Cross Her Heart (Bree Taggert #1)(13)

Todd sighed. “I’ll tell you what will be in this morning’s press release.” He consulted a paper on his desk. “The bullet that killed Erin Taggert was a 9mm. Justin’s father is missing a Sig Sauer P226 9mm handgun.”

Damn.

Justin had been convicted of a felony. He couldn’t legally possess a weapon. If he’d wanted one, he would have needed to find another way.

“Mr. Moore didn’t know it was missing until we talked to him,” Todd continued. “He kept it in his nightstand. It’s possible Justin stole it from his father. Did he say anything to you about a weapon?”

“No.”

Todd frowned. “Do you know Erin’s family’s history?”

“Yes.”

“The case is already getting media attention. They’re calling it the Déjà vu Murder.”

“Then the press has decided Justin is guilty.”

“I can’t control the media,” Todd said.

“But you could at least say that you have other lines of investigation.”

Todd’s gaze went flat. “I’ll be issuing a press release later this morning. At this point, I don’t have any other theories. The fact is that Justin’s soon-to-be ex-wife was shot in his house, and there are no signs of forced entry.”

“I can’t believe Justin would kill anyone, let alone Erin.”

What if Justin was also dead? What if he’d been kidnapped by Erin’s killer? What if she’d been killed because of something Justin had done, like owed money to a drug dealer? He’d purchased his oxy from someone. Had she walked in on a drug deal?

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.