Echoes of Murder (Till Death do us Part Book 2) (6 page)

“What is wrong with you?!” Dustin stepped out of a black Toyota Tacoma, slamming the door closed behind him. “You mind telling me why you maced Alex McMasters in the face?”

“How did you know I was there?” Reagan asked.

“His girlfriend says you were harassing him.”

“I wasn’t
harassing
anyone. We were just talking.”

“Why did you feel compelled to mace him then?”

“I asked him not to come any closer to me, and he did. He’s a criminal, Dustin. I wasn’t taking any chances.”

“You can’t go around pepper-spraying people in the face. He could press charges.”

She shrugged. “It was a small amount of spray. He’s a big guy. He needs to suck it up and get over it.”

“The way you used it, it could still be considered a crime.” 

She shrugged. “Self-defense.”

“Why were you there?”

“Nathan saw a man matching his description enter Evan’s room the night Dakota was murdered.”

“And? Who is he? What makes you think he’s the same guy Nathan saw?”

Reagan paused, thought about the promise she made to Evan. “I can’t tell you that right now.”

“You can’t tell me?”

“If I could, I would. I’m not trying to keep anything from you.”

“If you weren’t, you would have told me about the connection between Alex and Isla.”

It looked like she wasn’t the only one who had been snooping. Except if he had pried into Alex’s criminal background, Isla wouldn’t have been in it. Not if what Evan said was true. Isla never pressed charges. There was no police report. Nothing to link the two together.

“How do you know Alex McMasters knew Isla?” Reagan asked.

“How else? Your brother told me.”

“It was a private matter. He wasn’t supposed to say anything.”

“She’s not around anymore, Reagan. There’s no privacy to protect. Your brother told me because he knew you wouldn’t leave it alone. And he was right.”

“I didn’t get much out of him, so it doesn’t matter. The girl Alex is with told me he was working the night Isla was killed. I called there, verified it with his manager.”

“That’s not your job. You need to stay away from this.”

“Why?” she asked. “So you can ignore the fact that you have a witness who saw him in Evan’s room? So you can pin everything on Evan?”

“If this Alex guy is guilty, we’ll arrest him. And if Evan’s innocent, he has nothing to worry about.”

“Have you released him yet?”

Dustin remained quiet.  

“Didn’t think so,” Reagan added. “You’re blocking my car. I just stopped home to grab something. I’m headed back out.”

“Where? Who are you going after now?”

“No one.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care. Are you going to let me out of the driveway or not?”

Disgusted, he slid back into the truck and rolled out of the driveway before speeding down the street. Reagan waited until he was gone and then entered the house. In truth, she’d decided to retire for the night and pick things back up in the morning. The last thing she needed was Dustin hanging around.

On the day both bodies were discovered, Reagan had spotted police officers examining a silver Jetta parked in a lot across from the hotel. Marking stands were placed inside the car in various areas. Pictures were taken. Among them, a photo of a brown bumper sticker affixed to the right side of the back bumper. On the sticker was a whimsical white graphic of a cup of coffee with swirled lines coming out the top to depict steam. Next to that it said:  

Rise & Grind & Drink Coffee

The Piping Bean

St. George, Utah

The Piping Bean was a newer, independently owned establishment around forty-five miles from Reagan’s home in Cedar City. Nonetheless, the location had one strike against it. It was ill-placed, nestled on a less-traveled side street one block away from a main throughway with a bright, beaming Starbucks on the corner.

The coffee house looked deserted when Reagan entered, the golden bells jangling against the glass door as she stepped inside. Including herself, Reagan counted five customers. A couple sat together at a bistro table to the right. A teenaged girl huddled in the corner devouring every printed word inside the pages of an Ellen Hopkins book. And a female barista was bent over the counter engaged in a coquettish conversation with a short, stocky boy, who was quite possibly the star of his college wrestling team. The girl smiled, fussed with the collar on the boy’s jacket. The boy frowned, his body stiff, demeanor sullen and morose.

Reagan approached the counter. The boy didn’t make eye contact but sensed she was there and slid to the side. The barista acted unfettered by the interruption, even though she was. She slid the boy’s drink forward, her fingers brushing across his. He took the cup and turned, allowing Reagan the opportunity to catch a glimpse of his reddened face before he made his way to one of the vacant tables.

“Can I help you?” the girl asked.

Her words were directed at Reagan, but her concentration remained on the boy.

“I’d like a chai tea latte.”  

The girl waved her hand above her head. “We don’t serve that here. Only coffee.”

Reagan scanned the black chalkboard menu then the glass case in front of her.

“I’ll take a piece of this lemon bread,” Reagan said.  

“Will there be anything else?”

“I was wondering if you knew someone—Dakota Jaynes.”

“She worked here,” the girl said.

“Did Dakota ever mention anyone named—”

“Why you asking about her?”

The question came from someone other than the barista.

Reagan turned.

“You’re the second person to ask about Dakota today,” the boy said. “Police were in here earlier.”

Reagan paid for her order, sat down next to the boy. “My name’s Reagan. What’s yours?”

“Garrett.”

“Do you know Dakota Jaynes?” 

He nodded.

“She is my …
was
my girlfriend.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just weird, you know?”

“Were you together long?”

“Couple months. Did you know her?”

“I didn’t. Do you know about the other girl who was found?”

“Never met her. Saw it on the news though.”

“The other woman that died, the one you saw on the news, she was my sister-in-law.”

“Guess I should be saying sorry to you then too, huh?”

“Do you have any idea why your girlfriend attended Isla’s wedding?”

He shook his head.

“We were supposed to meet up that night. When I talked to her, she said she had some errands to run. We were going to get together later, see
Guardians of the Galaxy
. I waited for her at my apartment, but she never showed. I called her. She said she was running late, asked if we could catch the late movie instead.”

“What time did you call her?”

Garrett reached inside his jacket pocket, pressed a few buttons on his phone. “Six forty-seven.”

Before
the wedding reception.

“Did you call her a second time?”

“Yeah, right after nine. Went straight to voicemail. I figured she was mad or somethin’.”

“Why?”

“When I talked to her before, she kept trying to get off the phone. She sounded mad. I thought I’d done something to piss her off. I don’t know. Things weren’t going great between us lately.”

“Did the two of you live together?”

“She had her own place, but she didn’t get along with her roommates, so she was with me most of the time.”

“Did she keep her stuff at your house too?”

He shrugged.

“I had an extra dresser I wasn’t using. She kept a lot of her things in there.”

“Have the police talked to you yet?”

He shook his head.

“When they were in here before, asking questions, I didn’t say anything. Didn’t seem like they knew who I was, and I didn’t feel like talking to them. When you came in, I assumed you were some kind of cop too. Figured they’d find me sooner or later, so I spoke up.”

“I’m related to Isla, but I’m also a medical examiner. Do you know what that is?”

“You cut up dead people. Check them out.”

Not the best description she’d ever heard, but he had the general idea.

“I’m trying to find out what happened to my sister-in-law, and Dakota. You might be able to help.”

“How?”

“I was hoping you’d let me take a look at your place. The cops have been all over Dakota’s by now, but I’d be grateful if you’d let me look at yours before they get to it.”

He breathed out a long, exhausted sigh. “I … I don’t know.”

“It will only take a few minutes. And you’d be there with me. I wouldn’t do anything without your permission first.”

Another sigh, and then, “I guess. Don’t know what you expect to find.”

She didn’t either.

But without any other solid leads, it was worth a shot.  

“Reagan?”

There was no inflection in the caller’s voice, making it easy for Reagan to identify him. “Brand?”

“Yeah. My brother gave me your number, said I should call you.”

“Have you seen him?”

“This morning.”

“How’s he holding up?” Reagan asked.

“I dunno. Okay, I guess. He wants to know if you heard anything on Isla’s autopsy.”

“Your parents will probably hear something before I will. I called this morning. The results haven’t come back yet. In a situation like this, the preliminary report might be finished today, but the final report could take a month or longer.”

“A month? Why?”

“Depends on the tests they perform. Since your sister died under mysterious circumstances, a forensic autopsy will be done.”

“Guess you won’t be able to do a second autopsy right away then, huh?”

“I will as soon as the first one is finished. I don’t have to wait for the results before I can take a look at her, but I will need someone to sign off, allowing me access to her body. As her husband, Nathan should have the authority to make that happen.”

There was a pause. A long pause.

“Brand, you still there?”

“Uh … yeah. I’m here. It’s just … I don’t know what to do.”

“About what?”

“My brother. He didn’t do it. He didn’t kill that girl they found in his room. He doesn’t deserve to go to prison for her.”

“I’m working on it right now, okay?”

“Working on what?”

“Trying to find the connection between Isla and Dakota Jaynes. There has to be one. Once I find that, I’ll find the killer.”

“Do you think you—”

Brand continued to speak, but Reagan was no longer listening. She’d arrived at Garrett’s apartment, and he was standing at the front door, waving her over. In this moment, only one thing was on her mind—finding the right clue once she got inside.

Garrett’s apartment was tiny, cluttered, and shared with a large, white rat in a cage. Caged or not, Reagan envisioned the rodent breaking free, scrambling in her direction. Just the thought of it gave her a creepy, crawly feeling.

“Like I said before,” Garrett started. “I don’t know what you think you’ll find, but go ahead and look around.”

“I’d like to look inside the dresser.”

Garrett pointed down a short hall. “First door on the left.”

Reagan slid a hand inside her pocket, pulled out a pair of plastic gloves, smoothed them over her skin. Garrett raised a brow but said nothing.

The top drawer of the dresser contained a few bras, various pairs of bikini-style panties, socks. Reagan closed the drawer and opened another. More clothes. T-shirts and jeans on the left, a couple notebooks on the right. Two pens. Reagan removed the notebooks, flipped through them. Aside from one filled with calculus notes, it was nothing but pages and pages of empty, unpenned lines. In the third and last drawer, Reagan found flip-flops. Five pairs in a multitude of colors. Next to them a couple pairs of dress shoes.  

“Like I said, nothing real exciting, right?” Garrett said.

“Did she keep anything else here?”

“In the bathroom. Just makeup and other stuff. It’s in a box under the sink.”

The box under the sink was made of flimsy cardboard. The flaps around all four sides were jagged, having been cut with scissors. Reagan picked out several cans of hair product, two brushes and a comb, and then a large makeup bag. She rummaged through the bag, loose eye shadow dusting pastel powder on her gloves as she dug around.

At the bottom of the bag, Reagan found one thing that didn’t fit in with the other items. A knob. She pulled it out, pressing it onto the center of her hand. The knob was black, about the size of a Rolo candy, with tiny red numbers ranging from one to ten. She held it up to Garrett. “This is an odd thing to keep inside a makeup bag. You ever seen it before?”

He leaned over, inspected the item in question. “Looks like it goes to a car stereo.”   

The words “car stereo” seemed to be uttered in slow motion, the gravity of the words piercing Reagan’s skin like a frozen ice pick. Her limbs went numb, and for a moment she felt paralyzed.  

“Hey, you okay?” Garrett asked.

“I … I need to leave. You mind if I take this?”

He seemed confused, and she wasn’t about to offer an explanation.

“I know where this knob came from,” Reagan said. “And it doesn’t belong to Dakota. It belongs to someone else. If you want to know what happened to your girlfriend, you need to trust me.”

“I need you to come with me,” Reagan said.  

Dustin looked up from his desk. “Sorry?”

“I said, I need you to come with me. Now.”

“I heard you the first time. Where are we going?”

Reagan looked around, noticed the growing number of eyes fixed on the current events going on inside Dustin’s office.

Curious.

Nosy.

Imposing.

She felt as though she might vomit, right there on the office floor.

“I’ll tell you where we’re going when we get there,” she said.  

“You’ll tell me now.”

“I can’t, Dustin.”

“What can you tell me? Because lately, it doesn’t seem to be anything.”

Reagan spread both hands, pressing them on top of the mahogany desk as she leaned closer, trying to keep her knees from buckling beneath her. “I just can’t okay? I need you to get up, I need you to come with me, and I need you not to make a big deal about it when we walk out of here. I know you’re still angry with me over the breakup. But please, just this once, I need you to look past all that now. I’m trying to do the right thing here. This isn’t easy for me.”  

Dustin started to speak then stopped. “You’re trembling.”

“I’m … I know. I can’t help it.”

“Reagan, please. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I will. I promise. Just not yet.”

“Are you in some kind of trouble?”

Before she could answer, Chief Hall stepped into the room. “Davenport, what are you doing here? If you’re looking for information, you won’t get it. I don’t care what your previous or current relationship is to Waterhouse.”

“She didn’t come here for information,” Dustin said.

“Why’s she here then?”

“It’s a private matter, sir.”

The chief squinted, looked at Dustin like he was trying to decide whether to press the issue or not. Dustin didn’t give him the chance.

“I’m well aware I can’t share any information with her, and I won’t. If I do, you can fire me, but right now we need a moment.”   

The chief took his time exiting Dustin’s office. When he did, he issued a warning. “You can have your
moment
. Just don’t forget what’ll happen if you squeal.”

Dustin stood, grabbed his keys, tilted his head toward the parking lot. “Come on. Let’s go before he comes back here.”