Page 31 of Beyond Her Reach (Bree Taggert #10)

“She freelances.” Again, Alice persisted with the use of present tense, as if her brain refused to acknowledge her friend’s death.

Acceptance would come with time, Bree knew. “Did she always wear headphones?”

Alice lifted both palms. “Sometimes, yeah. They help her concentrate.”

She wouldn’t have heard anyone sneak into the house.

“You went inside. Then what?” Bree prompted.

“I dropped my stuff.” She nodded toward the suitcase. “Then I went to the office to let Janet know I was home.”

“Did you go into the room?”

Alice looked horrified. “No. I stopped—froze—in the doorway. I knew she was gone, but I also couldn’t believe what I was seeing.” She rubbed a hand under her nose. “It’s a little bit of a blur now.”

Shock was a defense mechanism. The brain blocked what it couldn’t handle. Bree had experienced this firsthand. “How long have you and Janet lived together?”

“Three years, but we’ve known each other since college.

We were both tired of apartment living, but neither one of us could afford to rent a house on our own.

We were both single, and it felt”—she hiccuped—“safer than living alone.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes, and she pressed a fist to her mouth to stifle a sob. “I’m sorry.”

“Take your time,” Bree said.

Alice composed herself, straightening her posture and wiping her face with both hands. “I’m Ok .”

She wasn’t and wouldn’t be for a long time, but Bree didn’t point that out. “Do you travel often?”

“Not really.” Alice blew her nose. “Quarterly? Usually, I’m only gone three or four days, but this time, I thought I’d make a mini vacation out of it.

” She balled the tissue in her fist so tightly her knuckles went white.

“But if I’d have come right home, Janet wouldn’t have been alone. ” She broke down again.

There was no point in saying it wasn’t your fault because Alice would probably blame herself no matter what Bree said. She let her cry for a minute, then changed the subject. “What do you do?”

“I sell insurance, mostly homeowner’s and auto.”

“Does Janet have family?” Bree asked.

Alice nodded. “Her mom passed a couple of years ago, but her dad lives in Scarlet Falls.”

“Do you have his address?”

“His name is Barry Hargrave.” Alice recited an address from memory, then went silent for a few seconds before a fresh wave of grief filled her eyes. “You have to tell him, right?”

“Yes. It’s better that he finds out from me than on the news.”

Alice folded her shaking hands together. “Could I go with you? He’s eighty-five, and his health isn’t great. I know him pretty well, and he doesn’t have anyone else. Janet is—was—his only child, and they were close. They saw each other almost every day.”

Bree considered the offer. Death notifications were one of the worst duties of the job, and delivering the news of a child’s death to an elderly, sick man would be devastating. “Yes. That would be helpful.”

“Good.” Alice seemed steadier with a purpose. “I don’t think he should be alone.”

Neither one of you should.

“When was the last time you talked to Janet?” Bree asked.

“I texted with her yesterday, letting her know what time I’d be home today.”

“Did she respond?”

Alice nodded. “Yes. I got a thumbs-up tapback.” She paused. “But when I messaged her earlier today—no, yesterday—to tell her my plane was delayed, she didn’t respond.”

“What time was this?”

Alice reached for her purse and drew out her phone. She tapped on the screen. “I texted her at eight p.m. She hadn’t texted back when I boarded at nine thirty.”

So she was probably dead before eight.

“Was that odd?” Bree asked.

“No. I didn’t really think about it at the time.

I assumed she was working. Like I said before, she can really focus, and sometimes, she puts her phone on silent in the top drawer of her desk.

She’s really disciplined that way.” Alice’s face crumpled.

“Was. She was disciplined.” She looked away but her gaze focused inward.

“I just can’t believe she’s gone. Just like that. ” She snapped shaky fingers.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” For the hundredth time, Bree lamented the inadequacy of that statement. “Do you know Janet’s phone passcode?”

“Yes.” Alice recited a six-digit number.

Matt entered the room. “The dead bolt wasn’t in place. From the scratches on the metal, I’d guess the knob lock was picked. It’s a simple lock. It wouldn’t have been hard.”

“Did Janet make a habit out of leaving the dead bolt unlocked?” Bree asked.

Alice drew in a shaky breath. “She always latches it before she goes to bed.”

“What time was that usually?”

Alice shook her head. “She didn’t keep regular hours. When she got into a groove, she often worked very late.”

“Was she having any troubles lately?” Bree asked. “An argument or disagreement with anyone?”

Alice sniffed. “No.”

“Did she mention any unusual incidents?”

“No.”

“Would she have told you if she experienced something troubling?” Bree asked.

Alice paused, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I think so. She wasn’t secretive and she didn’t seem bothered or distracted by anything. She was ... normal.”

“Did she have a boyfriend?” Matt asked.

“No.” Alice got up, crossed the room, and tossed her tissue in a pedal-open trash can.

On her way back to the island, she took another from the box and dried her eyes gingerly, as if they hurt.

“She broke up with her last one a few months ago. She said she needed to take a break from dating, which was why she was really glad for the big project she scored.”

Matt’s focus sharpened. “Did she date him long?”

Alice shook her head. “Three or four months? He didn’t want kids and wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to get married.

He was also emotionally closed off and didn’t like to talk about those issues.

Janet said she was done with men who weren’t looking for the same level of commitment she was.

She didn’t dislike him, but their goals weren’t compatible. ”

Bree sensed a lead. “Was he angry about the breakup?”

Alice shrugged. “He called and drunk-ranted at her. She blocked his ass ASAP. He’s good-looking and rich.

Probably used to doing the dumping rather than being dumped.

But Janet wasn’t impressed by money. She wanted a deeper connection and said she’d rather be alone than settle for less than she deserved. ”

“Did he continue to try and contact her?”

“Not that I know of,” said Alice. “That call was the last she mentioned.”

“Do you remember his name?” Bree asked.

“I do because it was so ridiculous.” Alice scoffed. “Like a cartoon character.”

Bree knew what Alice was going to say before she opened her mouth.

“His name is Troy Ryder.”