Cold-Blooded Liar, page 28
“She lived in our neighborhood when we were in high school. Met her at the country club when I went with my folks. I was captain of the football team and she liked muscles.” He shrugged. “She was shallow. But so was I, so we were good for about two months. Then we graduated. I went on to UCSD and she went to Juilliard. She’s on Broadway now. I see her from time to time, though, when she’s home visiting her family.” He smirked. “She still likes muscles.”
Kit almost laughed but swallowed it so that she didn’t encourage him. He was impossible. But maybe useful. “Do you think she’d have any insider info on Orion? Because I called them on my way from seeing Principal Larkin and asked to speak to the director. I couldn’t get past the front desk. The director is supposed to call me back tomorrow or when they ‘get a free moment.’ I’m going to have to go in person and flash my badge. It would be great if we could get some background information about the staff, because I’m betting they put me off today so that they can call in the lawyers before they call me back.”
“I’ll call her when we’re done. She’s in a show now, so I might not talk to her until tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Connor,” Kit said sincerely.
Connor looked pleased. “You’re welcome. Do you think the gray-haired man actually worked at the Orion School?”
Kit had spent most of her drive back to the station considering this very question. “I don’t know. It’s certainly possible.”
“I’ll ask my friend about scholarships,” Connor said. “Who got them, who gave them, and what the decision process was. If she can give us the name of a scholarship recipient, we can ask questions before going to the hallowed halls of Orion. I don’t think Orion would be too receptive to a fishing expedition, but if you already knew exactly what to ask, it’d go better.”
Kit had been thinking the same thing. “Excellent.” She noted it in her file. “What else?”
“I found Skyler Carville’s car,” Howard said. “It had been towed to a city impound lot. She’d parked on the street on a yellow curb.”
The yellow curbs were commercial loading zones. Parking was prohibited in the daytime but allowed at night.
“She only meant to meet for drinks,” she murmured. “I’m sure she figured she’d be back well before sunrise. Where’s her car now?”
“Had CSU pick it up,” Howard said. “They’re going over it. I doubt they’ll find anything, but we could be surprised. My visit to Jaelyn’s school yielded nothing. No one knew about any auditions nor had they seen a gray-haired man with glasses unless you want to count half the male teachers on the faculty.”
“That’s what Principal Larkin said,” Kit said.
“About a quarter of the male teachers at Cecilia’s school,” Connor added. “But no one caught anyone’s notice. Like none of the gray-haired men were creepy or hovering or anything. Nobody knew anything about any audition, secret or otherwise. Cecilia had played lacrosse the year before but was also in the drama club. She’d starred in Oklahoma in her freshman year.”
“Like Naomi played the lead in The Little Mermaid,” Kit said.
“Oh!” Howard looked excited. “Jaelyn played Golde in Fiddler in her freshman year.”
Kit shared his excitement. “Maybe that’s how he found victims. He saw them onstage. We’ll have to explore who attended their plays.”
Connor held up a hand. “Before you go that direction, I have more. I talked to Cecilia’s lacrosse coach, too. They’d been looking at her getting an athletic scholarship, but she’d gotten hurt over the summer. ACL. It was a bad injury.”
Kit winced. “That could’ve dashed any athletic scholarship dreams.”
Connor nodded. “Her coach said she wasn’t devastated, though. That her parents were the ones pushing the athletic scholarships. Cecilia wanted to go to acting school.”
Kit’s breath caught. “Did the coach mention Orion School?”
“No, but she did say that Cecilia was looking at her ACL as a gift.”
“Did her parents know this?” Howard asked.
“Her coach didn’t think so. She said that she’d offered to talk to Cecilia’s parents with her, but then Cecilia disappeared and her coach didn’t want to hurt the folks any more than they already were.”
“So she might have been lured by an acting scholarship the same way that Naomi was,” Kit said thoughtfully. “Did Jaelyn’s school mention anything about Orion School?”
Howard shook his head. “Maybe we should pay another visit to her family. Ask any of them if she mentioned an acting scholarship.”
“He might have used a different lure,” Connor said.
“Quite possible,” Kit agreed. “Howard, please contact the Wattses again and ask them. But be gentle with them. They fell apart when they identified Jaelyn’s body at the morgue. And then Tamsin Kavanaugh swooped in on them like they were prey, just so she could get a story.”
Howard winced. “They didn’t deserve that.”
Kit sighed. “No, they didn’t.” She turned to Connor. “Did you find Daryl Chesney? The metal detector kid?”
“Yes and no.” Connor took out his phone and brought up a photo. “Is this the kid you talked to?”
Kit studied the photo. “That’s him, but he’s a little younger and neater in this picture. His hair was longer when I saw him and his eyes were slyer. This kid in the picture looks happy, but on Sunday he looked more . . . opportunistic, I think. I figured he’d try selling his story to the paper. I’m surprised Kavanaugh hasn’t interviewed him already. What did he say?”
“I didn’t talk to him. I went to the address you gave me, but Daryl Chesney’s gone missing.”
Kit gaped at him. “You should have led with this,” she snapped.
Connor looked genuinely taken aback. “You were going down your list in order. You like things in order. I figured we’d get to it.”
Kit felt bad. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have bitten your head off. What do you mean, he’s missing? Since when and from where?”
“He didn’t come home Sunday night. His mother’s been worried sick and she filed a missing-person report yesterday evening. She thought she had to wait twenty-four hours.”
“So, Daryl Chesney leads us very conveniently to a body and then he disappears?” She didn’t like the sound of that. “Does he disappear often?”
“Not according to the mother. But she also said he’d gotten mixed up with some kids that hang on the corner. I talked to them, too, and they claim that he’d bragged about earning some cash but wouldn’t tell them from where. He didn’t want to have to share it with them.”
Kit rubbed her temples. “Shit.”
“He’s probably dead,” Howard murmured.
Connor nodded. “I mean, I hope we’re wrong, but I don’t think we are.”
“Let’s check his records to see who contacted him,” Howard said.
“Cheap pay-as-you-go cell,” Connor said. “I asked. His friends were cagey about their phones. Said none of them had nice phones, that they all used cheap ones from Walmart. Nobody could afford a plan. I think they were dealing and using burners. I got surveillance video from the grocery store across the street and it showed a mud-splattered black Mercedes slowing down to talk to the boys Sunday morning. Daryl was with them.”
Kit’s smile was so big that her cheeks hurt. “Bingo. Plates?”
Connor made a face. “Covered in mud. Couldn’t see the numbers.”
Her smile dimmed but didn’t disappear. “But we know that he’s still driving a Mercedes.”
Connor nodded. “And that he’s bold AF. It was a low-risk way to hide his plates. If he got stopped by a cop, he’d just promise to wash his plates and no one would be the wiser.”
“This is coming together,” she said with satisfaction.
“We still need to canvass the Little Italy bars to find out where Skyler Carville was taken from,” Howard said, sliding pieces of paper to her and Connor. “This is the list of bars in the vicinity of where her car was towed from. I split the places into three groups of five bars. We can all take a group and message back if we find one that remembers Skyler.”
“Good work,” Kit told him. “I’ll take the first five—” She was cut off by her cell phone’s ringtone and her heart stuttered before beginning to pound.
Sam Reeves was calling.
“McKittrick,” she answered, not putting it on speaker.
“Detective. I’ve got some information that you need to see.”
He’d said that he was never telling her anything again. She wondered what had changed. “What is it?” she asked, conscious of Howard and Connor watching her.
“I’ve been talking to Maureen Epstein.”
Anger pulsed up from Kit’s gut. “What?”
“She talked to me. She has video. Of Colton.” He sighed. “Getting killed.”
Kit was stunned into speechlessness for a few seconds. “Did you say that Maureen Epstein has video of Colton Driscoll’s murder?”
Both men stared at her, openmouthed.
“I did,” Sam confirmed. “She’s scared, Detective. And she has legal representation. Laura Letterman is with me.”
“I see.” Although she didn’t see at all. How the hell did Maureen Epstein get video of Driscoll’s murder? And why was Letterman with him? Maybe they were reconnecting, although Kit had given Sam more credit than to crawl back to the woman who’d cheated on him. But that didn’t matter. What did matter was that Maureen had talked to him. Maybe he did have a miracle voice. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She ended the call.
“Maureen Epstein has video of Driscoll’s murder?” Connor asked, still looking as stunned as she felt.
“I guess so. You guys get started on canvassing these bars for Skyler. I’ll check out my five bars when I’m done with the Epsteins.” She had hours before her appointment with Dr. Scott. “But I’m telling Navarro first. I’ll be in touch.”
Gathering her papers, she rushed from the room.
“Kit,” Howard called and she paused, looking over her shoulder. “Your sandwich.”
With a grateful smile she grabbed it and practically ran to Navarro’s office.
Mira Mesa, California
Tuesday, April 19, 5:05 p.m.
Eyes wide, Kit watched Driscoll being murdered, Navarro at her side at the Epsteins’ kitchen table. She hadn’t quite believed Sam until she’d watched Maureen’s video—four simultaneous views on the screen, one from each camera—with her own eyes.
When the screen went dark, Kit looked down the table where Maureen huddled, her eyes swollen and red. Her parents stood on either side of her like an honor guard.
Sam Reeves and his attorney sat beside her. Letterman had informed them that she was representing the girl.
For trespassing. As if that paltry offense even registered on the radar compared to what the girl had captured. The illegal recording was a bigger deal, but still not even close to what they’d gained.
She glanced at Navarro, who tilted his head as if to say Go for it.
“Let’s get the big issue dealt with. Maureen, you know what you did was wrong, right? Breaking and entering and illegal recording are serious.”
Maureen swallowed. “Yes,” she whispered.
Laura Letterman started to open her mouth, but Kit stayed her with a raised hand. “Please, Ms. Letterman. Let me finish before you jump in. So, Maureen, I have to write this up, but you have a good lawyer and I’ll make sure the prosecutor has all the facts. It will be all right.”
“What does that mean?” David asked stiffly, his hand gripping his daughter’s shoulder.
“It means,” Kit said as kindly as she could, “worst case, she’ll have a misdemeanor on her record, but she’s a juvenile and we can have it sealed. Best case, charges will be dropped because of her contribution to this case. I think we can work with Ms. Letterman to keep this from having any long-term detrimental effects on Maureen’s life.”
Kit saw Sam Reeves’s shoulders lower a few inches. He’d been worried about what she’d do. He noticed her attention and gave her a slight nod. Thank you, he mouthed.
Maureen’s parents also relaxed, David’s grip on Maureen’s shoulder loosening to a gentle squeeze.
“Thank God,” Gemma whispered.
“We’ll push for a total drop of charges,” Letterman said briskly.
“I figured you would, Ms. Letterman. That’ll be up to whichever prosecutor you draw. But I’ll put in a good word for Maureen.” Kit lifted her brows, keeping her tone mild as she addressed the still-pale teenager. “I would have put in an even better word if you’d told me the first three times I asked you, but I understand why you were scared.”
Maureen nodded timidly. “I’m sorry.”
“I know,” Kit said. “How did you even get into Driscoll’s house? Didn’t he have an alarm?”
“If he did, it didn’t go off. I waited for him to go to work, then I went in through his garage door. It was a flimsy lock. There’s a YouTube video on how to pick them.”
Of course there is. “Just . . . stay out of people’s houses, okay? And no more recording people without consent.”
“I won’t,” Maureen promised.
“Thank you. Now, to the video. It answers a lot of questions.” It also confirmed that the Top-Siders on Driscoll’s feet had been an attempt to connect him to Jaelyn Watts’s grave near the pond in the park. How Driscoll’s killer had known about the footprint was currently unknown. She’d put it on her follow-up list, because it was a critical point. Tamsin Kavanaugh hadn’t included that detail in her article.
Kit would also bet that the bag the masked man carried had held brand-new handcuffs and a can of sparkly pink spray paint. It was all planted.
So what had Driscoll actually done?
He’d known about at least three of the victims—Jaelyn’s grave in Longview Park, Cecilia’s lacrosse, and Naomi’s love of Avondale—but had he been involved in killing them?
And what was on those hard drives his killer had taken from his safe?
“But it also threatens my daughter,” David said. “If Driscoll’s partner finds out that she made the video, her life is in danger.”
“We can ask for a safe house,” Kit said, “but it might be better if you all went out of town for a little while. Maybe visit out-of-state family?”
Maureen looked at Laura Letterman. “What do you think I should do?”
“I think going away sounds like a good idea,” the lawyer said. “But I’ll make the arrangements and get you a rental car. I’ll pick you up and take you to the rental car. Pay for gas with cash. That way no one can track you.” She smiled at Maureen. “Just in case.”
“We’ll go,” David said. “But for how long? I can’t take off work forever and Maureen has school.”
“Get your wife and daughter settled wherever you decide to go,” Laura said. “Then you can come back. I can find a place for you to stay until it’s safe for Maureen to return. Tell her teachers that you have a family emergency and have to go away. Ask if Maureen can do her subjects virtually. If you run into issues, let me know. Plan on leaving tonight.”
Kit chanced a glance at Sam, expecting him to be focused on his ex-girlfriend. His lawyer. Whatever. But he was watching Kit, his expression kind of sad, and she spared a second to wonder why before turning back to Maureen.
“Do you have any copies of the video?” Kit asked.
The girl shook her head. “I don’t. That’s the original, on my laptop. Do you need to take it?”
“Afraid so. At least until we download the video onto our server. We’ll scrub it from your laptop afterward.”
That Maureen had obtained the evidence illegally wasn’t likely to be a problem. There was precedent for police to use evidence obtained by private citizens, even if illegally obtained. The citizen had to face the consequences for however they’d gotten the evidence, but Maureen would do that.
Kit would keep her promise to do everything possible to keep this from ruining Maureen’s life, because she understood the need to do something to avenge her family. Luckily Harlan had kept Kit from doing anything stupid back then.
Navarro touched Kit’s shoulder. “I’ll be going. I can take the laptop with me.”
“Thank you. I’ll ask CSU to go over that beam in Driscoll’s house again. Hopefully the rope he used to haul Driscoll up left some trace evidence. See you back at the office.”
Navarro pointedly looked at his watch. “Remember.”
She wanted to forget that she had an appointment with Dr. Scott tonight, but Navarro would follow through on his threat and make her go more often.
But if this killer suspected they were getting closer, would he kill another Skyler Carville to further incriminate Sam Reeves, trying to throw them off his scent? They needed to solve this case soon.
But it was just one hour out of her life, so she nodded. “Of course.”
Navarro shifted his pointed gaze to Reeves. “Dr. Reeves, thank you for this information. Please don’t do it again.”
“Of course,” Sam said mildly.
Kit didn’t need to be a shrink to know that meant Sam was totally doing it again.
Scowling, Navarro left with the laptop, and Kit returned her attention to Maureen. “So, seeing a murder is a big deal. I see bodies often and it still bothers me. Nightmares, y’know.”
Maureen nodded, her eyes haunted. “Yeah. Me too.”
“Maybe Dr. Reeves can recommend someone for you to talk to,” she suggested gently. Kit herself wasn’t going to therapy voluntarily, but this girl was so young, her life touched by the ripples.
Sam looked surprised. “Yes, of course. Ms. Letterman can tell me where you’ll be, and I’ll find you someone. Or I can recommend a therapist who does virtual appointments. Not the same thing as in-person therapy, but it can be useful nonetheless.”
