8
The Cortlandt State Police barracks was empty for the most part. There was a trooper working the dispatch desk in the front of the building and a few others milling about by the break room, but none of the other investigators were on the unit floor, and the building itself was quiet. Susan walked inside from the rear parking lot and made her way over to her desk. The serenity was a welcome surprise. She needed to think.
The flat-screen television that hung on the brown paneled wall next to the rotation schedule and whiteboard was on, but the sound had been muted. Local news was replaying the scene on the Taconic, complete with footage of the closed road and an interview with the senior investigator who was in charge. It wouldn’t be long before they’d start running footage of family members and friends. By the end of the day they’d have information on Rebecca too.
She put her bag down on her desk and sat in her chair. The empty desk across the way reminded her of her old partner who’d come and gone, and the chaos he’d left in his wake. Every time she looked at the empty seat, all she could think about was the trust she’d put in him and the betrayal that had cut so deep. Trooper Kincaid had fallen for that same kind of betrayal the moment he had pulled Rebecca Hill’s car over in the middle of the night. Trust that turned to carnage. The only difference was Susan had lived.
The news on the flat screen changed over to the local weather, and Susan’s stomach rumbled. She realized she hadn’t really eaten anything before she’d gotten the call that morning and turned on her laptop. She was about to head over to the vending machine when Crosby walked onto the unit.
“Adler, you’re back.”
“I am.”
“Fill me in. What are we looking at?”
She waited until he’d reached her desk and sat in her partner’s old seat.
“I’m not entirely sure yet. The old man Rebecca was caring for is missing, and his place was definitely tossed. We found some blood on the wall that forensics will try to match with Darville or Rebecca. I also found a small locket, which may or may not be something. And I found a tooth, which would further confirm there was a struggle. If there was money in the hole we found hidden in the floor, that could point to motive for Rebecca.”
“How so?”
“Her mom has liver disease. Cirrhosis. She could’ve taken it to help her mom. Maybe there was enough to split with whoever she was with.”
“You think there’s a partner?”
“Had to be. She’s too small to cause the type of struggle we saw, and her brother has the type of build who could overtake the old man and get him out of the house.”
“Type of build to beat a cop to death.”
“Possibly. I have two troopers on him at the mother’s house. I don’t want to show my hand just yet.”
Crosby leaned back in the chair. “Next steps?”
“I got some units doing door to doors in Verplanck and through Rebecca’s apartment building in White Plains. See if anyone saw or heard anything the last few nights. Also hoping one of Darville’s neighbors has a security camera on their property that might catch something. We have no traffic cams in that area, so we’re blind. Forensics is going through the house picking up samples and pulling prints. Another team is taking samples from Rebecca’s apartment. I sent the tooth for DNA testing to see who it belongs to. Got hairs from brushes at Darville’s house and Rebecca’s apartment for the possible match. I’ll follow up with secondary interviews with Rebecca’s work and the places Darville went for his treatments.”
“Sounds good.”
“Anything on your end?”
Crosby sighed and shook his head. “Not much. Waiting on the dashcam video to come back to see exactly what we’re dealing with. Hopefully we can catch a clear image of Rebecca or her brother or whoever is responsible for what happened out there. We have a BOLO out for the old man. Details about Darville and Rebecca are being given to the press and surrounding departments in a fifty-mile radius. Maybe somebody saw something.”
“Let’s hope.”
Crosby got up from his seat. “You want some help with this? I got other investigators clamoring to assist. All hands on deck and whatnot. I can call Hawthorne or Manhattan and have them send us someone. Or, like I said before, I can pull Chris or Bill if you want to keep it local.”
“No,” Susan replied quickly. “I’m good. Mel’s helping.”
“Mel’s got his own troop to worry about. He’s a sergeant, not an investigator.”
“I know, but it’s all hands, right?”
“You’re going to need to take on a partner with these tougher cases. We all know what happened, and I’ve been trying to give you space, but on things like this, you need backup.”
Susan looked at the empty desk across from her. She knew she was being foolish for refusing a partner, but she just wasn’t ready to trust anyone yet. Not after everything that went so horrifically wrong. Not after so many lives had been changed. It wasn’t time.
“I’m good right now,” she said. “Seriously. If things ramp up and I need help, I’ll raise my hand. And after this case is done, we’ll talk about taking on a partner on the next one. Just let me run with this.”
Crosby walked across the unit and stopped when he reached his office. He looked back at her and pointed, his large frame taking up the entire doorway. “This is the last big one you’re running solo on. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“You need help, you tell me. Mel has enough to worry about, and if I have to pay him overtime, the captain’s gonna get pissed.”
“If I need help, I’ll tell you. I promise.”
“Find these people.”
Susan nodded. “You know I will.”
9
Trevor was sitting at the dining room table, huddled over his laptop, his back to her.
“How is she?” he asked when he heard her come in.
“Not great. I gave her a Valium.”
“She better learn to relax. She’s making me nervous.”
Cindy walked farther into the room. “What’re you looking at?”
“The trooper story,” he replied. “It’s all over the news. All the major New York outlets are running with it. A few national websites picked it up too. Associated Press has a small article, but by tomorrow this is going to be all over the place.”
“Do they know anything?”
“They released Rebecca’s name and picture. That’s it so far.”
“Nothing on James?”
“No.”
“No mention of the dashcam?”
“Not yet.”
Cindy sat down in a chair next to Trevor and looked at the screen. Patrick Kincaid. She had a mental image of his young face appearing in her window, explaining that the roads were too slick to be driving so fast and suggesting she look in the glove compartment for Rebecca’s registration. Fractured images kaleidoscoped in her mind. The blood on her hands. The sound the car door made when Trooper Kincaid opened it and instructed her to get out. The wet slop of the tire iron crushing that poor man’s skull. She looked away from the screen, afraid to read on, not wanting to know what loved ones he’d left behind because she already knew what being a loved one who was left behind meant. She knew what it felt like. The shock. The pain. The hurt. Her sister had left her behind. Then her mother. She knew what the trooper’s family would be going through in the days, weeks, and months to come. She’d lived it.