Cross Her Heart (Bree Taggert #1)(8)

“We went to grade school together.”

“You knew the victim too?”

Matt nodded. “But not as well.”

“Since he lives here, and her address is a rural route outside town, can I assume they were separated?”

“Yes.” Matt took a deep breath. The facts were the facts. “Justin and Erin married four years ago. I was the best man in their wedding.”

“Did they have any kids?”

“She has two, but they aren’t Justin’s.” Matt’s stomach cramped with pity.

Todd scraped a hand across his jaw. “Shit.”

Yeah. Shit.

Grief choked Matt as he pictured the children.

“How old are they?” Todd asked.

Matt cleared his throat. “Luke is in high school. Kayla is still in grade school.”

Todd pulled a small notepad from his pocket. “I’ll loop in social services. I also have to notify next of kin. Do you know who that might be?”

“Erin’s parents are dead.” Matt remembered Erin’s family from the wedding. The story of her parents’ deaths stuck with him. “She has a brother and a sister. The sister lives in Philadelphia, but the brother is local. Erin kept her maiden name, so you should be able to find him.”

Todd made a note. “How long has Justin lived here?”

“Four months, since his second DWAI.” Matt suppressed a pang of guilt. Todd would already have Justin’s record, but Matt still felt disloyal giving him the information.

“Was their breakup volatile?” Todd was definitely focused on Justin as a suspect. The spouse was always on the list, but a good detective didn’t go into an investigation with any preconceived notions that could influence how he viewed the scene and evidence. Then again, most of Todd’s experience was as a patrol officer and supervisor. He’d never been an investigator. How many murders had he handled?

“No.” Matt shook his head. “Erin didn’t want the drugs in the house with her kids. He didn’t blame her.”

“So, he wasn’t angry at all after his wife kicked him out of his house?” Todd sounded incredulous.

“It’s her house, not his.”

Todd pressed his lips together. “Do you know why she was here this evening?”

“No.” Matt’s gut twisted. “I talked to Justin yesterday. He didn’t mention it.”

“OK.” Todd turned as the medical examiner gestured from the doorway of the house. “I need to get back to it. I’ll probably be here all night. I need you to come to the station in the morning and sign a statement.”

“Sure.” Matt’s fingers stroked Brody’s head. The dog leaned against his legs, his weight nearly buckling Matt’s knees. He leaned into the dog to counter the pressure.

Todd turned away. Matt pictured the scene. Questions about Erin’s presence ran through his head. What had she been doing there?

“Did you find her cell phone?” Matt called after him.

Todd walked away without answering. Would he shut Matt out of the case?

Matt looked down at Brody. As usual, the shepherd’s brown eyes looked right through him. Brody whined again.

“I know. I’m worried about Justin too.”

As a friend, he worried that Justin could be in serious trouble. As a former investigator, he knew that Justin would be a primary suspect, and as a former deputy, he worried about the chief deputy’s lack of investigative experience and Matt’s 20 percent uncertainty about his honesty.

With or without the chief deputy’s cooperation, Matt would find out what had happened.





CHAPTER FOUR

He lathered his hands and arms to the elbow, then rinsed thoroughly and repeated the process twice more. He’d worn gloves, but he didn’t want to take any chance that blood, gunshot residue, or other trace evidence clung to his skin.

When he was finished, he dried his hands on a paper towel and tossed it in the trash. Flecks and streaks of dried blood spotted the front of his pants and his shirt cuffs. He stripped off his clothes and stuffed them in a paper grocery bag.

He hadn’t realized there would be so much blood.

That sounded stupid. Of course a bullet wound bled. But the amount had surprised him. Blood had poured out of her, forming a puddle. It had expanded rapidly under her body, spreading across the pale carpet in a thick pool, like he’d spilled a full gallon of red paint. And the smell—metallic, like coins, blended with the scent of gunpowder, resulting in an odor that was pungent and nauseating.

The whole experience hadn’t been what he’d expected.

But it was done. She’d been an obstacle, and he’d removed her. In that way, her death had been her own stubborn fault. She’d known exactly what she was doing. He’d warned her multiple times, but she’d refused to listen. Instead, she’d threatened him.

As he remembered her disrespect, fresh rage boiled inside him.

Yeah, she’d gotten exactly what she’d deserved.

She’d brought this on herself. All she’d had to do was shut her fucking mouth and do what she was told. But no. She’d thought she was better than him.

And now she was dead.

She’d be silent forever.

He showered, lathering and rinsing his body multiple times. He’d taken precautions. There was little chance of him carrying evidence on his body. But he couldn’t stop himself. He scrubbed his skin until it was raw, as if washing his body cleansed his soul. Then he dressed. He cleaned the soles of the boots with oxygen bleach. He’d drive a few towns over and drop them in a donation bin the next day.