Page 26

TWENTY-SIX

Liam

Present

“So they really did write off his death as a—fucking hell, Liam! What are you doing?” Gabriel asks as I whip the car off the road and into a parking spot.

“Something Jesse said just hit me,” I say as I clamber halfway into the back seat.

“Did I need whiplash over it?”

“I’ll massage your neck later and make sure to kiss you all over and make up for it,” I assure him as I rip open my laptop bag and pull out the file Jesse gave me.

“Is this from Jesse? The person you said was boring and useless?”

“Shhh, my love. I didn’t think of it because Abby always called her friend Christa. It wasn’t until I was going over shit that I remembered her sister calling her Margaret Christine.” I wave the file in front of Gabriel, who takes it from me.

“Oh shit, she died. She was… what? Eighteen?”

“Looks like it. Died after a college party. Her body was found the following day in a ditch about a mile from her house. A neighbor found her. It was determined that she was intoxicated and slipped and fell into the ditch. Because of the water in it, she ended up drowning,” I say.

“That’s awful. Abby never said anything about it?”

“Abby and I hadn’t seen each other in two or so years by that point,” I say as I flip through it before hesitating.

“What?” Gabriel asks.

“Look at the results from the autopsy,” I say.

He examines it for a moment. “I’m sure I’m supposed to see something here… that I’m missing… and I want to look smart… but…”

“The sediment found. Someone thrashing in the water as they drowned would be working up sediment and other traces of things. Hell, even if she just fell into it, she’d have stirred it up when she hit.”

“I see that… but…”

“Twenty years ago, that area was newly developed. There was a case on that road about five years back; that’s why I know the area. There are no basements in those parts because bedrock sits right below the dirt’s surface. So sediment like this wouldn’t have been found in a recently constructed ditch in an area where bedrock and clay were prevalent. Clearly, she was drowned elsewhere and then moved near her house, and it was written off as an accidental death.”

Gabriel hums in thought. “Let me shoot this off to Jesse. I bet he could look into it further. If we could figure out who Steven was meeting at the bar that night, we could prove these cases mesh. Like… if he was meeting Cameron or something.”

“I was thinking about cameras for the bar, but what about the band?” I ask. “Are they popular enough that people are recording the band? There’s such a low chance of it, but you never know.”

“Let me look while you drive,” he says.

We reach the hospital without any concrete information and when we head up to the room Abby’s in, I find her asleep.

“Abby, you’re alive,” I say by way of greeting.

She opens her eyes and stares at me for a second, like she’s looking at a ghost. “L-Liam?” she whispers. “What happened to you?”

“What happened to me? I’m not the one who got thrown off a balcony because I still couldn’t listen to the advice of others,” I say.

“It’s been what? Decades since I’ve seen you?”

“Well, this isn’t helpful,” I mutter. “Do you remember what happened?”

“I was told I was pushed off a balcony? But I don’t even remember being near a balcony. Man, I didn’t think I’d see you again. Who is this?”

“My boyfriend, Gabriel.”

“He’s cute,” she mumbles before drifting off.

Well, this is irritating.

“We don’t know that her memory won’t come back,” Gabriel says, sounding hopeful. “Let’s see if someone can talk to us about it.”

We have to wait an irritatingly long time before a doctor comes to see us, only to tell us that it’s not uncommon for Abby to be confused. She’ll likely regain some memory, but it’s not a guarantee. Which means that he tells me absolutely nothing of use.

We go back to Abby’s room, and since she’s asleep, I join Gabriel in our hunt for videos taken of the band at the club where Steven met up with someone. They’re surprisingly popular, but watching recording after recording of them is getting me nowhere.

When Abby wakes up again, I aim a photograph of Cameron toward her. “Do you know this guy?”

“Liam? When’d you get here?” she asks, putting a hand to her head and wincing in pain.

“Like an hour ago. I’m going to figure out who did this to you if you’ll work with me. Do you know who this guy is?”

She stares at it for so long that I’m not sure if she’s really getting a good look at it or if she just fell asleep with her eyes open.

“Maybe I have a better picture or something of him on my work phone,” Gabriel says. “He looks a bit different with the facial hair.” He flashes her a different picture that she glances at.

“I don’t know who that is. I’m sorry, Liam.”

Fuck.

Gabriel gives her a warm smile. “Okay. Why don’t you get some rest? We’ll be back later to see how you’re doing, alright? And we’ll send a nurse in before we go to make sure you get your pain under control.”

Abby’s already back to sleep by the time the nurse comes. She assures us she’ll take good care of her and sends us on our way.

When I reach the car, I turn to Gabriel. “Cameron’s clearly connected to the case. Just because Abby doesn’t recognize him doesn’t mean he’s not.”

“But we have to find something to prove that.”

“I’m positive something has been recorded. I’m confident that’s why there were three marks where a tripod would fit. Whoever is involved in this is recording what’s happening. And we also have the tattoo theory we can look into. The issue is that no one currently has the tattoo. Jane Doe, Liz, and the man who died today don’t have any tattoos. And looking through Mitch’s belongings as well as Cameron’s, we’ve never once come across the symbol.”

Gabriel sighs. “No, we haven’t. And I don’t even know if it has anything to do with anything. But we do know it connects Abby and Christa. Christa’s death and this incident with Abby are twenty years apart. It’s going to be hard for others to understand the connection between the two, even if you feel like there is one. They’re going to require proof.”

“I’m aware,” I say. “But if there’s any connection between any of that, I’d like to look into it deeper. We know that Anthony was friends with the tattoo artist. So let’s start there.”

“You know his last name?”

“Nope. It’s a wonder I remember his first name. I tend to only remember things about you,” I inform him.

“Uh-huh. Well, let’s go back up and ask Abby about Anthony,” Gabriel says, since we haven’t left the parking lot. “You don’t really remember anyone else’s name from back then, right? You have the guy who tried drugging Abby. Was he part of their friend group?”

“I really don’t know. Abby left the foster home about two weeks later and I did a month later. I was shuffled to a group home because Lisa thought I would benefit from being around more people my age. I think she was secretly convinced there was something wrong with me. Maybe she was the smartest one of us all. After that, I didn’t see Abby until you tackled her to the ground.”

When we head back up to the room, Abby is awake but staring at a wall.

“Hey, Abby. We’re back and have a question for you,” Gabriel says.

She slowly looks over at us.

I ask her, “You remember your friend Anthony? The guy Christa was dating? Do you remember his last name?”

“You’re making a mistake,” she says.

“You don’t want to figure out who is killing people? Are you involved? Is that why it’s a mistake?”

“You’re making a mistake,” she repeats.

“How?” I ask.

“You’re making a mistake. I don’t want you to die too.”

“No one has to die if you tell us what’s going on,” Gabriel says. “We are here to protect those who could get hurt. We are here to keep more people from dying.”

“Abby, at one point in your life, I was the only one who could save you, and you trusted me. What’s different now?”

“Everything,” she responds. “Because destroying monsters makes more of them.”

Abby closes her eyes and probably thinks we’ll believe she’s asleep, but she can’t hide the tears slipping out.

“Let’s go,” I say, knowing that she’s not going to give me any answers.

I guide Gabriel away from her room with a hand on his back.

“‘Destroying monsters makes more of them,’” I muse, then pull out my phone and call Michaels.

“Oh joy. Just who I want to interrupt my dinner for,” he grumbles.

“I love talking to you too,” I say. “Were you around when Abby Brown’s father died? He was part of the crimes department, so you might not have interacted with him much. He was dealing with narcotics and stuff at the time of his death.”

“I didn’t know him well, but obviously I knew about his death. Homicide honestly wasn’t surprised. He had this confidence about him. He seemed to think that he’d intimidate people to drive drugs out of the city and it ended up getting him stabbed to death in some back alley.”

“Were you on his case? You were homicide at that point, right?”

“I was.”

“Did he have… anything he was hiding? Something that was swept under the rug? Possibly to keep the police from looking bad?” I ask.

Michaels grows quiet. “Why do you ask?”

“I mean, I was only with Abby for a short while, but she adamantly did not want to go back with her father. She repeatedly said he was a bad man, that he was a monster. She… kind of led me to believe that he hurt young women. She was… the best way to describe it is that she was relieved when he died. It was like this black cloud followed her everywhere she went, but the day he died, she acted like she could breathe for the first time.”

“There were… rumors that someone found a few videos of an unidentifiable man engaging in… sexual acts with women who seemed to be intoxicated or possibly drugged. I always assumed it was a rumor because it was never submitted for evidence and no women ever came forward. It also never directly showed him, so there was no proof that they were videos of him.”

“Did you ever find any recording equipment?”

“None. What’s bringing this up? Did Abby say something to you?”

“I’m just throwing shit at a wall to see what sticks,” I say. “I’ll let you know if I figure something else out.”

“Are you going to let me know or are you just going to run wildly at a theory and expect a cake at the end of it?”

“That one,” I decide before hanging up.

“Why do you refuse to end calls with him properly?” Gabriel asks.

“I don’t know, Gabriel. It’s like my body refuses to speak to him for one more second than it needs to. It’s as though it’ll hurt if I try.”

Gabriel chuckles. “So using Abby’s social media, I went through and found any friends of hers named Anthony. She has two.” He shows the first photo to me, but I shake my head, and he flips to the second.

“That’s him,” I say. “He looks different, for sure, but definitely him. Let’s see if we can get an address on him.”

“On it,” Gabriel says. It doesn’t take him too long before he flashes an address at me.

“That’s sexy.”

“That I typed his name into a database and received an address?” he asks.

“Very.”

“Well, I’m thrilled to have pleased you,” he says with a grin. “I even alerted the department that we’ll be heading over there to have a brief chat with the man you kissed.”

“Oh? Jealous?”

“Horribly.”

“Good,” I tease. “I like it when you’re jealous. Will you threaten him too? Tell him you’re better than him? It’s okay, I’ll tell him.”

Gabriel is laughing now. “No. You better tell him no such thing.”

“I’m going to anyway,” I declare.

“You better not, but knowing you, you probably will. We’re already not supposed to be working on Abby’s case. The only way we’re getting away with this is that I think no one believes you that the cases are connected. And I think it’s not because they think you’re wrong but because they want you to be wrong just once in your life.”

“It must be a sad life for them,” I realize. “I wonder if they cry themselves to sleep every night and if they do, would they let me watch?”

“You’re such a creep. You’re going to leave me home alone lying in bed just so you can tuck your enemies in and feast off their tears?”

“It’s okay. I’ll make them pay me for my service so I can buy you more things.”

“Speaking of buying things. How’s your diner doing?”

“Fuck that diner.”

“Yeah?”

“It was nominated for best diner something or other, which I thought was stupid. One of my employees sent it to me like they thought I’d care. I think they just wanted a raise.”

“It’s been nominated? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just did. Do you want the diner? How about if we win, you can have it. And if we lose, I shut the place down out of humiliation.”

“No and no.”

“You’re so bossy… I like it.”

Gabriel grins. “You’re so unreasonable… which I guess I must like since I like you.”

“How sweet.”

“I hope it wins.”

“What does?”

“Your diner!”

“Oh, I already forgot about that.”

“If it does, let’s go on a mini vacation to celebrate.”

“Of course. Where do you want to go? Italy? London? Tokyo?”

“What part of any of that is mini?” he asks.

“The amount of clothes you’re going to have on?”

“Ah… right. Of course. I’m definitely going strutting through the streets of London in my thong.”

“Sounds magical. You say the word and I’ll whisk you off to wherever you want to go,” I assure him. “I’ll sell my diner to buy you anything you want. If it wins the award, it’ll be worth more.”

“You almost missed that turn because you were too busy coming up with ways to blow money on me!”

“Says the man who blew money on a portrait of your cat dressed up like a Victorian queen.”

“It’s cute! You can’t tell me you don’t think it’s cute.”

“You’re cute,” I say.

“No! The painting is so cute. I love it so much. Looks like it’s the third house up here. When we get done, you’re going to beg for forgiveness after being so cruel.”

“What if I buy you another horrific cat portrait? Will that make up for it?” I ask as I turn into the driveway.

Just as we pull in, I see a woman in her early forties standing in the side doorway.

“Perfect timing,” Gabriel says as the woman sees us. She slips back inside but doesn’t get too far because Gabriel is out of the car so quickly. He’s already smiling, which should immediately woo her into believing we’re both decent people. He really does do such a good job dealing with people so I don’t have to. “Good evening. Sorry to bother you. We’re from the Timber Police Department. I’m Detective Hyde and this is Detective Paige. Is Anthony home? We’d like a quick word with him.”

“Oh… he’s not. Did something happen?” she asks, sounding nervous. “Is Anthony okay? Wait… sorry, that’s a silly question when you’re the one asking to see him.”

“Nothing concerning. We just had a few questions and were hoping to speak with him. You are?”

“Marissa,” she says.

“Relation to Anthony?”

“Oh! Sorry. I’m his girlfriend.”

“Do you know when he’ll be home?”

“He’s gone for the weekend. I’m only here to take care of his dog,” she says as she holds up a leash. “We just came in. I just finished checking on her and am heading on my way.”

“Do you mind if we come in for a moment?” Gabriel asks.

Marissa hesitates. “Well… Um… I mean, I would but it’s not my house.”

“Oh, he won’t mind,” I say as I let myself in. As long as Michaels isn’t looking, it’s fully legal in my eyes.

She shrugs. “I guess come on in.”

We follow her inside as the dog, an older lab whose muzzle is turning white, comes over to greet us. Its eyes are cloudy, but it wags its tail when it sees us.

“Don’t mind her, she’s just nosy,” she says. “You had some questions?”

“We do. How long have you two been dating?”

“Oh, not very long. A month? But we’ve known each other for a bit, about four months.”

“Were you with Anthony last night?” Gabriel asks.

“I wasn’t, no, sorry. He was out of town. Left yesterday morning.”

“Could I have some water?” I ask.

“Of course,” Marissa says as she heads into the kitchen. Honestly, I just want to see different parts of the house. If he was hiding something, obviously, it wouldn’t be right out in the open, but some people are so confident with what they do that they often leave it out in inconspicuous ways. She reaches for the cupboard before going for the dishwasher instead and pulling out two clean glasses. “There are cookies. Would you like some?”

“No thanks,” I answer as I meander over to look at some knickknacks in the corner, all music-related stuff. He’s got records arranged neatly, each clearly having been well cared for and in protective sleeves. I bend over to get a closer look and notice quite a few rare ones in the mix.

“Here you are,” she says as she hands glasses with ice water to both of us.

“Thank you,” I respond. “Living room this way?” I just wander off without rhyme or reason as I head off into a hallway and start peeking into every room I walk by.

“No, this way.”

“Oh, my bad,” I say as I turn around, and because I do, she also turns around to show us where the living room is. I use my foot to push open the door of the room I’m closest to. This one is a bedroom, but nothing looks out of the ordinary. There are two guitars hanging on the wall and the bedsheets are half off the bed. The dog hurries in and starts pawing at the blankets that hang off, making herself a pile to sleep on. As she does so, I see a phone slide off the sheets and onto the floor. I’m more than a little tempted to slip in and grab it, but Marissa looks back to see if I’m following before I can. She likely doesn’t have much on her phone, but who knows… she could be like Cameron’s wife and be aware of what’s happening.

When we reach the living room, Gabriel immediately sits, so Marissa takes a seat across from him.

“So where did you say Anthony was?”

“A convention. Music something. He works in a music store, so he and his buddy go to some convention thing together. I’m sure you can tell by all of the music stuff going on that he’s quite fond of different types. Can’t play anything but a guitar to save his life, though. Ha. Don’t tell him I said that. Dear god. I have to just grin and bear it whenever he tries to serenade me with the keyboard.”

I notice the calluses on her fingers as she waves toward the keyboard in the corner. “You play? You have calluses.”

“I do! Guitar. It’s how we met. He was giving me lessons at the shop he works at. He’s good at guitar. Kind of good. He’s a great teacher but only okay at the instrument. I’m getting off topic. Sorry.”

“Mind if I use your bathroom?” I ask.

“Sure. Right through that door,” she says as she points, and I’m disappointed that it’s right off the living room so I can’t wander some more.

I head inside, leaving Gabriel to the questions. I just want something to stand out. Obviously, I’m not expecting to waltz into a cinema packed full of videos of him and the others killing people, but at least… something .

I quietly open the cupboards and look at the medicine cabinet for anything of concern. Of course it’s nothing but over-the-counter drugs. I look inside the vanity, but besides toilet paper and other normal bathroom items, I’m greeted with nothing of interest.

I flush the toilet and wash my hands just so it looks like I’m doing something before drying my hands off. Just as I’m reaching for the door, my hand brushes the towel hanging by the door. I hesitate as I grab it and feel how damp it is.

Then I quietly pull back the shower curtain and look at the water that hasn’t yet dried in the bottom of the tub. I go back over to the vanity and dig around for a hairdryer, which I find tucked way in the back. I press my hand against the mouth of it to see if it feels hot, but it doesn’t seem like it’s been used in quite a while.

Is she covering for him? Is he in the house somewhere? Did he see us and hide? Is that his phone in the room? And does she have hers somewhere on her? Did he have time to message her to cover for him?

I step out of the bathroom and try to determine whether she has a phone on her, but I don’t see one. “Do you have your phone?” I ask.

Marissa looks over at me. “Uh… not on me. Do I need it?”

“I was just wondering if you could call Anthony while we’re here, see if he’d be interested in talking to us.”

“Uh… yeah, sure. My phone’s in my bag over here,” she says, heading back toward the kitchen as I see a record sitting on the rough surface of a stone dish. I pick it up and flip it over, noticing a crack on the edge of it. I flip it again and then gently set it back down.

Huh.

How interesting.

“What?” Gabriel asks.

“Marissa, we found his phone number. No need for you to call him,” I say, hand on my gun as I slowly move toward the kitchen. “We got everything here that we need.”

Gabriel is up in a second, his hand also near his gun as he follows me, but she doesn’t make a peep. Did she notice me picking up on things? What spooked her? Must have been me asking her to call him. I mean… she could have lied, but maybe she knew I would have insisted on checking the number if she had.

Even me acting like we’re prepared to leave doesn’t make her emerge, telling me she’s already gone or at least far enough she can’t hear me.

I hurry into the kitchen, but she’s not there, leading me to look down the hallway. I see the lab wagging her tail at a closed door that I rush toward. Not seeing me, the lab darts in front of me, and I immediately trip over her in an attempt to not plow into her.

The dog looks confused about why I’m suddenly right next to her but happy nonetheless and proceeds to want attention when I want through the door. I push it open and see that the window is open.

“I take it that wasn’t really his girlfriend,” Gabriel says.

“I’m thinking not.”

“I’m going around back.”

“Be careful,” I say as I head to the window and look out. The window screen is gone, flung out into the yard and then bent, telling me she landed on it and isn’t waiting somewhere in the room for us to slip out. I hurry toward the front door, hoping to cut her off if she went that way. I call for backup, unsure if Gabriel already did so.

I don’t see any movement, but there are so many fences and bushes that make it even harder to see someone in the dark. Quickly, I slip out onto the street, unsure which way she’d have gone. If she’d originally come through the door toward the front of the house, it tells me her car was parked somewhere in this direction.

Gabriel catches up to me. “I don’t think she could have gone out back. There’s a tall fence, and if she’s the one who was shooting at you in the barn, I know I shot her.”

“Shit. She didn’t have that much of a head start on us,” I say.

“No, she didn’t, so why don’t you go right, and I’ll go… is that smoke?”

I look back at the house as I see smoke drifting out through the window she’d gone through.

“You don’t think Anthony’s still in the house, do you?”

“She might have been preparing to burn the house when we arrived. I didn’t smell anything, though, did you?”

“No, but we weren’t in the back of the house for very long. We have to get the dog out and make sure Anthony’s not in there,” he says as he rushes back to it.

“I’m coming,” I call, refusing to let him go in alone in case she actually is still inside. I quickly follow him back in through the door as I hear him calling for the fire department and any police in the area. I hurry back to the room smoke was coming from and find that the flames are nothing too concerning, just some paper burning inside the closet that was next to the window. Gabriel’s faster than I am and dumps enough water on it that it’s out in seconds.

As I step out of the room, I reach the only door that I hadn’t yet snooped inside and find it locked. The door’s pretty flimsy and I manage to bust it open with a few kicks.

I hit on the light, but I don’t need to, I can smell the death before I even see Anthony strapped to a chair. There’s a large projector screen on, but nothing playing. The blue glow of it gives Anthony’s dead eyes a unique hue.

Blood has pooled in his lap from where he’d been stabbed, but my attention isn’t on the dead man, it’s on the safe sitting open.

“Look what we have here,” I say as I reach the projector behind him. It’s hooked up to a videotape player, and when I press play, the blue screen shifts. The quality is horrible, but I can tell there’s someone in a large body of water. They’re getting close to the camera, and when they come into view, I immediately recognize the person as Christa.

“Well… guess we know who killed Steven, Mitch, Cameron, Jessica, and now Anthony,” I comment.

“I take it that’s Christa,” Gabriel says as I watch her reaching out to the person recording. The projector isn’t giving off any sound, but I can only imagine that she’s begging for help.

“Sure is.”

“Do you think Marissa is her sister?”

“Looks like it. I never got a good look at Christa’s sister back then. I’m not even sure I’d recognize her in a lineup, but who else would it be?”

“You said Christa mentioned her sister was a biology student… do you think she realized the same thing you did? That the sediment that was found during the autopsy wouldn’t have come from the ditch near their house?”

“It’s possible. We need a name and address on her,” I say as I notice a cloth mask on the ground. She probably wore it when she entered the house, but her brawl with Anthony must have caused it to be torn off. It looks like it was ripped, so it’s no wonder she ended up outside the house without it on. The two of us head out of the room and Gabriel nearly trips over the sleeping dog that is oblivious to what’s happening.

“Hey, sweetie, it’s going to get really chaotic for a second, but someone will come get you shortly, okay?” Gabriel says as he guides her over to a bed in the living room while I open the door for the police to enter.

“Room in the back, last door on the right,” I direct them before I rush out to the car.

Gabriel isn’t far behind me as I quickly set to work identifying that Marissa’s real name is Sadie Williamson. It doesn’t take me much to find her address, so I get backup ready to assist us as we head for her house. When she pretended to be Anthony’s girlfriend, she clearly had no idea who I was. A fleeting moment twenty some years ago is not enough for her to recognize me now. I doubt she ever knew my name. It’s not like Abby or Christa and I were that close. If Sadie thinks she lost us, she’s likely gone back to her house believing she’d have at least some time before we’d have an ID on her.

“So a group of people were involved in her sister’s death, and now she’s picking them off one by one?” Gabriel asks. “Why now?”

“I don’t know. I assume she didn’t know until now. I’m not sure what gave it away, but something did.”

My phone starts ringing and I see that it’s Matthew calling. I accept the call, assuming he has something of use to say.

“I just heard that you identified the killer as a woman named Sadie Williamson?” Matthew asks.

“Yeah. You have something useful?” I ask.

“Uhh… that’s Jesse’s ex-girlfriend. I think maybe you should call him?”

“So that’s how she got the information about Christa’s autopsy,” I realize.

“Wouldn’t she have had access to it?” Gabriel asks. “She should have reached out and gotten it as a close family member.”

“My bet is that when she was young, she probably didn’t catch the issue. So maybe she was just curious to see if Jesse’s access would have shown more and pulled it up one day while he stepped away.”

“Probably. I can look to see if she ever requested the autopsy herself,” Matthew says.

“Thanks for actually being of use for once.”

“I’m always fucking useful!”

I hang up on him before he gets too big of a head and quickly call Jesse.

“Joyous day, Liam’s calling me,” Jesse grumbles.

“Have you heard what’s going on?”

“You’re getting fired?”

“Not yet. This department would crumble without me. We found the woman who is suspected of killing Steven, Mitch, Cameron and his wife Jessica, and now a new man named Anthony. Her name is Sadie Williamson.”

“No… you’re fucking with me. Sadie? You’re telling me fucking Sadie is off… killing people? She and I dated for like six months. She’s literally the nicest person I’ve ever met. Are you sure you’re not wrong? Or maybe it’s a different Sadie?”

“She ever get a chance to look at your database? Or did you pull the file on her sister for her?” I ask.

“I didn’t know she had a sister. Who’s her sister? One of the women I pulled for you this morning?”

“Margaret Williamson, but her middle name was Christine and she went by Christa.”

Jesse is quiet for a moment. “Oh fuck. She realized the same thing you did, Liam. Oh fuck…”

“We’re headed to her house right now,” I say.

“Okay… I’m coming… wait… she has another place. It was her parents’ lake house off Eagle Reserve. She told me she got it when they passed.”

“Which place do you think she’d have gone?” I ask.

“I mean, if she thinks there’s any possibility you’d have figured out who she is, she’d go to the lake house. I think it’s still in her grandma’s name. She’s not a fucking killer. She’s… I just… are you sure it’s her?”

“Matthew seemed to recognize her, probably saw her picture when looking up the name. Had he met her before? Or just knew her name?”

“No… he stopped by one time when she was over… fuck. Fuck… let me send you the info. I don’t know the actual address, but I can get you in the right direction.”