griff nearly spit out his coffee. “That doesn’t sound like Andy.”

  “It’s the quiet ones you have to watch for.”

  “Do you have proof?” Sam asked.

  “Of course.” Flint raised his shoulders. “And a confession. We wouldn’t risk firing him otherwise.”

  “But you didn’t report it to the police,” Griff stated. “Why not?”

  “Andy paid back the money, and that’s why we didn’t press charges. That and the publicity. We couldn’t afford a scandal.”

  Griff easily believed that. This guy was all about image. His appearance. The company’s appearance. Keeping high-end clients. But Andy embezzling money? That was a serious crime. How could Andy have done something like that?

  Griff would have to get to the bottom of it and that meant asking additional questions. “Tell me about Andy’s coworkers. Did he get along with them?”

  “Sure, in a way that a wallflower might. He hung around. Went to all the office parties, but he didn’t have any real friends.”

  Sam set down her mug. “Did he date anyone that you know of?”

  “He tried. I mean he asked out many of the single women who work here. I had to talk to him about that once. To tell him to cool it. The women were getting uncomfortable.” Flint let out a long breath. “All in all, I think he was a very lonely guy. Didn’t even have pets due to allergies, I’m told.”

  He hooked his hands together on the table. “But other than the theft, he was a good, hard worker. I hoped his return to a smaller town would be a good choice for him. I’m honestly sorry to hear someone killed him.”

  “Can you think of anyone who might want to do that?” Sam asked.

  “You mean someone who works here?” He gaped at her. “No. No. No one knew about the theft except me. Not even the client. So I know it’s not related to that.”

  “Would you mind if we talked to your employees? The ones who were the closest to Andy?” Sam offered that barely-there smile again.

  “Sure. I guess that would be Oscar Medina. His cubicle was next to Andy’s, and they seemed to be friendly enough.”

  “Does a Tina, Rachel, or Kaitlyn work here?” Sam asked.

  Flint tilted his head for a moment then shook it. “But I could be wrong about that. Let me check with HR while you talk to Oscar.” He stood. “Hang tight, and I’ll get him in here.”

  He started for his door, but stopped. “I’d ask that you don’t divulge the theft. It’s not public knowledge, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “Of course,” Sam said.

  After Flint stepped out, Griff turned to Sam. “I honestly don’t believe Andy stole the money. And I hate that Flint said he didn’t have any friends. His life sounds like it was so lonely.”

  Sam sighed. “They have proof of the theft. Or at least he claims they have proof.”

  “I still don’t see Andy one day suddenly deciding to become a thief. So maybe someone put him up to it, and he did it because he thought he’d make a friend.”

  “That seems possible.”

  The door opened and a guy in a fancy suit and pricey haircut sauntered in.

  “Oscar Medina.” He held out his hand as he joined them at the table.

  Sam introduced them. “We’re friends of Andy Hollis.”

  “Brad just told me about the fire. Tragic.”

  “Were the two of you friends?” Sam asked, her tone light but her gaze intense.

  “Friends?” Oscar dropped into a chair and tapped his chin. “Yeah, I guess. Work friends. Nothing outside work, but we helped each other out here. Had each other’s backs. Though he needed my help more than I needed his. But hey, we’re put on this earth to work together. Am I right?”

  “Can you think of anyone who would want to kill Andy?” Sam asked.

  “What? He was murdered? Brad said a fire, but…oh wow. Man. That’s rough.” Oscar scrubbed a hand over his face. “No. I mean no one really connected with Andy, but they didn’t dislike him either. We were all kind of neutral. Lately, maybe the last six months, he’d been okay, but before that he got annoying when he kept trying to get us to hang with him after work. Other than that.” He shrugged. “Yeah. I mean. He was an okay guy.”

  “Did he ever ask you to come to Rugged Point with him?” Sam asked.

  “Yeah, me and everyone else.” He chuckled. “Gotta give the guy credit for being determined.”

  “Is there a Tina, Rachel, or Kaitlyn who work here?”

  Oscar shook his head. “At least not in our department. But Brad could tell you better than I can.”

  Sam fell silent, so Griff picked up the ball. “Can you give us your cell number in case we have follow-up questions?”

  “Sure.” He shared the number, and Griff put it in his phone. “Is there anyone else close to Andy that you think we should talk to?”

  “Nah, man, like I said. We weren’t even close.” Oscar stood, abruptly cutting off the interview. “As much as I’d like to help, I really didn’t know Andy that well. And time is money so I’ve got to get back to work.”

  “I—” Sam said then let her voice fall off. “Thanks.”

  He hurried from the room.

  “What were you going to say?” Griff asked.

  “I almost mentioned the funeral, but then I thought it didn’t sound like Andy had any close friends who would come. And embezzling from the company? His parents don’t need to hear about that.” Tears shone in her eyes.

  “I wish we hadn’t heard it either.” Griff took her hand in his and held it tight. “I hate to think a guy I called friend had such a tough time here, and I didn’t know it.”

  “I’m not trying to find an excuse—I feel just as bad—but he obviously didn’t want us to know.”

  “Ye
ah, but as you said, that’s no excuse. If we spent more time with him maybe he would have shared more.”

  “You’re totally right.” She drew in a deep breath. “After Flint comes back from checking with HR, let’s get out of here to look at his car and interview Nolan. Maybe we can at least make up for things by finding his killer.”

  12

  The morning had gone pretty much as Sam had expected. She’d vowed this morning when she’d gotten up that she would keep an upbeat and positive attitude around Griff, and she’d accomplished that. At least until they interviewed Brad and Oscar. Then her good mood disappeared, and now as she climbed into the old truck, she had to dig deep not to cry over what they’d discovered about Andy’s life here in Portland.

  He lived some kind of secret life that she never imagined—embezzlement? And what about him bragging he was going to make a ton of money? What was that about? She should have found a way to stay friends with him after the awkward proposal.

  Her phone dinged, and she was thankful for the interruption. She got out her phone. “It’s from Eryn. She wants me to call her right away. She suggested a video call.”

  Griff put the keys in the ignition and faced Sam, his eyes narrowed. “Are video calls normal for her, or should I be worried about this?”

  “Not normal, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s bad,” Sam said, trying to convince herself of that very fact. “Feel free to move closer if you want to join in the call.”

  He slid across the bench seat, his leg connecting with hers, the corded muscles of his thigh drawing her focus. She would normally be jumping away from him, but she was eager to hear what Eryn had to say.

  “Hey,” Eryn said, looking serious. She was such a cheerful and upbeat person that Sam knew something was terribly wrong, and her heart dropped. She took a long breath and hoped for the best.

  Eryn held up a sheaf of papers. “Andy’s autopsy report.”

  Sam’s stomach tightened, and she knew she didn’t want to hear the details of his death, but she would have to if she was going to find his killer. “Bad?”

  She nodded. “How much do you want to know?”

  “All of it, I guess,” Sam said, though honestly, if he suffered terribly, she still didn’t want to know how he died.

  Eryn took a long breath. “Let me start by telling you Andy didn’t have any smoke in his lungs.”

  Sam didn’t expect this news. Didn’t expect it at all. She looked up at Griff. His eyes were wide, and he looked as stunned as she felt.

  “How could that be?” she asked but knew the answer. “He was dead before the fire started.”

  “How did he die?” Griff asked, his expression somber.

  “It was a sudden cardiac death. He had a heart condition.” Eryn lifted the papers and looked at them. “Ebstein's anomaly. On post-mortem examination the ME discovered an unrecognized right ventricular non-compaction. Not sure what that means, but it’s listed as his cause of death.”

  Griff shook his head in slow relentless sweeps. “His parents just told us about his heart condition yesterday. Maybe if we’d known, we could’ve prevented his death.”

  Tears welled up in Sam’s eyes, and her throat closed. She swallowed hard. “So I assume he wasn’t murdered and the ME declared his manner of death as natural.”

  “Actually, no.” Eryn looked down at the report again. “The ME found the thin membrane called the frenulum was torn. It’s inside his mouth between the upper and lower lips and attaches to the gums. This can happen naturally in an epileptic seizure, but he didn’t have epilepsy.”

  Sam looked at Griff again, and he seemed as confused as she was.

  “So how did it happen then?” Sam asked.

  “Says here that the frenulum is often damaged in a physical manual strangulation. Like when something—especially a hand—is pressed tightly over the mouth. The frenulum gets ground against the teeth.”

  “So it is a homicide, then.” Sam felt no joy over the confirmation.

  “No,” Eryn said quickly. “Not officially anyway. The ME’s classifying it as suspicious because a torn frenulum doesn’t always indicate foul play. Most of the time it does, but he can’t be certain because there were no fingermarks or other bruises left near his mouth.”

  Sam let the thought settle in for a moment and work through how this news impacted the investigation. “There might be prints or DNA there, though.”

  “Exactly, and Blake’s team has been called in to take care of recovering a sample.”

  “That’s not good enough,” Sam snapped. “Not for Andy. We need a DNA expert to handle this. Not some county criminalist and state lab processing.”

  Griff looked at her. “Sounds like you’re thinking about Emory.”

  “I am.” Sam met Eryn’s gaze. “You remember the Veritas Center and Emory, right, Eryn?”

  Eryn nodded. “Great place but pricey. If you’re thinking of using them, we’ll need to get Gage to agree to pay for it, plus Blake will have to agree to let them process it.”

  “If Gage says no, I’ll foot the cost,” Griff offered.

  “We can split it,” Sam said, not wanting to be beholden to Griff for anything. “I’ll call Gage right now. Thanks, Eryn.”

  “Let me know if you want to read the actual report, and I’ll email it to you.”

  Sam didn’t like the thought of seeing the details in writing. “I don’t really want to, but I think I should. Just in case something jumps out at me.”

  “Then I’m sending it right now. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  “Thanks, Eryn. You’re the best.”

  “Don’t you know it.” Eryn wrinkled her nose and disconnected the call.

  “You know this could mean the fire didn’t have anything to do with Andy’s death, right?” Griff asked.

  Sam hadn’t even considered that, but he could be right. “You’re thinking Andy’s body was there and whoever started the fire didn’t know it?”

  “Yeah, maybe. Or it’s possible the fire was started to cover up his death.”

  “That seems more likely.” Sam dialed Gage, and she waited for Griff to slide behind the wheel again, but he remained glued to her side.

  “You can move now,” she said wryly. “I’m not doing a video call.”

  “Oh, yeah, right.” He eased away.

  When Gage answered, she put him on speaker and explained her desire to hire Emory to collect and process the DNA. “Are you familiar with their lab?”

  “I’ve heard of them, but we’ve never used them.”

  Sam couldn’t tell if he was opposed to using the Veritas Center or not. “I know they’re pricey, but I’d feel more comfortable with Emory collecting the DNA. By now Andy’s face has likely been touched by various people and it could be complicated finding the right DNA samples.”

  “Get an estimate and text me the cost when you get it,” Gage answered noncommittally, in contrast to his usual straightforward decision-making.

  “Will do, but if the cost exceeds our budget, Griff and I are good with paying for it, so that’s not really an issue. All we need is Blake’s approval.”

  “Honestly, I can’t see him refusing. I mean, us paying for an expert to do the work? Why would he argue?”

  “Because he’s Blake,” she said dryly.

  Gage laughed. “We’ve been friends for years, so just in case, let me call him.”

  “Perfect. Let me know when he agrees.”

  “Before you go,” Gage said. “I should mention that I heard from the fire marshal. The arson samples you recovered didn’t reveal any ILRs.”

  “I really didn’t expect them to, but thanks for handling that for me.” She stated she’d get the billing estimate from Emory and disconnected the call.

  She looked at Griff. “Shocking news about how Andy died.”

  He nodded.

  “I’m glad to hear that he didn’t suffer in the fire.” She sighed a breath of relief. “And it totally explains why he
didn’t take shelter in the walk-in cooler.”

  Griff gripped the wheel tightly. “I still think he was murdered and the fire was started to cover it up. Though without the recovery of any ILR’s, we have no forensic proof of arson.”

  “Evidence or not, we all know someone started the fire.” She met his gaze and held it. “There’s no other explanation for how it broke out. And now with the ME declaring Andy’s death suspicious, Blake will have to open an investigation.”

  Griff pressed his lips together for a moment. “You’re not planning to back off because of that, are you?”

  “Me?” She shook her head hard. “No. No way.”

  “Good, because I’m more determined than ever.” Griff kept his gaze connected to hers. “Now we just need to figure out our next step and get to it.”

  “No question about that in my mind.” She smiled because for the first time in a few days, she was truly excited about something. “It’s time to head to one of my very favorite places. The Veritas Center.”

  Griff looked up at the tall glass structure with two towers connected in the middle by a curved glass entrance on the ground and at the top by a breezeway. Sunlight sparkled and twinkled from the glass. Sam said the building was unique and beautiful, but her description didn’t do it justice.

  “Wow,” he said. “This had to cost a pretty penny to build. Must be a lot of money to be made in private forensics.”

  “Actually, they didn’t build it.” Sam started up the steps leading to the main entrance. She held the evidence bag with the straw and lid plus the package with DNA swabs from the locking bar in her hands. “One of the owners inherited the building from her grandfather. Was an unoccupied mixed-use building at the time.”

  He glanced at her. “One of the owners? How many are there?”

  “Six. Each an expert in the different specialties I mentioned. The current team came together during the last five years, retrofitting the west tower as their lab, and they live in condos in the east tower.”

  He pulled open the door and stood back to let Sam enter the soaring glass foyer. Sunlight highlighted the curved glass wall staircase leading up to a landing with a secured door and fingerprint reader on the wall. Modern leather chairs and sofas were grouped near the stairway. Two couples sat filling out forms, their expressions tense and concerned. Griff could only imagine what information they must be seeking. On the wall above them the center’s motto—Connecting Loved Ones Around the World—was painted in bright red circling a black globe.