Stolen Daughters by Carolyn Arnold (top novels TXT) 📗

“Uh-huh. County Services reserves the right to request that the house be returned to its previous state. They can even levy a fine, but thankfully, I was able to negotiate that away. I got the contractor in about two months ago to do the work, but I’m still waiting for a county inspector to give us the all-clear. Then I’ll get the real estate agent back on it and insure the property with an outside firm.”

When she and Kevin had renovated their house, he’d handled everything. Hopefully, he got the necessary permits, and it wouldn’t come back to haunt her. “Could you run us through what happens when the bank reclaims a property? I’m mostly interested in how many people would have been involved and may have known it was sitting empty.”

“The bank always tries to help the homeowner retain their property, but once efforts to secure credit have been exhausted, legal notices are served. Upon foreclosure, we commission a third-party inspector and an estimator to go in. We also line up a real estate agent.”

The list of people was growing. “We won’t take up much more of your time, Mr. Adkins, but we do have one other question about the property: why were the windows boarded?”

“The neighborhood’s not the best, and we wanted to discourage squatters.”

“Yet there were,” she said with some empathy for the spot the banker found himself in.

Aiden frowned and rubbed his jaw. “Yeah, I read that there was a girl who died in the fire.” His gaze made his statement a question.

“The body of a young woman was found,” Amanda confirmed.

“Murdered?”

“It’s an open investigation.”

“Oy vey, so that’s a yes. I might as well just hand in my resignation. That house is cursed, I tell you. Who’s going to buy it now?”

“A young woman is dead,” Trent said firmly.

Aiden met his gaze and massaged his forehead. “I’m sorry… It’s just this property has been a nightmare from the start.”

While Amanda felt for Aiden’s position, she wasn’t about to become influenced by emotion. She drew one of her business cards and extended it to him, and she took one of his from a holder on his desk. She pointed to hers in his hand. “Please shoot me over the names of everyone involved with this property. The inspector, estimator, real estate agent, contractor, and whoever you dealt with at County Services. My email’s on there.”

Aiden looked at her card. “I can do that.”

Amanda thanked the banker, and she and Trent left his office.

Stepping into the parking lot, she said to Trent, “We just got a few more potential suspects.”

“A few? I’d say a lot more than that.”

Her phone rang, and she answered as she got into the department car. “Detective Steele… We’ll be right there.”

“Who was that?” Trent said, glancing over as he clicked his seat belt into place.

“Malone.” She met his gaze, an ache burrowing into her heart. “Shannon Fox is dead. Found murdered in her bedroom.”

Seventeen

Becky Tulson was standing outside her patrol car, which was at the curb in front of Shannon Fox’s residence. She was talking to a woman who was crying and holding a yoga mat rolled under one arm. Trent parked behind the cruiser, and he and Amanda got out and headed for the house.

Amanda caught Becky’s eye as she walked past. The woman was probably the one who had found the victim. They’d get back to her, but first Amanda wanted to look at the scene.

She and Trent started up the walkway when the sound of a vehicle had her turning. The forensics van had arrived with two CSIs—Emma Blair behind the wheel. Amanda would have been happy to have a little more time before seeing Blair again.

Amanda and Trent signed in with the officer at the front door, and he stepped aside for them to enter. He told them to go up the stairs and down the hall to the second door on the right.

Up there, they found Becky’s new sergeant, Lisa Greer, in the hall with Malone. Now that the PWCPD detectives were on scene, Sergeant Greer would move out, along with the other Dumfries PD officers.

“It’s not pretty in there,” Malone said to Amanda.

“I’m going to go before we all start tripping on each other.” Greer excused herself and passed Amanda and Trent with a subtle nod before she headed down the stairs.

Amanda edged closer to Malone. “What are we looking at?” He hadn’t given her any details on the phone. He’d just told her to get her butt over there quick.

He moved aside to allow her and Trent the space to get past him.

She held eye contact with him as she brushed by him into the room. She saw the body immediately.

Shannon Fox was slumped on the floor and against the wall, like a puppet whose puppeteer had let go of her strings. One arm lay at her side; the other was folded into her lap, her hand closed. Her head was arched back so far that it was unnatural. Given the angle of her body, it would have made more sense if her head had fallen forward, chin to chest. It was like her eyes were looking upward.

Blood had dried around her mouth and on her chin. A trail led down her neck and stained the front of her white bathrobe like a macabre bib. Farther down her torso another red bloom soaked through and around a hole in the cotton.

Amanda pointed that out to Trent and said, “She was stabbed or shot.” She continued to scan the room. A wooden baseball bat was lodged in the wall, and she gestured to it. “Doesn’t look like she was beaten, but she may have tried to defend herself.”

“Let’s hope she got some good hits in before her killer got the upper hand.”

She felt the same way. A good beating might do the man some good. But had Jane Doe’s killer returned for Shannon? If so, why?

Malone shadowed the doorway. “You take a close