Lie To Her (Bree Taggert #6)(6)

“Already requested,” Todd said.
“Good.” Bree was impressed with the improvement of his investigation skills since she’d taken office.
The distant wail of a siren signaled the approach of additional responders. She heard voices and vehicle doors being slammed. Bree exhaled, the tightness of her lungs indicating she’d been restricting her breath. “Sounds like reinforcements are here. Matt, you take over out here. Todd, take me to the 911 caller, then get that ETA from the medical examiner.”
With a fresh corpse, the sooner the ME arrived, the more accurate her assessment of time of death would be.
As Bree followed Todd from the backyard around the side of the house toward the street, she heard Matt check in with a deputy setting up barriers and stringing up crime scene tape. When she reached the front of the house, she saw a red Prius in the driveway and two more patrol vehicles parked on the street. The road was a dead end, with only two other houses in sight.
“Did you knock on the neighbors’ doors?” Bree asked.
“Yes, ma’am.” Todd pointed to the house next door, which sported a for-sale sign and a fair amount of neglect. “That one looks vacant.” He indicated the house across the street. “No one answered there, but the place looks occupied.”
He led Bree to the second patrol car. A woman was huddled in the back seat.
A deputy stood next to the vehicle. “She was shivering. I put her in the car and turned on the heat.”
Peering into the vehicle, Bree recognized a dark sheriff’s department blanket wrapped around the woman’s shoulders.
Todd opened the rear door. “Ms. Ledger?”
The woman looked up. Tears spilled from red-rimmed eyes and streaked down her face. “You can call me Avery.” Her voice was small and trembly.
“Could you step out of the vehicle, please?” Todd asked. “The sheriff would like to speak with you.”
“Of course.” She climbed out, wobbling on her high heels. She was in her midtwenties, and she’d put effort into her appearance that night. Tight jeans, thigh-high boots, and a cute puffy jacket flattered her young figure. But crying had taken its toll. Her hair was tangled. Long strands stuck to her tear-dampened face, mascara ringed her eyes, and her lipstick was smeared. Though she was wearing a jacket, she kept the blanket around her shoulders, clutching the edges together in front of her chest.
Todd introduced Bree, then bowed out.
Bree pulled a pen and notebook from her jacket pocket. “I understand you found Mr. LaForge?”
Avery nodded and pressed a hand over her mouth. Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes, visibly composing herself. She opened her eyes. “Yes,” came out in a shaky whisper.
Bree gave her a few seconds to elaborate, but Avery just blinked, like a raccoon caught in the beam of a flashlight. Bree prompted, “What brought you here?”
Avery regarded the ground, her eyes unfocused, like she was seeing something other than the asphalt. “We had a date. He was going to make me dinner. He didn’t answer the door. I went around back because he’d said he was going to grill steaks. I thought he might be outside. But he was . . . He was . . .” Her voice broke. “He was dead,” she sobbed.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Bree said. Interviewing witnesses required a delicate balance between empathizing and extracting information. She felt terrible making shocked people recount their trauma, but the early hours of an investigation were critical. She wanted to catch the killer before he inflicted suffering on anyone else. She gave the woman a few seconds to compose herself, then asked, “What time did you get here?”
Avery wiped her face with two shaking hands. “Around six.”
“Where were you before that?”
“Work,” Avery said. “I left the office at five and stopped home to change before driving out here.”
“How well did you know Spencer?” Bree asked.
Avery sighed. “This was only going to be our third date, but we’ve been messaging a lot.”
“How did you meet?”
“On the dating app TechLove.com,” Avery said.
“I assume that’s a dating app for people who work in tech?”
Avery nodded. “I’m a social media content creator with Get Fit Apparel. Spencer is—was—a digital marketer, but he’s self-employed.”
“Have you met any of Spencer’s friends, family, or coworkers?”
“No.” Avery sniffed. “I’ve only known him about two weeks. On our first date, we were supposed to just meet for coffee. I don’t like to commit to anything more than that. There are too many creeps out there. But Spencer and I seemed to connect right away, so we ended up walking around town after the coffee. It was a nice day, so we got ice cream and sat on a bench at the park. We talked for hours. The next weekend, we had dinner together.” She hiccuped. “I thought I might have found The One.” She bawled out the last word. Her breath hitched, and she pressed her fingertips to her closed eyes.
After Avery lowered her hands, Bree asked, “Did he mention family nearby?”
“His parents are dead, but he has a brother here in Grey’s Hollow. His name is Jasper.” Avery pressed a knuckle to her lips. “They were really close. Jasper named his oldest boy after Spencer. He’s going to be devastated.”
Bree motioned toward the farmhouse. “Had you ever been to Spencer’s house before tonight?”
Avery shook her head. “No, and he hadn’t been to mine either.”
“When was the last time you communicated with him?”