Page 8 of Beyond Her Reach (Bree Taggert #10)

Harrison’s girlfriend did not answer the door of her little bungalow.

“We’ll try again tomorrow.” Frustrated, Bree drove to the station, where Marge greeted her with fresh coffee.

Bree issued instructions to her deputies and administrative staff, divvying up information-gathering tasks.

Warrants needed to be requested for phone and financial records.

Background checks would be run on the Gibsons and Harrison’s girlfriend, plus the neighbor, Jeff Burke.

Something about him didn’t sit right with Bree.

Now that they had an approximate time of death, they’d need to interview Burke again and get his alibi.

Todd was still at the Gibsons’ house, working with forensics to finish processing the crime scene.

Matt poked his head through her office doorway. “Do you want me to order dinner?”

Bree glanced at the time on her computer.

Almost time for the press con. “No.” She pulled a mirror out of her desk drawer.

She smoothed her hair. Good enough. She pushed her chair away from her desk.

“After the press con, I want to go home and eat with the kids. We’re waiting on a ton of information.

We might as well enjoy one last family evening before the case really gets rolling.

We can work from the home office after the kids go to bed. ”

She faced the press in the station lobby and began with a prepared statement. “The body of Kelly Gibson was found in her home early this morning.” She gave only the basic details about the victim.

A reporter asked, “Do you know the cause of death?”

“The medical examiner has not yet completed the autopsy,” Bree said. “But the victim’s throat was slashed.”

Another reporter shouted, “Is this another serial killer? Should the public be frightened?”

Bree chose her words carefully. She didn’t want to panic the residents of Randolph County, but she always exercised caution.

“We have no reason to believe the crime was anything but personal or that the public is in any immediate danger. That said, we always encourage residents to take care with their personal safety. Lock your doors. If you have an alarm system, use it.”

Bree didn’t have many details, and the press conference wrapped up in a speedy twenty minutes. She returned to her office to collect her messenger bag. Her desk phone beeped, and the red light from Marge’s line blinked. Bree picked up the handset.

“Jager is on her way back.” Marge had barely finished her warning when someone knocked on the office doorframe.

“Thank you,” Bree said before replacing the handset in its cradle. She turned to face the woman who’d just entered her office and perched in one of the chairs facing Bree’s desk.

Madeline Jager led the county board of supervisors.

She was a caustic, opportunistic, ruthless politician.

She also controlled the county budget, including the funding for Bree’s department.

With her ultra-thin frame and dyed hair, Matt had dubbed Jager a redheaded Cruella de Vil.

The nickname was seared into Bree’s brain, but she was trying to abolish it.

After many months of being adversaries, Bree and Jager had come to a sort of truce.

They weren’t exactly friends, but they weren’t enemies either.

Frenemies was probably a better description, but whatever Bree called it, a less antagonistic relationship with the board of supervisors made her job easier.

So why the unannounced visit to Bree’s office?

Jager was obsessed with appearances, and Bree prepared herself for criticism of her handling of the press conference.

“Good press con.” Jager’s words were a surprise. “I’m glad you took my advice about getting in front of the camera as often as possible.”

Bree sighed. “I didn’t do it to further my career. I called the press con to inform the public. It’s my job.”

Jager shrugged. “Tomato, tomahto.”

“It’s not the same thing at all.” Bree didn’t know why she was arguing. She’d given the public important information. Jager was pleased for an entirely different reason, but maybe she would stop hounding Bree to make more public appearances. Two birds, right?

So why did Jager’s praise feel ... icky?

Jager asked, “Do you have any other information on her murder?”

“Not much.”

“I’m glad to hear the murder was personally motivated.”

Bree raised her brows.

Jager rolled her eyes. “Because it means it was probably a one-off. And with a personal motivation, you’re more likely to catch the killer.”

“No guarantees.” But Bree hoped all that was true. She’d like nothing more than to solve Kelly’s case quickly.

Jager cocked her head. “If the killer knew the victim, then the link should be in their life somewhere, which sounds much easier than trying to find some rando whack job with zero connection to his victim.”

“You make a valid point.”

“Good. I have complete confidence that you’ll catch this killer ASAP.” Jager rocked to her feet with enthusiasm. “You’ll keep me updated?”

“Yes.” Bree didn’t specify how often.

Jager laughed. “I’ll call you and check in.”

Great.

After Jager left, Bree took two ibuprofen tablets, slung her messenger bag over her shoulder, and left her office. She collected Matt and relayed her conversation with Jager on the drive home.

“Not sure how to reclassify Jager,” Matt mused. “It was easier when she was a Cruella.”

“Gray areas are harder to pigeonhole, but not having the board of supervisors on my butt 24/7 has been nice.”

Matt stroked his beard. “I’m going to hold off judgment. She hasn’t earned your trust yet.”

“Agreed.” Bree turned into their driveway and parked.

She led the way into the kitchen. She and Matt toed off their boots and left them in the tray by the door.

Ladybug, Bree’s chubby pointer mix, body-slammed her in the knees to say hello.

Laughing, Bree shed her coat and crouched to give the aggressively affectionate dog a full-body rub.

Ladybug wagged her tail stump. Brody, Matt’s former K-9 partner, waited like a gentleman, and offered a polite paw.

Matt scratched the German shepherd behind the ear.

Bree’s black tomcat, Vader, watched with disdain from across the room.

“Hey,” Kayla said without looking up from her schoolwork. Hunched over a notepad, tongue between her teeth, she worked her pencil furiously. “I have one more problem, and then I’m done.”

Bree remembered the little girl running to hug her at the door in the past, but now she had to be content with the dogs’ greetings. The kids were growing up too fast. She straightened. “Where’s Luke?”

“Barn.” Kayla pointed in the general direction with her pencil.

“Feeding the horses.” Dana, Bree’s former homicide partner, opened the oven. “You’re just in time. Dinner will be ready in ten.”

“I’ll go help Luke.” Matt stepped back into his boots and exited the room.

When Bree had left Philadelphia, Dana had come with her to help with the kids. She’d been retiring anyway and had no plans on what to do with the rest of her life beyond taking some time to decompress from a long career in law enforcement.

Bree went upstairs to change out of her uniform and lock up her weapon. By the time she reentered the kitchen, Kayla had cleared away her books and was setting the table.

Bree grabbed napkins and helped her finish. “How was school?”

“Good. Multiplying fractions is fun.”

Laughing, Bree put a hand on her niece’s forehead. “Do you feel Ok ?”

Kayla giggled. “Would you take me to the library after dinner? I need a new book.”

The nine-year-old went through books like her seventeen-year-old brother went through food.

Bree checked her watch. “What time does the library close?”

Kayla didn’t miss a beat. “Eight.”

Bree nodded. “We should be able to make that.” She marveled at how much the child had matured over the past few months.

“Yay.” Kayla bounced to the counter to retrieve the salt and pepper shakers.

Bree transferred a basket of Italian bread, the butter dish, and a salad from the counter to the table.

Luke and Matt returned from the barn and washed their hands before the whole family sat down to eat.

Brody stretched out on the floor a few feet away.

Ladybug stayed close to the table, ever hopeful for a dropped morsel.

Vader maintained his position. He looked relaxed, but if any of the animals were to successfully steal food, it would be the cat.

For the first five minutes, everyone focused on filling their plates.

Bree should have started with salad, but instead buttered a slice of bread. “How was your day, Luke?”

Luke chewed a shovelful of lasagna. After swallowing, he reached for his milk glass. “I confirmed tours of Boston College and BU for January.”

Bree’s eyes grew hot. She blinked away the impending tears, covering up the unexpected burst of emotion by drinking some water. “Great. I blocked off that whole weekend on my calendar.”

For a change, Luke—not Kayla—did the chattering through the rest of the meal. He was also applying to several other East Coast schools, sticking with the larger institutions because he wasn’t sure about a major yet, and he wanted to have options.

She couldn’t believe he would be starting college in the fall. While she was happy and relieved to see his excitement, the thought of him moving away left her with an onslaught of conflicting emotions she was having trouble processing.