Page 45 of Beyond Her Reach (Bree Taggert #10)

Matt scanned Marina Maxwell’s street. At seven thirty, the sun was peering over the horizon. He double-checked the license plate number of Marina’s minivan.

They drove past the address, and Matt steered the vehicle around the block. He looked for the minivan. “I don’t see her vehicle.”

“No lights on either,” Bree said.

Marina’s house didn’t have a garage. The minivan had to be on the street. They parked at the curb and walked to the front door. Standing to the side, Matt listened. Silence blanketed the house. No murmur of a TV, voices, or running feet. In his limited experience with kids, they weren’t quiet.

“Where could she be?” Bree asked. “She works retail. They’re probably open on Saturday.”

Matt checked his notes for the boutique’s name. “The store doesn’t open until eleven.”

“No school on Saturday. Not much is open at this hour.” Leaning on the armrest, Bree peered out the window.

The early-morning light shone on her face, highlighting her bruises.

Her gaze looked clearer than the night before, but her eyes reflected pain.

Contemplating the front of Marina’s house, she opened a protein bar and took a bite. Matt had eaten his bar an hour before.

Bree washed her bite down with a swig of water. She chewed slowly, wincing as if the motion were painful. “Kayla gets up with the sun. Maybe her kids do too. They could have gone to breakfast. The diner is open. Or maybe one of the kids had an early activity. Some sports start stupid early.”

“True.” But Matt’s gut swirled with doubt.

Bree finished her bar in a minute, then downed two ibuprofen. “Let’s knock.”

As they stood at the door, the house felt empty and silent. No one answered Bree’s firm rap or the chime of the doorbell. Matt cupped his hands over his eyes and peered through the narrow window next to the door. He could see the tiny living area. “Nobody’s home.”

They stepped away and returned to their vehicle.

“I’m going to call her.” Bree pulled out her phone and punched in Marina’s number.

Matt heard a few rings, then the call flipped to voicemail.

Bree pocketed her phone without leaving a message.

“I’ll try a text.” She used her thumbs to send a message and showed him the screen. “Notifications silenced.”

Where is Marina? Where are her boys?

“I’m worried about the children,” Matt said.

“Me too.” Bree paused, her hand on the door handle, and gazed at him over the roof. “Unfortunately, we don’t have any evidence that Marina is involved, just a theory.”

“Let’s drive by Harrison’s farm and see if his vehicle or Marina’s is there,” Matt suggested.

Without additional evidence, they couldn’t get a search warrant.

Harrison lying to them wasn’t sufficient.

They needed to establish probable cause.

Considering Burke’s attack on Harrison and the threats of harassment, the judge would demand proof before he signed off on any warrant.

Regardless, Matt would feel better if he knew where both Harrison and Marina were at the moment.

“We can also check up on the other two women Troy dated in the last year and update them on the situation. They should know what happened to Barbara this morning.”

He drove to the Gibson farm. As the engine idled in front of the property, Matt scanned the parking areas. He spotted Harrison’s Corvette, the old pickup truck, and the Ford Taurus. The same vehicles that had been present during their initial interview with Harrison. “Marina’s minivan isn’t there.”

“Unless they hid it inside one of those outbuildings.” Bree used the dashboard computer to search vehicle registrations. “The pickup and Ford belong to his mother.”

“So where is Marina?” Matt tapped a finger on the wheel. “When we were here last, the garage was full of tools and heavy equipment. We couldn’t see inside the barn, though.”

“It looks big enough to hide a minivan,” Bree said.

“If it was dark, I’d sneak up on foot from the back of the property and get a look inside the barn.”

“And if you got caught, you could render any evidence inside meaningless, not to mention getting the county—and me—sued. Then it would be even harder to get a warrant if we find some evidence. We have to follow the letter of the law. If we get into a courtroom, we don’t want Kelly’s killer to get off on a technicality. ”

“I know,” Matt said. “Let’s warn the other potential victims. Where do they live?”

Bree tapped on the dashboard computer keyboard. “Claudia Ferguson is on Maple Street in Scarlet Falls. Candy Simpson lives in that new apartment complex near Walmart.”

“An apartment in a complex would be harder to break into. Walls are thin. More people around. An intruder might get caught on surveillance cameras or be seen by other residents in a general-use parking lot.”

“I agree. Let’s talk to Claudia first.”

Matt headed for Scarlet Falls.

Bree worked the computer while he drove. “The house Claudia lives in is owned by a man named Connor Jones. He bought the property seven years ago.”

Matt drove up to the house and parked at the curb.

He and Bree stepped out of the vehicle. Side by side on the sidewalk, they stared at an older brick Colonial home on a corner lot.

The small development of approximately twenty homes sat in the middle of rolling fields.

Houses were farther apart, with fewer trees and shrubs and better visibility than in Barbara’s neighborhood.

A white picket fence surrounded the rear yard.

Inside the house, several large dogs barked.

Matt said, “Breaking in here would be riskier. You’d be out in the open.”

“No one would sneak past those dogs either. They started barking as soon as we drove up.” Bree headed up the driveway. The two-car garage was turned to the side. One of the overhead doors was open. A Ford Escape and a Honda Accord were parked inside.

They turned left and continued to the front door. Bree knocked. Two German shepherds appeared in the front window. The dogs raced back and forth from the window to the door.

“The garage is open, so someone should be home,” Matt said.

“If they are, they definitely know we’re here.” Bree pressed the doorbell. At the sound of the chime, the barking intensified, punctuated by a few howls.

Footsteps sounded inside, and a man’s voice yelled, “Leave it!”

The dogs quieted. A door opened and closed.

Footsteps approached, then a man of about forty opened the door.

Bleary-eyed, he wore pajama bottoms and a gray T-shirt.

His hair stood up on one side, and stubble covered his jaw.

The man’s annoyed expression shifted to surprise when he took in Bree’s uniform, then settled on her face. “Is something wrong?”

Bree introduced herself and Matt. “We’d like to speak to Claudia.”

“She went to work hours ago.” The man rubbed his face.

“And you are?” Bree asked.

“Oh, sorry. I’m Connor Jones. I worked until three a.m. I was out pretty hard when you rang the bell.”

Matt pictured the open garage door and two vehicles parked inside. “What does Claudia drive?”

“A Ford Escape.”

“It’s in the garage,” Matt said. “The door is open.”

Connor’s brows furrowed. “Can’t be. What time is it?”

“Just after eight,” Bree said.

“She left at six fifteen.” Worry creased Connor’s face as he stepped out of the house barefoot.

Hugging himself, he led them back down the walkway.

“She’s a nurse at the hospital. Her shift started at seven.

” At the open garage door, he came to an abrupt stop.

Then he rushed forward, past the Accord to the driver’s side of the Escape. “What the hell?”

Right behind him, Matt took in the scene. Between the vehicles, just outside the driver’s door, a purse and cell phone lay on the concrete. The purse strap was broken, and the zipper had been pulled half-open. A key fob, lip balm, and small bottle of hand sanitizer lay scattered on the concrete.

“Where is she?” Connor asked.

Matt circled both vehicles. “Not in the garage.”

“Please step back.” Bree crouched and studied the floor. She pointed to the ground next to the left rear tire. “Look at this.”

Matt peered over her shoulder. The floor was clean for a garage, except for three dark-red spots on the white concrete. “Have you used red paint recently?”

Connor’s face went white. “No.”

Matt exchanged a look with Bree.

“I’ll call the hospital and make sure she isn’t there.” Bree turned away, her phone in hand.

She wouldn’t be. Matt knew it in his soul. His insides had gone cold.

“What was she wearing?” Matt asked.

“I don’t know. She wasn’t dressed when I saw her. But probably scrubs. She works in pediatrics, so most of hers have cartoon characters on them.”

Bree shoved her phone in her pocket. “She isn’t at work.”

“She never calls out.”

Connor reached for Claudia’s phone.

Matt stopped him. “Let me.” He snapped a picture, then tugged on gloves and picked up the device. He tapped the screen to wake it. “Do you know her passcode?”

“Yeah.” Connor gave it in a disbelieving monotone.

Matt entered the digits. The screen brightened. Several messages popped up, all labeled Vicky . “Who’s Vicky?” There was also one from Connor from late the previous night telling her that he’d be very late getting home.

“Her supervisor.” Connor shoved a hand over his short hair.

“Was everything normal this morning?” Bree asked Connor.

He said, “Yeah. I only saw her for about fifteen minutes. I got home between four thirty and five. She was just getting up for work. She cooked me eggs while I showered. I ate standing over the sink. Then I went to bed, and she got ready for work.”

“What do you do?” Bree asked.

“I’m an ER doctor. We had a doc call out last night, so I covered half his shift.” He looked away for a few seconds, processing something. “It was an ugly shift. We lost a patient. By the time I got home, I was so tired, I was asleep when my head hit the pillow.”

“Do you work at the same hospital?” Matt asked.

Connor nodded. “That’s where we met in August.”

“And she moved in with you already?” Bree asked.

His eyes went misty. “It sounds cliché, but it was love at first sight. Her lease was up, so why not? I knew the first time I saw her that I was going to marry her.” He wiped at his eye.

“Where is she? What happened?” His gaze went to her purse on the ground.

“’Cause it looks like someone took her.”

“I don’t want to panic you,” Bree said, her voice forced calm. “Did Claudia ever mention a man named Troy Ryder?”

Connor tilted his head. “She dated some guy named Troy before me.”

“Do you follow the news?” she asked.

Connor shivered. “I’ve been working a lot for the past few weeks. The ER has been swamped with sick people. I’ve been asleep when I haven’t been at work.”

“Did Claudia mention that a deputy stopped here last night?” Bree asked.

“No.” Connor shook his head. His lips flattened. “But she knew I’d had a rough night. She probably didn’t want to worry me. Why would a deputy need to talk to her?” He blinked, as if just remembering something. “Is this about those two women who were murdered?”

“Possibly.”

“Did this Troy guy come after Claudia?”

“Where were the dogs when Claudia left?” Matt asked.

Connor paused. “In the bedroom with me. She said she would feed them and take them out before she left so I could sleep.” He choked back a sob.

“Did you hear the dogs bark when she left?” Matt asked.

“They always bark when she leaves,” Connor said. “They bark whenever anything happens.”

“So you wouldn’t have noticed anything unusual if they were barking at that time, and I doubt anyone could have gotten into the house with the dogs inside.”

“Definitely not. They’re good dogs, and they would protect her if someone tried to get in. They love Claudia,” Connor said. “I have to call Claudia’s mom.” He turned toward the house. His bare feet were red from the cold.

“Matt?” Bree squatted on the concrete. “There are some white fibers stuck to the zipper of Claudia’s purse. If she resisted, and they struggled ...”

“Neither Kelly nor Janet had a chance to fight back, but it looks like Claudia put up a fight.” Matt glanced around.

From where they stood in the garage, they had a clear line of sight to the front of the house next door.

“Kelly likely knew the killer, and they sneaked up on Janet. They had privacy inside the house.” He pointed to the neighbor’s home.

“Maybe they were interrupted or they just changed their mind and took her instead of killing her. Given the state of her purse, it looks like Claudia at least had a chance to resist.”

“But why change their MO?” Bree asked.

“Because whatever the motivation for the crimes, a quick death wasn’t meeting their needs anymore.”

Bree brushed a hair out of her face.

Matt pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’ll call Rory and see if there are any similar fibers at either of the first two crime scenes.”

“I’ll have a deputy go to Candy Simpson’s apartment. She needs to be protected.”

He dialed Rory’s number. The tech answered immediately. Matt explained about the third potential crime scene and the white fibers Bree had found. “Can you see if there are any white fibers found at the first two scenes?”

Rory said, “I’ll pull the reports now and call you back. I’ll also get the status on the analysis from the lab.”

Matt paced while Bree continued to search the scene and call in reinforcements.

Rory called back in less than fifteen minutes.

“There were white fibers collected from the first crime scene. I contacted the lab to expedite the testing. We need to get the new sample to the lab immediately for a comparison.”

“I’ll have a deputy deliver it.”

“Perfect,” Rory said.

But even expedited tests would take time. Time that Claudia Ferguson might not have.