“I know.” He lifted a hand and cupped her cheek. “It’s my honor.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. As always, the bone-deep connection between them stunned her for a few seconds. How could this have happened so quickly? She’d only really known him for six months. She pulled back, letting her hands rest on his chest. “Thank you.”
He rested his hands on her lower back. “Anytime.”
“I wish I could go home with you.”
He inhaled deeply. “So do I.” He slid his hand beneath the hem of the back of her shirt. He splayed his fingers across the bare skin of her lower back. Heat radiated from his touch.
“That’s not fair.” She kissed him again, then pushed away. “See you in the morning.”
When they would inform two families that their missing loved ones had been murdered.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Matt stood next to Bree at the base of a circular driveway worthy of a resort and studied the big property. The Parsons owned a hundred-acre estate outside of town. There was nothing in sight but lush grass, mature trees, and flowers in bloom. “Sharp said the Parsons had money. He wasn’t kidding.”
The main house was the size of a hotel.
Bree checked her watch.
“We’re a few minutes early,” Matt said. “Sharp will be here soon.”
“I know.” Without taking her eyes off the house, she asked, “Did you look at my parents’ file?”
“Yes.” It hadn’t taken as long as he’d expected—not as long as it should have. The thickness of the file belied the thinness of the investigation. Sure, there were plenty of crime scene photos and full autopsy reports. But the actual investigation had been almost cursory. He’d found one heartbreaking picture of the three children in the police station. The younger two had been asleep, but Bree had been awake, her hazel eyes wide open over deep, dark undereye circles, as if she’d had no intention of ever sleeping again. Even at the age of eight, she’d known what had happened. Those eyes had processed everything and understood that her entire world had imploded.
He’d reviewed the photos of her dead mother. Blood had matted her hair and pooled around her head. Bruises had marred her delicate face and throat. Jake Taggert had been sprawled on his back several feet away. His bullet wound had been in his temple. His eyes had stared at the ceiling.
Bree had inherited her mother’s narrow face and thick brown hair. But her hazel eyes had come from her father. He’d been a vile human being. After reviewing the file, Matt wondered how she ever trusted another person in her life. The strength of her humbled him.
“Did you find anything relevant?” she asked.
“To this case?” Matt shook his head. “No.” He hesitated.
“What?”
“To be honest, there wasn’t much to investigate in your parents’ case. The scene was clear. There’s no question what happened.”
She sighed and nodded. “I know. I thought maybe there’d be background info on my father.”
He shook his head. “They noted statements from your grandparents and other family members that the marriage had been rocky, but your mother never called the police.”
“Rocky?” She huffed. “My grandparents lived in the great state of denial, and my mother didn’t call the police because she was terrified of him, with good reason.”
So, eight-year-old Bree had been the one to do it. The sheriff had included a transcript of Bree’s 911 call and had taken her statement as well. She’d been clear and incredibly articulate for a child. Matt supposed she’d learned to compartmentalize early on. The kindness of that sheriff had influenced her decision to pursue a career in law enforcement.
“Yeah.” He took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. She tightened her fingers around his for a few seconds. Tires crunched on gravel, and she pulled her hand away. A Prius pulled to the curb, and Sharp stepped out. He wore jeans and running shoes, but he’d upgraded his T-shirt for a blue button-down.
Sharp led the way to the front door. “Thanks for letting me come along. I feel like I owe the family to be here.”
“We understand,” Bree said.
The door opened. A maid in uniform stood at the entry. She clearly recognized Sharp.
“We’re here to see Mrs. Parson,” he said.
She led them across a marble foyer, down a hall, and into a sunroom. The glass walls overlooked a paver patio and sparkling pool. The air had to be eighty-five degrees. Matt started to sweat ten paces into the room.
Three people turned to face them. Gloria Parson was a thin, well-dressed older woman with a sleek bob of white hair. She wore a white cardigan sweater and navy blue slacks. Despite her age, her posture was straight. Her eyes were clear and measuring. Matt knew her to be in her eighties, but she could have passed for ten years younger.
The man was about sixty years old, tall and thin, with stooped shoulders. A woman stood at his elbow. She was about the same age, petite, with dark hair and eyes.
“This is Gloria Parson, her son, Bradley, and his wife, Nancy.” Sharp introduced Matt and Bree.
Gloria’s gaze passed over Bree and Matt and settled on Sharp. In a second, realization dawned in her eyes. She knew why they were there. She eased her body into a cushioned patio chair. When she spoke, her voice was flat. “So, you’ve finally found her.”
Bradley walked to a cart in the corner and poured a glass of water from a pitcher. He brought it to his mother. She took it but didn’t drink. Her hands shook as she set the glass on the table.
“I’m so sorry, Gloria. The medical examiner officially identified her remains.” Sharp gestured to Bree and Matt. “Sheriff Taggert and Investigator Flynn will give you the details.” He moved aside so Bree could address Jane’s mother.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Parson.” Bree sat in the chair next to the older woman and angled her body to face her.
Matt remained standing, keeping his eye on Bradley and Nancy. They stood side by side, holding hands in a touching way.
The older woman stared down at her blue-veined hands folded neatly in her lap as if she couldn’t process the information. “I knew she was dead. If she’d been alive all these years, she would have used her bank account or her credit cards. Jane didn’t rough it.” She looked up. The sharpness had faded from her eyes, and her face had paled. “This isn’t a surprise, but it’s still a shock to learn your daughter is dead.”
“What can you tell us about the night Jane disappeared?” Bree asked.
“We went to an event at the country club, and Jane drank too much.” Mrs. Parson heaved a long sigh. “I intended to get her keys and force her to drive home with me, but she left without saying goodbye. I never saw her again.”
Bree tilted her head. “Was she upset that night?”
Mrs. Parson wet her lips. “Jane had issues. She suffered from depression all her life, but when she lost her baby, something broke inside of her. She stopped trying. All she wanted to do was forget, but she couldn’t. When she went missing, we all thought she’d been in an accident somewhere remote or she’d hurt herself.” She paused for another breath. “Where did you find her?”
“Her body was found in a shallow grave on a vacant farm in Grey’s Hollow.” Bree hesitated. “That farm is owned by my brother. He and I are the ones who found her.”
“Shallow grave?” Mrs. Parson sounded confused. She twisted a huge blue-stone ring on her forefinger. “Do you know how she died?”
Bree nodded. “She was shot.”
Mrs. Parson stiffened. “Shot?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bree said.
“Suicide?” Mrs. Parson asked.
“No, ma’am.” Bree’s eyes reflected the older woman’s pain. “It was murder.”
Bradley gasped. “What?”
Confusion clouded Mrs. Parson’s eyes. “She was murdered?” She blinked and turned toward the window. But her eyes were unfocused, as if she were looking within.
Bradley poured
himself a glass of water and drank deeply. “I can’t believe it.”
“Do you know of any reason someone would have wanted to hurt Jane?” Bree asked.
Mrs. Parson shook her head.
“You’re positive she was shot?” Bradley interrupted. “She’s been gone for thirty years. How can you tell?”
Matt gave him a traffic-stop stare. Did he really want his mother to hear the grisly details?
Nancy tugged on her husband’s hand and gave him a look. “Honey, I’m sure the sheriff knows what she’s talking about. Let’s not distress your mother.”
But Mrs. Parson inhaled deeply. “No. I want to know what happened to my daughter.”
Bree’s jaw shifted, as if she were grinding her molars. “There is a bullet hole in Jane’s skull.”
Mrs. Parson flinched and squeezed her eyes shut for a few seconds. Nancy pressed a hand to the base of her throat. Bradley merely frowned. Maybe he hadn’t been so close to his sister? Even if that had been true, Matt still wanted to smack him for being insensitive to his mother.
Matt zeroed in on Bradley. “Where were you the night she disappeared? Did you attend the party?”
Bradley shook his head. “No. The kids were sick. I stayed home.” A sheen of sweat covered his forehead, and he drank more water. Was he hot or nervous?
Nancy cleared her throat. “Both of our kids had a stomach bug. It was more than one parent could handle.”
Matt remembered reading her statement in Sharp’s file. Wives lied for their husbands, didn’t they?
“Did Jane know a man named Frank Evans?” Bree reached into her pocket. She’d brought photos of Frank and Jane. She turned the headshot to face them.
No one reacted.
Bradley finished his glass. “Who is Frank Evans?”
Matt searched their faces. “His remains were buried with your sister’s.”
Shock widened Mrs. Parson’s eyes. Nancy cast a nervous glance at her husband. Bradley cocked his head, his brows drawn together.
Mrs. Parson put her hands on the arms of her chair and pushed to her feet, the motion seeming to take all her energy. She hadn’t looked frail when they’d come in, but she did now. “I need to lie down. Please excuse me.”
“Of course.” Bree stood.
Mrs. Parson paused next to Bree. “You’ll keep me informed of your investigation?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Bree nodded.
Bradley went to the doorway and called a name. The maid appeared and waited for her employer. Mrs. Parson walked slowly out of the room. By mutual, unspoken agreement, they waited for her to be out of earshot.
Matt skewered the brother with his gaze. “Did Jane have a boyfriend?”
Bradley pursed his lips in disapproval. “No. Jane liked variety. Every weekend it was a different man.” He returned to the drink cart and refilled his glass of water. “It’s possible this Frank was one of her flings.”
“Was there anything unusual about your sister’s activities in the weeks before her disappearance?” Bree asked. “Did she argue with anyone?”
Bradley stared into his water. When he spoke, his words sounded hollow. “Not that I recall. It’s been a long time.”
Matt’s instincts waved a red flag. Bradley sounded like a politician on trial. Thirty years might have passed, but surely your sister’s disappearance would make the events of that night stick with you.
Matt pressed harder. “Did your sister date married men?”
“I have no idea.” Bradley set down his glass. “I have to check on my mother. Excuse me.” He hurried from the room.
Nancy wrung her hands. Something was eating at her.
“Nancy.” Matt squared off to face her directly. “What do you remember about the week Jane disappeared?”
She offered a weak smile and looked like she wanted to follow her husband. “Not much. It was so long ago. Everything is a blur when you have young children at home.”
“Were you close to Jane?” Matt asked.
She shook her head. “We didn’t spend much time together. I didn’t have time for country club lunches every day.” Her statement was matter of fact, with no jealousy in her voice.
“Surely you could have afforded childcare,” Matt said.
Her shoulders shifted back. “I wanted to be with my kids, not pass them off to some nanny.”
Bree said, “That’s admirable.”
Nancy lifted a thin shoulder. “It’s just what I wanted. I enjoyed my kids. Not everyone does.”
“Did Jane spend any time with your kids?” Matt asked. “They were her only niece and nephew.”
A bright spot of anger flared in Nancy’s eyes. “No.”
Hot topic? Matt tilted his head but said nothing.
Nancy wasn’t a very good liar. She had no poker face. She twisted her fingers through a few heartbeats of silence before filling it. “I would never say this in front of Bradley or his mother. I wouldn’t taint Jane’s memory for them. But she could be cruel. Sometimes it felt as if she wanted to make me as unhappy as she was.” Nancy met Matt’s eyes. “When Bradley and I first got married, we wanted children right away. I had a hard time getting pregnant. Every time Jane saw us, she asked us if we were pregnant yet. This went on for years.”
“She wasn’t genuinely concerned?” Bree asked.
“No.” Nancy shook her head. “Her reminders were pointed. She would say things like, ‘It’s a shame you’re barren. Bradley so wanted children.’”
“That must have made you feel awful. Who uses the word barren?” Bree’s voice was sympathetic.
“Right?” Nancy rolled her eyes. “Jane was being dramatic.”
Bree dropped her voice conspiratorially. “You must have been angry with her.”
Nancy mashed her lips flat. “Picking on my kids was not acceptable.”
Matt asked, “Was Jane like this with Bradley too?”
“No. She never said anything when he was present.” She studied her thumbnail. “Later, our son was born with a cleft palate. You’d never know now, but it was disconcerting at the time. The surgery had to wait until he was about ten months old. Every time we saw Jane, she would say how ugly he was. She implied the birth defect was my fault.” She folded her hands, the knuckles white. “Those days were so horrible. Just getting the baby to feed was a nightmare. I had no energy left for her meanness.”
“I’ll bet you didn’t,” Bree said.
Nancy sniffed. “Bradley thought that once we had children, Jane would dote on them. After all, she’d loved her own baby. But that’s not what happened. Her bitterness couldn’t let her love our children. Eventually, I stopped bringing the kids here when Jane was home.”
Until she was gone . . .
“Did Bradley believe you?” Matt asked.
“Yes. He’s good that way.” Nancy nodded. “She picked on him when he was young. He agreed that she shouldn’t be around the children. I hate to speak ill of the dead, but I’m glad she’s gone. My grandchildren are free to visit whenever they like.”
Sharp’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t mention this when she disappeared.”
Nancy picked at a thread on the hem of her blouse. “Jane hurt other people. She might even have hurt herself, either accidentally or intentionally, but it never occurred to me that anyone would have hurt her. But now . . . I wonder.” Her eyes shifted to the doorway where her husband had disappeared. “I wonder if there were other people she treated poorly.”
“When did you and Bradley move in here?” Matt asked.
“After Jane went missing,” Nancy said. “Gloria didn’t handle it well. Bradley thought it would be best if she didn’t live alone.” She glanced at her Rolex. “I have to go. I promised to babysit our grandchildren today.”
“Thank you for your time,” Bree said. “And your honesty.”
Nancy nodded, but her eyes were uncertain. “Please don’t tell Gloria. It would hurt her to have Jane’s memory tarnished.”
The maid escorted them
out the front door.
Sharp followed Matt and Bree to her vehicle. “Nancy’s assumption that she killed herself, either intentionally or by accident, was the general consensus when Jane disappeared.”
“Did anyone else say she was mean?” Bree opened her vehicle door.
“No,” he said. “But I always felt people were holding back. Gloria didn’t fool herself about the probability Jane was dead, but she is the matriarch of a wealthy and powerful family. People might have feared backlash if they were honest about Jane’s personality.”
He held out his hand to Bree, then Matt.
Matt shook Sharp’s hand. “Maybe people will be more willing to talk now that we know Jane was murdered.”
“The fact that thirty years have passed might help too. Bradley has taken over the family businesses. He doesn’t have the ruthlessness that Gloria did back in the day. You might not run into as much fear of reprisal.” Sharp lifted both hands in a surrender gesture. “I’m going to back away now. Thank you for letting me come with you today, but I think it would be best if you looked at the investigation with fresh eyes. Let me know if you need anything else.” As he opened his vehicle door, Sharp glanced back at the house. “Clearly, the family has some secrets.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Bree stepped into her SUV and turned to Matt in the passenger seat. “What do you think of Bradley and Nancy Parson?”
Matt clicked his seat belt. “I think we should add them both to our list of suspects.”
“Agreed. They held back information from the original investigation.”
“Nancy was very nervous. Was she upset over Jane’s treatment of her child or lying about it?”
Bree shrugged. “We need to find out more about her and Bradley.”
“Another possibility: Jane slept with a married man and his wife found out.”
“Which would explain Jane’s murder but not Frank’s.” Bree started the engine. “Do we have an address for Frank Evans’s next of kin?”
“Yes.” Matt pulled out his phone and opened the email Todd had sent him that morning. “Frank Evans also has a brother, Curtis. Back in 1990, Frank’s mother was listed as next of kin, but Todd couldn’t locate her.”
Right Behind Her (Bree Taggert) Page 12