Dead Woman Crossing by J.R. Adler (books on motivation .txt) 📗

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

“Just caught one of them pounding headaches,” Kimberley said.

Sam leaned back in his chair. “Hope it’s not contagious.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Kimberley said crisply, setting down her mug. “I think I got a break on the Hannah Brown case.”

Sam instantly leaned forward in his chair, placing his elbows on his desk, all ears. Kimberley bounced her foot, nerves creeping up for what she was about to do to her family, well, her mother’s family.

“Last night, I went over to Emily’s place for a girls’ dinner-type thing,” Kimberley explained. “And I found out some things about Wyatt. Apparently, the farm is in trouble, their marriage is on the rocks, and he’s been spending his evenings at The Trophy Room.”

“Okay,” Sam said carefully.

“On the night of Hannah’s murder, he didn’t come home until after three a.m. because he was drinking at the bar. Ryan said he closed up at two and went to bed after that. The timing and the stories aren’t adding up. Wyatt or Ryan are lying. Maybe they’re both lying, but they don’t have a concrete alibi for when Hannah was killed.” Kimberley rattled off everything she knew.

“That’s not enough to arrest someone.” Sam tilted his head.

“I know. But it’s enough to ask questions.”

“Sam. Chief Deputy King.” Burns stood in the doorway holding a file. Kimberley turned back in her chair.

“Come in, Burns,” Sam said, beckoning with his hand.

He walked into the office to the side of the desk and handed the file over to Sam. He opened it and started flipping through the pages covered in text.

“What am I looking at?”

“Hannah Brown’s phone records.”

Kimberley sat forward in her chair, trying to get a good view of it.

“Give me the highlights,” Sam said.

“Nothing discerning about her text messages. She only ever texted her mom and her co-worker. Either she wasn’t a big texter or she didn’t have a lot of friends. There’s an unsaved number on the phone that she receives and makes calls to several times a week, going back at least a year. That’s as far back as we could pull. The calls occur late at night or in the wee hours of the morning.”

“Who’s the number belong to?” Kimberley asked.

“We’re still trying to determine that. Bear called it himself and it went straight to the standard preset voicemail. We’re in contact with several cell phone providers to determine the owner of the number. But we’re thinking it’s unregistered, a burner phone.”

Sam nodded.

“What about her photo album? Social media?” Kimberley asked.

“Nothing strange about her photos, mostly pics of her daughter. She has the Facebook app on her phone and we checked that. She rarely posted,” Burns explained.

“Anything else?” Sam asked, thumbing through the papers.

“Yeah, she made a phone call at three a.m. on September eighth.”

Kimberley’s eyes went wide. “That’s smack-dab in the middle of the estimated time of death when she was murdered?”

“Why the hell didn’t you start with that?” Sam closed up the folder and tossed it on his desk.

“Who’d she call?” Kimberley asked.

“Wyatt Miller.”

Kimberley looked over at a now wide-eyed Sam. “Is that enough to bring him in for formal questioning?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he said, standing from his seat.

“How long did they talk for?” Kimberley looked to Burns.

“They didn’t. Outgoing call. Less than ten seconds. Looks like he didn’t pick up.”

“Was his number saved in her phone?”

“Yep. Under Wyatt Miller. We verified with the cell provider to make sure it belonged to him. It does.” Burns nodded.

“Why the hell would Hannah call Wyatt?” Kimberley thought out loud.

“I don’t know. But we’re sure as hell going to find out.” Sam grabbed the folder from his desk. “Good work, Burns. Work on finding out who that other unsaved number belongs to.”

“You got it.” He nodded and ducked out, heading back to his desk.

“Let’s go, King,” Sam said, marching out of his office.

Kimberley followed behind. She didn’t relish the prospect of bringing in her stepbrother-in-law, but she knew it had to be done. They had cause to bring in Wyatt. No alibi and the last phone call Hannah made was to Wyatt. It was the right thing to do, regardless of how it would affect the already fragile family relations.

Sam looked at Kimberley as they walked across the parking lot to his Ford Bronco, lips pressed together, like he was mulling it all over, deciding the best course of action. They were more alike than either of them knew. Thinking of one hundred different ways this could go right or wrong.

“This is your family, so I can take care of it, if you want?” Sam offered.

Kimberley looked back at him squarely. “You’re right. This is my family… so I’ll handle it.”

She hopped in the passenger seat and Sam in the driver’s seat. Before starting up the engine, he looked over at her. Her eyes were strained and bloodshot. Her jaw clenched. Her chin slightly raised. Her lips pressed firmly together, defiant. He opened his mouth, but then closed it as if he were about to protest but decided not to.

Kimberley was dead set on doing this, with or without Sam’s permission.

22

Sam glanced over at Kimberley as he put the vehicle in park. She was looking out the passenger-side window, staring at the golden rolling fields surrounding the family farm. Her brows pinched together as she remembered what it was she was here to do.

“You sure you want to do this?” Sam asked.

Kimberley turned her head toward him. “I don’t want to. I have to.”

“We’re going to pick up Ryan too, since, from what you told me Emily said, their alibies are dependent on one another and conflicting. Ryan claims he closed up at two a.m. and went to bed and Emily said Wyatt was at the bar until after three a.m.”

Kimberley nodded.

They sat there for a few more silent moments.

“You know how Jeff, the drunk at the bar, said there were rumors that Hannah was a prostitute?” Kimberley thought out loud.

“Yeah.”

“You