Matt didn’t express his alternative theories, which all involved Justin still using drugs and would not imply he was innocent.
“You have to admit the cases are eerily similar,” Todd said.
“Erin’s parents died twentysomething years ago,” Matt said. “I highly doubt there’s any connection.”
“No.” Todd looked toward his window. The shade was down, blocking the view and most of the light. “You’re right. The similarities are probably coincidence.”
Matt suppressed his frustration. Todd was going into this investigation with a preconceived theory, which would influence how he viewed the evidence. It happened even to experienced investigators.
Todd bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he lifted his head, he handed over the folder. “Please read your statement. I need to get back to work.”
Matt reviewed and signed the statement Todd had prepared from the previous night’s interview. He put his hands on the arms of the chair, ready to rise.
“You know,” Todd said in a quiet voice, “I was surprised when the sheriff made me chief deputy. The job should have been yours. You had more experience.”
Matt hesitated, surprised at the admission.
Despite his exemplary record, instead of being promoted, Matt had been given a K-9 and put back on patrol. The sheriff had acted as if the reassignment had been an honor. Brody had been Randolph County’s first dog. But Matt knew the job had really been a demotion. The old sheriff hadn’t wanted Matt around. He’d wanted him back in the field.
Back in the line of fire.
Stop!
Matt had no proof the sheriff had been out to get him, and every time his mind went off on the conspiracy theory, he felt like he needed to wear an aluminum foil hat.
He lifted a shoulder. “Considering how things worked out, it doesn’t really matter now.”
“No hard feelings then?”
“No.” Matt’s old grudge was reserved for the dead sheriff. But if Todd fucked up this case, Matt would hold that against him.
“I’ll call when I have more questions for you.”
“Sure.” Matt pushed out of the chair. Brody followed him from the room. Marge was busy helping someone in the lobby, so they didn’t stop to say goodbye. Matt pushed out of the station and walked toward his Suburban. The wind blew ice dust across the parking lot. He spotted Bree Taggert leaning against the door of a Honda Accord. He stopped a few feet away. Her face was still pale, her eyes lost, and she was shivering. She wore jeans and a black hip-length coat but no hat, gloves, or scarf.
“I’d like to talk to you,” she said. Her lips were slightly bluish. Had she been standing out here the entire time he’d been in Todd’s office? He glanced at the building. Two reporters exited the station and headed for news vans parked on the other side of the lot.
“Let’s get out of the cold.” Matt gestured toward his vehicle.
Her gaze kept dropping to Brody. “Can we meet somewhere?”
“The diner?” he suggested.
“Too public.”
“Are you OK to drive?”
“Yes.”
“Then follow me.” Matt turned and opened the rear door of his Suburban. Brody jumped into the vehicle. Then Matt slid behind the wheel. His house was ten minutes from the station. He drove with one eye on the rearview mirror, making sure her Honda stayed behind him.
He lived in a restored farmhouse on twenty-five acres. He pulled into his driveway and parked. Behind his house, barking sounded from the kennels. Matt and Brody climbed out of the SUV and walked to the front door. Bree parked next to his vehicle and followed. She kept her distance. Inside the house, Matt led her back to the kitchen and sent Brody to his crate.
Brody trotted across the tile and disappeared into the bedroom.
“You don’t have to cage your dog,” she said.
“It’s fine. Brody doesn’t mind his crate. It’s his den, not a punishment.” Though Matt hadn’t used it often since the dog retired, but he sensed the dog made her nervous.
She walked a circle around his kitchen.
Matt started a pot of coffee. “Have you eaten?”
“I’m not hungry, but I’d appreciate some coffee.” She stripped off her wool coat and hung it on the back of a chair, along with a slim purse. Standing at the french doors that overlooked the backyard, with its kennel and dog runs, she rubbed her arms. “How many dogs do you have?”
“There are six in the kennel, but only Brody belongs to me.” Matt came to stand beside her. “When I built the kennels, my goal was to train K-9s. Before I could get the business going, my sister filled the kennel. She runs a dog rescue organization.” He handed her a mug.
She wrapped both hands around it. “Thank you.”
“You don’t like dogs?” he asked, glancing sideways.
Her brows drew together.
“I was bitten as a child.” She clamped her mouth shut as if embarrassed by the admission, but he could tell there was more to the story. She stared down at her coffee. “The deputy said you found my sister.”
“Yes. I’m so sorry.”
She nodded, a short choke sounding deep in her throat. She swallowed. “Can you tell me about it?”
“I was supposed to drive Justin to his NA meeting. He didn’t answer the door, so I went in. I found her on the bedroom floor.” Matt didn’t give details. She’d ask when she was ready to hear them.
She shuddered and closed her eyes for a few seconds. When she opened them, she’d composed herself. “But Justin wasn’t there?”
“No,” Matt said. Did she think he’d helped Justin get away?
“Why was Erin at his house? And where is Justin?”
“I don’t know.” Matt pictured the scene.
Bree’s eyes narrowed. “That makes no sense.”
He shrugged.
She was quiet for a few minutes. “You’re no longer with the sheriff’s department?”
“No. Brody and I were shot three years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She gave him a sympathetic look. “What do you do now?”
“It was friendly fire, so there was a settlement. We won’t starve.” Matt flexed his hand. The pink scar in the center of his palm stretched as he opened his fist. He’d taken a bullet in the back too. Ironically, that one hadn’t hit anything vital. The nerve damage in his hand was permanent. “I can’t shoot with my right at all. Unfortunately, it’s my dominant hand. No more law enforcement for me.”
Overshare.
He cleared his throat. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
She shook her head. “I called the ME’s office. They’ll call me when I can see Erin.” Her voice faltered. She looked away, her eyes troubled.
“Let me go with you,” he offered. “No one should have to do that alone.”
She glanced up at him. For a minute, he thought she was going to turn him down.
“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.” She took a long, shaky breath. “I haven’t seen the kids yet. I don’t know what to say to them.”
“All you can do is be there,” he said.
“On that note, I should go.” She turned and set her mug on the kitchen island. Pivoting to face him again, she said, “What’s going on with the sheriff’s department and this chief deputy?”