Page 21 of The Sinner’s Son (Sawyer and Royce: Felonies and Fatherhood #2)

“Except it wasn’t a script. Why aren’t you bitter toward the FBI if they accused you of murder and ignored your insistence that there were likely more victims?”

“The simple answer is that I might need them again in the future,” Alec replied.

“Blasting them on my social media platforms won’t curry any favors with them.

And they could’ve dragged out my Freedom of Information Act request for a really long time, but they complied quickly and thoroughly once they closed the case.

The photographs they took of the remaining trinkets are better than mine, and now I have copies of his trucking manifests.

It’s unlikely the agent assigned to Andrew’s case would have been permitted to spend countless hours mapping his movements across the country, hoping to link victims to the unmatched trinkets in his box.

I have the time and determination to do it, so I will. ”

Alec cocked his head to the side. “And it was curiosity that prompted me to drive to the truck stop and snoop around in Andrew’s truck.

I hadn’t seen him in nineteen years. He was only a few hours away and hadn’t bothered to reach out.

He’d put a slip of paper in his wallet that named me as his next of kin and provided my cell phone number.

That wasn’t something I ever provided to him, so Andrew had sought a way to reach me but didn’t. I wanted to know why.”

“And did you get your answers?”

Alec shook his head. “I never spoke to Andrew. He was in surgery when I arrived at the hospital, and I never went back after I found his stash. We maintained no contact during his stint in prison before his death.”

“Do you regret that?” Sawyer asked. “I’m sure you have so many questions.”

Alec conceded the point with a slight nod. “But I wouldn’t have trusted a word that came from his mouth. I’ll let the evidence do the talking for him.”

“Fair enough.” Sawyer checked his watch and noticed that Ricky had been recording their conversation. Frustration flared in his gut, but he reminded himself that he’d agreed to this, and he had the final say on what got aired. “Just warn me next time.”

“And ruin the take or let you hide your genuine reactions behind a professional veneer?” Ricky asked. “Never.”

Alec offered a sympathetic smile. “You get used to it.”

“To the recording equipment or Ricky’s orneriness?” Sawyer pressed.

“Both,” Alec and Ricky said in unison, then followed it up with a dual “Jinx!”

“Our call with Talia starts in eight minutes,” Sawyer told them after a shared laugh. “She strikes me as someone who would arrive early, so I’m going to sign in.” He pointed to Alec over his laptop. “We don’t record any part of this call without permission, understood?”

Ricky gave him a two-finger salute before typing furiously on his keyboard.

Alec scooted closer so they could share a screen. Talia had already joined the call and agreed to both video and audio recording when asked.

“It’s good to meet you both,” Talia told them.

“I’d honestly given up hope of finding out who killed Monica.

We were as close as sisters growing up but had drifted apart as young ladies.

She’d gone to college, and I got married and started a family.

But I always loved her. I often wonder what her life would’ve been like if she’d lived.

But now I have hope for a resolution after decades, so I thank you both for that. ”

“Are you familiar with my story?” Alec asked her.

“A little,” Talia replied. “I honestly hadn’t heard about you until Detective Sergeant Key called me last week. I listened to your audiobook over the weekend. My, you’ve really been through it.”

“Not really,” Alec said. “Andrew’s victims and their families are the ones who’ve suffered. I want to make it right.”

“Honey, you’re a victim too,” Talia told him. “There’s no way the discovery didn’t wreak havoc on your brain.”

Alec chuckled uncomfortably. “That is true. I may have done a lot of research about the inner workings of a serial killer to make sure I hadn’t inherited an evil gene from Andrew. I rehashed every decision and move I’ve ever made, looking for any signs that it might get me too.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Talia said gently.

“No,” Alec agreed. “I eventually arrived at that point too. I’m focused on righting the wrongs now.”

“That’s very admirable,” Talia told Alec before turning her attention to Sawyer. “You have an impressive record of closing cold cases.”

“Thank you. I’m incredibly proud of the work my unit does.”

“The two of you make a good team,” Talia said.

Alec bumped his shoulder against Sawyer’s. “I agree.”

“So, how can I help you solve Monica’s murder?”

Sawyer and Alec took turns recapping what little they knew, including the newly discovered similarities to Emma Sanderson’s case.

“The unnamed friend mentioned in the police report would’ve been Becca.

Those two were inseparable. You’d never see one without the other.

Becca came with Monica to all our family functions.

If I’m honest, I suspected they were more than friends, but no one has ever confirmed that.

Becca’s maiden name was Hughes, but she’s gotten married a few times.

I can track her down through Facebook if you give me a day or two. I know we have friends in common.”

“That would be great,” Sawyer said.

“In the meantime, can I ask you about something else?” Alec asked.

Talia straightened in her chair. “Of course. Name it.”

“This part makes me feel really uncomfortable when talking to a victim’s family or a potential victim in this case.”

“The souvenirs?” Talia asked.

“Yes,” Alec replied. “If you listened to my book, you know the solved cases included trinkets that were wrapped in newspaper clippings or printouts of articles. What I didn’t reveal is that there were quite a few unmatched items in the box, and I was hoping you’d know if Monica wore or carried something easily identifiable. ”

“I anticipated this question and discussed it with my family over the weekend,” Talia said.

“Monica wore the same style of clothes everyone else did during that era. She followed the same trends and shopped at the same stores. Heck, we struggled to recall what we even wore back then. But I remembered something late last night. Our grandmother had died when we were in high school, and our mothers divided important jewelry pieces among her children and grandchildren. They gave Monica a cameo broach. Do you know what that is?” Talia asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Sawyer said as recognition sparked in his brain.

“That’s like a carving of a woman’s face in profile, correct?” Alec kept his tone cool, but his leg bounced under the table. “It’s usually set against a solid background.”

“That’s right,” Talia said. “Monica had pinned her broach to a piece of velvet and wore hers around her neck like a choker. You guys are too young to remember that trend, but it was wildly popular for a time in the nineties. Her cameo had been carved from a concha shell and set against a coral background. I remember there being a slight chip in the shell near the bottom of the bust. The velvet choker was almost the same color as the background. They didn’t find the necklace in her bedroom after she disappeared, and I believe Becca said she’d been wearing it at the fairgrounds. ”

“If she described Monica’s outfit and accessories, it hadn’t made it into the police file,” Sawyer said.

Talia raised a brow. “I’m willing to bet the information in that file is thin.”

“Unforgivably so,” he agreed. “Would you have a picture of Monica wearing the cameo choker?”

“I’m certain of it,” Talia replied. “She wore it all the time. I called my mother, who our family lovingly refers to as the archivist, and she’s going to look through the photo albums from that time period.

It might take her a day or two to find the right boxes and go through the albums, but she will find it. ”

“That’s incredible news,” Alec said. “Thank you. I appreciate it so much.”

“You’re welcome.”

They chatted for a few more minutes before Talia excused herself to go back to work with a promise to be in touch soon.

Alec disconnected the call, bowed his head, and sat motionless for several moments.

“Holy shit,” he whispered. “I was right.” There wasn’t an ounce of hubris in his voice, only dejection.

Sawyer looked at Ricky and Marina for guidance, but they didn’t seem to know how to react in the moment either.

“Do you want to be alone?” Sawyer asked.

Alec shook his head. “I just…don’t know how to feel. There’s no joy in proving I was right about Andrew having more victims.” He stood up and reached for his aluminum water bottle. “I think I’m going to get some fresh air.”

“Me too,” Ricky said.

Marina stood up. “Me three.”

They all looked at Sawyer.

“I believe I promised you lunch,” he said. “My favorite Mexican restaurant is within walking distance from here.”

Alec shook his head. “I’m not good company right now. I, um, think I’ll call it a day and go back to my rental on Tybee Island.”

Marina exchanged a worried look with Ricky. “I think that’s a wrap for the day,” she said.

Ricky closed his laptop and began unplugging his equipment.

“You guys can leave whatever you’d like to in here,” Sawyer said. “I keep everything locked tight.”

Ricky shook his head. “My gear goes wherever I do.”

“Understood,” Sawyer said. “Guess I’ll see everyone tomorrow.”

The trio left much quieter than when they arrived, and the bullpen was less lively without the playful banter he’d witnessed between them all morning.

The mood in the room had turned melancholy, and he’d had enough of that over the weekend.

So, Sawyer continued with his lunch plans, only he had a new companion in mind.

After a quick text to Kelsey, the two of them were on their way.

The day had turned oppressively hot, so they’d driven to the restaurant instead of walking.

Kelsey listened in rapt attention as Sawyer caught her up on what had happened with the investigation so far.

“Oh, wow,” she said once he finished. “I can’t imagine how Alec must be feeling right now. I’m not sure being alone is what’s best for him.”

“I don’t know Alec well enough to say. I think I’d want to hide away and lick my wounds if I were him.”

“Maybe so,” Kelsey conceded.

“And I’m going to need a nickname for your husband since he has the same first name as Andrew Bishop. Does he ever go by Andy or Drew?”

“Nope,” Kelsey said, popping the P . “You’ll have to get creative.”

“What do you call him?” Sawyer knew he’d set himself up as soon as the words left his mouth.

“Big Sexy.”

Sawyer rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I don’t think he’ll care for that.”

Kelsey shrugged. “Won’t know until you try.”

“And in other news,” Sawyer said before his mind could start pondering the original story for that nickname. Big because of his height, or…

“Don’t keep me hanging,” Kelsey said. “What other news?”

“Eddie had a health scare this morning, and Royce told him we were having a baby.” Sawyer parked the car and looked over at Kelsey. “And for reasons I’ll never understand, Royce told Eddie that I held the cup during the sperm donation.”

“What the hell?” Kelsey yelled before bursting into laughter. “Oh. My. God.”

“Yeah, right? How does that naturally come up in conversation?”

“I don’t know, but I bet you’re going to find out,” Kelsey said.

“Hell yeah. Royce invited Eddie to dinner without discussing it with me first. He wants me to serve Eddie healthy food that, and I quote, ‘mostly tastes good’ and teach him healthier ways to live.”

Kelsey laughed until she cried. “Royce will be in fine form as he tries to get himself out of trouble.”

“And I’ll be on the receiving end of his glorious attempts.” Sawyer rubbed his hands together. “And I can’t wait.”