12

Nolan didn’t want to seem excited about a strong suspect, so he schooled his emotions as they headed for her car. Excited really wasn’t the right word. How could a person be excited over finding a potential murder suspect? Eager to question the guy might be more appropriate.

Mina got behind the wheel, and he slid into the passenger seat. He should wait to speak until she had the vehicle on the road, but he clicked on his seatbelt and turned to look at her. “I know we have to meet with the Veritas team soon and you want to talk to Palmer, but then we need to talk to Wade Collins.”

“I agree.” She shoved the key into the ignition, but her phone rang. She grabbed it. “Putting you on speaker, Abe. Nolan is with me.”

“Harmony finally dropped off the rental agreement,” Abe said. “And information on the building owner.”

“And?” Nolan sat breathless in hopes of a strong lead.

“I reviewed the agreement,” Abe said, sounding a bit defensive. “The name on it is Smythe Fitzwilliam.”

“Smythe Fitzwilliam.” Nolan echoed. “Seems like a bogus name to me.”

“Me too,” Abe said, “but I searched for it anyway. Found no one. Called the phone number listed on the application. It’s disconnected.”

“At least there was once a phone connected to that number,” Mina said. “But not surprising that it was disconnected now that Smythe’s role in the murder seems to be over.”

“We can’t let it go, though,” Abe said. “I’ll run down call logs for the number. I’m guessing we’ll find out it was a prepaid phone, but still, if we can discover where Smythe bought it, security footage could give us an actual photo of the man, and we can search databases.”

“That would be most helpful.” Mina shifted in her seat. “And phone numbers he called or who called him could be helpful as well.”

“Agreed,” Abe said. “The contract also has an address listed in Seaside Harbor. Turns out it’s the address for the local library. I’ll visit them to see if they’ve heard of this guy, but I feel fairly certain that will be a negative.”

“You should still show them Smythe’s sketch,” Mina said. “Just in case it’s an employee or a regular visitor masquerading under the name Smythe Fitzwilliam.”

“Already in my plans.” Abe’s tone was definitely surly now. “Will let you know what I locate.”

The call went dead, and Mina turned her full focus on getting them on the road. Nolan wanted to ask about Abe’s behavior and why Mina didn’t say anything about it, but it was none of his business to interfere with how she ran her department.

They raced through the foggy, rainy streets of Lost Lake, out into the country, and then into the seaside section of Seaside Harbor where Palmer lived.

Cody Palmer’s extravagant house overlooked the hilly terrain, where the sun was just breaking through early morning fog and clouds. If they weren’t there to interview a potential murder suspect, Nolan would stop to admire God’s creation as it unfolded over the landscape.

One of the unexpected joys he’d found in living at an inn perched on a cliff overlooking the ocean was seeing God’s beauty day in and day out. Nothing in his life had prepared him for the calm evenings he now experienced, erasing some of the horror and strife from the day and giving him a new perspective to begin his day.

But he was at this home for an ugly reason today. Murder.

He climbed the steps with Mina and looked over the two-story building. It boasted double-height windows in the front and a wide expanse of manicured lawn.

He let out a low whistle. “Guy’s got money. Fitting for someone who could afford to own a mansion. Especially not as his main residence.”

“Yeah, it looks like he’s made of money and investing in property is generally a sound decision.” Mina stabbed the doorbell.

The chime rang in the house, and Nolan half expected Smythe Fitzwilliam to answer as the butler. Instead, a tall man with a thick head of dark hair, a wide jaw, and a well-built body pulled the door open and stared at them. “Help you?”

Mina displayed her badge and introduced them. “Did you speak to Harmony Vance last night?”

He arched an eyebrow. “No, but I had a text from her telling me to call her. It was after business hours, and she usually has trivial things she needs help with, so I haven’t given her a call.”

“This isn’t trivial,” Nolan said, not liking the off-hand way he was responding. “It’s about the contract signed for your Tidewater Mansion last night.”

He raised his chin. “I don’t handle those little details and don’t know anything about it. You’ll have to talk to Harmony. She manages the reservations.” He started to close the door.

Mina stuck her foot in it to stop him. “It’s not quite that simple, Mr. Palmer. The Lost Lake mayor was murdered, and his body was found in your mansion last night.”

Palmer took a step back but otherwise seemed unfazed by the shocking news. “I guess that’s why she was calling me then.”

“Seems so,” Mina said. “I’ve reviewed the contract. It’s in the name of Smythe Fitzwilliam. Does that name ring a bell with you?”

Palmer shook his head.

Mina displayed the sketch of Smythe. “Have you ever seen this man before?”

Looking bored now, Palmer shook his head again. Nolan itched to tell him an honorable man had been murdered and demand Palmer pay better attention. That wouldn’t end well if they wanted his cooperation, so he shoved his hands into his pockets instead.

“All of the information in the contract is bogus,” Mina stated. “What do you do to confirm contracts, if anything?”

“After the credit card for a reservation deposit goes through, Harmony calls the provided contact number to confirm they’re the signed renters. She then talks with the renter about their specific needs.”

“But you don’t do any kind of background check to be sure they’re legitimate?” Nolan asked, trying not to sound testy.

“As long as their credit card goes through and the balance is paid before the event begins, we’re good.”

Mina let out a long breath, her frustration obvious. “We’ll be needing the credit card information for this reservation.”

“Like I said, Harmony handles all of that. You’ll have to get it from her.”

Mina took a hard stance in front of the man and handed him her business card. “You don’t seem to understand. You’ll get that credit card information for me and text it to my phone number within an hour, or I’ll arrest you for obstruction of justice.”

Nolan knew she couldn’t do that as Palmer had given her a way to get the information. For that matter, he could demand a warrant for it, but if this worked, Nolan was all for it.

He sniffed the air as if it was foul, but nodded. “Have your little tantrum, but I assure you it isn’t necessary. I’ll be sure you have the information within the hour.”

“And you need to stop by my office before noon for fingerprinting and a DNA swab so we can eliminate you from any prints and DNA we recover at your property.”

He looked down on her with hard eyes. “Fine. Anything else?”

“Not at the moment.” She glared up at him. “But a better attitude might be nice.”

He rolled his eyes and pushed the door closed.

“Nice man,” Nolan said on the way to the car. “I loved your comment about a better attitude.”

“No wonder he hired Harmony.” Mina climbed behind the wheel. “They’re two of a kind.”

“We still need to figure out other things for the night.” He closed his door. “Like where the trophies were bought and engraved and who provided the food. Was there a caterer?”

“Already have Abe looking into that among other things. He’ll let me know if he finds anything helpful.” She flipped on a blinker and glanced at him. “I’ve been so focused on the murder I haven’t asked if you have any updates on Becca from your team.”

They could use some positive news right about now, and he wished he had some to share. “They’re working every angle, but nothing yet.”

Mina sighed. “I keep praying that she’s simply taking the week off or a long weekend, and she’ll show up today.”

“Me too,” Nolan said, his prayers echoing her thoughts.

Mina fell silent, and Nolan used the rest of the drive to the airstrip at the inn to review and reply to a long list of emails.

He looked up as the inn and surrounding property came into view. He rarely approached while not driving and was free to take it all in. Majestic. His gaze traveled to the airstrip. An airstrip he owned. Him. A former civil servant. How crazy was that?

“Looks like some of the team has arrived.” Mina lifted her hand from the steering wheel to gesture at the runway.

Four vans holding the Veritas logo on the side door had parked near the edge.

She shook her head. “I’d love to have the resources they have at their disposal.”

“I hear you.”

“But you have this place.” She clenched the wheel.

“I never imagined I’d be able to afford any property, let alone an inn on the coast with panoramic views.”

“So how did you afford it?”

Her suspicion was well deserved as she’d known he had little money. “One of my great aunts died and left it to me. Which is really odd. You know I wasn’t close to my family, and that hasn’t changed. I didn’t really even know my aunt. I saw her a few times when I was a kid but that was it.”

“You must’ve made quite an impression.”

The grim look on her face said something, but he didn’t know what. Maybe she thought he’d made the same impression on her and then didn’t see her again. But that was a whole other thing. His family skated on the edge of breaking the law to earn a living. Maybe crossed the line, too, but he didn’t want to know those details. As soon as he was old enough to realize what was going on, he couldn’t abide being part of it.

He’d gotten a job in high school and worked every free minute to save money for college. He’d also made sure his grades were good enough for a scholarship so he could walk away from them.

Didn’t matter. Not anymore. His so-called adoptive family was here with him. Had been with him since college. Honest. Caring. Responsible men and women who held God and His commandments in high esteem. They landed firmly on the side of legal enterprises and would never even contemplate profiting from illegal ventures.

Mina pulled into the parking lot as rotors thumped from offshore, the wind just starting to buffet the vehicle.

Her phone rang, and she answered it on speaker.

“Go ahead, El,” she spoke loudly to be heard over the chopper.

“Our daylight search of Becca’s property paid off,” El said. “We found a female shoe under the bushes at the front door. The bottom is covered in blood. What do you want me to do with it?”

Mina cast a bright look at Nolan. “Leave it where you found it for the Veritas team to photograph and take into evidence. Make sure whoever is stationed at the front door is aware of the shoe’s location and no one disturbs it.”

“Roger that,” El said. “Now that our search is complete, I’ll be meeting Gabe to do the neighborhood door-to-door canvass.”

“Let me know if you learn anything.” Mina ended the call.

Nolan raised his voice over the approaching helicopter noise. “The shoe suggests she was at the scene when her father died and someone took her.” He let that thought settle in. “I suppose she could’ve been afraid the shooter was coming for her, too, fled, and lost her shoe as she took off. Either way, she was there.”

“Yeah.” Mina shifted into park. “But your earlier suggestion that she killed her father and ran could be right too. I still don’t buy it, but you could be right.”

“Neither do I, but we can’t rule it out.” He opened his door.

The chopper approached the shoreline, the increasing thwack-thwack-thwack of the rotors and whine from the chopper’s engine getting louder. He slid out to watch the landing. It hovered above, sending sand swirling in the air.

He lowered his head and narrowed his eyes.

Nice one. He should’ve stayed in the car to watch the chopper land, but since he’d gotten out, he waited in place. At the slowing whirr of rotors, he lifted his head again to see the large chopper on the ground and the side door slide open. Mina exited the car, and they rushed forward.

He expected Sierra as his contact to get out first, but the first person jumping down was a clean-shaven man with dark hair. He wore black tactical pants and a team shirt. Nolan put him in his late thirties. He carried himself with assurance as he made his way over to Nolan and Mina.

He stuck out his hand. “Blake Jenkins. I coordinate all the multi-disciplined law enforcement investigations for the Veritas Center. Since this project has grown from one crime scene to three, all perhaps connected, coordination will be priority.”

“Then welcome.” Nolan gripped his hand and accepted the firm shake. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“My fault.” A woman with shoulder-length blond hair and bangs called out as she approached them. She also offered her hand. “Sierra Rice. I head up the trace evidence group. We spoke on the phone.”

Nolan and Mina introduced themselves as other team members piled out of both the vans and the helicopter, all converging on their location and looking expectantly at Sierra and Blake.

“Let me start by introducing you to everyone.” Sierra placed a hand on Blake’s arm. “I’m sure Blake has told you what he does for us, but you should know about his past as well. Sheriff Park, you’ll be particularly interested to know he was a former sheriff as well.”

“Please call me Mina.” She shifted her attention to Blake. “And Blake, we’ll have to find some time to compare notes and trade horror stories.”

He gave a sharp nod.

Sierra moved her hand to a tall, well-built man with red hair who had an arm around the woman next to him. With her dark brown ponytail, she looked far too young to be on this top-notch team.

“This is Grady Houston.” Sierra waved a hand toward the redhead.

“You have something go boom, I’m your guy.” Grady grinned, and the woman next to him rolled her eyes.

Sierra shook her head. “He’s our ballistics, firearms, and explosives expert. The ever patient woman next to him is his wife, Ainslie, one of our forensic photographers. And next to her is our other photographer, Chelsea Vale.”

They didn’t offer their hands, so Nolan nodded and smiled.

Sierra stepped down the line. “Last, but not least are my assistants, Chad Powell and Jeremiah Paulson.”

Nolan shook hands with Chad, who had thinning dark hair and a slight build, then with Jeremiah, who was tall and wiry. His red hair outshone Grady’s.

A sudden commotion behind them took Nolan’s attention. An average-height, but well-built, guy with jet-black hair bounded from the pilot’s door and jogged across the tarmac. He had a twinkle in his almond-shaped eyes. “I’m here. Let the party begin.”

Sierra groaned. “Meet Dylan Wix, our most recent partner addition. He’s an IT expert, and as you can see, also a pilot. He’ll be collecting all of the electronics.”

“I mean, not just any pilot.” He blew his fingers and brushed them across his chest. “One of the top pilots in the area.”

“Based on what rating?” Grady’s tone was liberally laced with sarcasm. “The Dylan Wix rating scale?”

“I could say according to a recent internet poll, but I assume you’d think I fixed the voting.” Dylan belted out a laugh.

“As you can see,” Sierra said. “He’s the life of our party.”

“Yeah,” Nolan said. “We have one of those on our team as well.”

“Doesn’t most every team?” Mina asked. “I know I’ve met a lot of life-of-the-party people on the teams I served on over the years.”

“An insecure guy might infer that you mean this in a derogatory way,” Dylan said. “But I always say we only have one life to live. Why live a dull one?”

“Be that as it may,” Sierra said. “Today is all about the minutia of a crime scene. Actually, three crime scenes.”

“To that end,” Blake, a guy who seemed all business all the time, said, “Sierra and I’ll visit each scene with you while our team gets the vans in place and prepares to work.”

“I’ll take charge of one scene,” Sierra said. “Then assign the others to Chad and Jeremiah so we can process them simultaneously. I’ll review all the findings and the scenes again before we conclude our work. Any questions?”

“I just want to confirm that all of the results will come to me,” Mina said.

Blake nodded and lifted an iPad from under his arm. “I have a contract here that we’ll sign stipulating that very thing. You can also authorize us to share with anyone you might want to be included in this document as well.”

“Just me for now,” she said. “If that changes, I’ll let you know.”

Nolan wanted to say something. To argue. But he gritted his teeth and stood quietly while the Veritas staff eyed him and Mina, likely looking for any tension that might exist. He didn’t want to communicate any unease. Mina had every right to get the forensic reports delivered to her, and she had every right not to share them with him. She said she would, and he hoped she did, but he knew she would only give him information she thought pertinent for him to know.

Not that he could do the same thing with her. Everything his team learned had already been shared with her, and everything they learned in the future would go via El as well.

Sierra clapped her hands. “Then let’s get to the first crime scene. We have the address of the escape room, and we’ll meet you there.” She started off, and Blake followed her.

Mina and Nolan caught up to them.

“We have an envelope that needs processing too,” Mina said. “It once held one of the escape room invitations sent to the team. Unfortunately, all of the invitations were surrendered to the man in charge of the evening and the other envelopes destroyed, so this is the only remaining one. It’s in my car.”

“And you should know,” Nolan added, “it was thrown in the trash, so you might find interesting residue that has nothing to do with the mail delivery or origination.”

“We’ll mark that as exhibit one,” Blake said.

“One of many things we’ll be collecting today,” Sierra added.

At their vehicles, Nolan stared at her. “Let’s hope something you find leads us to the killer, because as of this moment, we have few promising leads.”