I didn’t make it far inside the police station the next morning before Coop said, “Stop right there, little lady. Sheppard’s in a meeting.”
He copped an attitude like he owned the place and everyone in it. I gave him my best eye-roll and knocked on Sheppard’s office door despite what he’d said. Sheppard didn’t acknowledge the knock. It sounded like he was on the phone, and I assumed he hadn’t heard me. I tried again with a bit more force.
Sheppard’s response was immediate. “Oh, for crying out … What don’t you people understand about not pestering me while I’m in a meeting?”
He jerked the door open, glared at me, and then shook his head. “Oh, no. I don’t think so. Whatever you’re here for, Sloane, I don’t have time for it today. Mmm-kay?”
He attempted to push the door closed, but I wedged my boot between the door and jamb, blocking him from doing so. The door smacked against it. I bit my lip and tried to conceal the rush of pain building in my left leg. With Coop looking on, the last thing I wanted was to appear weak.
“You’ll want to make time for me,” I said.
“Can’t. I’m on a conference call.”
“I can wait.”
“I have a busy day today, Sloane.”
“Guess you’re not interested in the potential evidence I found at the lake house, then,” I said. “All right. Fine. See ya.”
I pivoted and walked away.
He poked his head out the office door and said, “Now hang on. Wait a second.”
I ignored him and kept going.
“Sloane, stop, would ya? Get back here and say what you came to say.”
All eyes were on us, interested in what would happen next.
“I didn’t come down here to be treated this way,” I said. “You’re still mad. I get it. You don’t have to brush me off like you just did.”
“Aww hell. Would you just—Look, I’ll end the call I’m on and we can talk. Come back to my office, and I’ll hear you out, all right?”
I channeled my inner five-year-old and flashed Coop a wry grin. He grimaced and retreated inside his office.
After ending his phone call, Sheppard wasted no time. “All right. What’s this evidence you have?”
I grabbed the baggies containing the notes and the ring out of my purse and slid them across the top of his desk. He picked the notes up first, read the first one out loud, and said, “Where did you find these?”
“I found the notes beneath the carpet in Rebecca’s room at the lake house. They’re all similar, with some sentences added or removed. Judy Barlow believes the handwriting is Rebecca’s.”
“And the ring?”
“Also found in Rebecca’s room. I’ve been told it’s worth thirty thousand dollars.”
Sheppard whistled loud enough for the entire office to hear. “These items don’t prove she was murdered, you know.”
“Not yet. We need to find the man she wrote these notes to so we can question him. Maybe he had a wife and kids, and when Rebecca told him she was pregnant, he panicked and killed her. Or maybe he was in a position of power, and he knew she’d never stop pining for him. He couldn’t move on unless she was dead.”
“Or maybe,” Sheppard threw in, “she gave him the note, he rejected her, she couldn’t handle the rejection, so she offed herself.”
And her baby in the process?
It took a higher level of crazy to do something so vile.
I didn’t buy it.
“You don’t have much of an imagination,” I said.
“And you have an overactive one.”
I crossed one leg over the other. “If it gets the case solved, who cares?”
He leaned back in the chair and tugged at his moustache. “We talked to a few of Rebecca’s friends. They said she’d been dating someone, but no one ever mentioned this Bunny character.”
“For whatever reason, I get the impression she kept his identity a secret. She talked about him once to her parents, but she never said his name or told them much about him.”
“I’m aware. They said the same thing to us when we interviewed them.”
“What about Oliver?” I asked. “Did you talk to him?”
“The kid? Yeah, he hasn’t been much help. I blame Judy. She doesn’t like us talking to him for long. She coddles that kid. I mean, I get it—he’s going through a hard time—but she’s too overprotective if you ask me.”
“The notes suggest Oliver knew who Rebecca was dating. And, umm, there’s one more thing.”
He raised a brow. “I’m listening.”
“When I left the lake house, I saw a man staring at me through binoculars. He was too far away for me to identify.”
“Huh. You have your gun on you, right?”
I nodded. “Wherever I go.”
“Just, ehh, make sure you’re aware of your surroundings at all times, okay?” Line one on Sheppard’s phone lit up. He answered it, listened for a moment, and said, “Yeah, yeah. Hold on a second.”
There was still more I hadn’t told him yet, like Jamie claiming he was Oliver’s father, a fact I planned to verify. I decided it could wait. “I won’t take up any more of your time.”
“I’ll, uhh, see if Rebecca’s parents will bring the kid in again, so I can ask him what he knows about this Bunny character.”
I smiled and nodded.
Not if I got to him first.