Siggy woke her up early with a paw to the face. Hannah pulled the cat close and kissed the top of his head, his fur tickling her lips. “I see you, boy.”
He squirmed in her arms and jumped from the bed; mission accomplished. Hannah snagged her phone from the charger and scrolled through her texts. She tapped on the one from Maggie, asking her if she’d heard about the Boyd murder.
News traveled fast in a small town, and the island functioned just like a small town—one surrounded by water, with ferries, plenty of gossip, old families, newbies—and now murder.
She texted Maggie back, letting her know she knew about the murder and inquiring about Sheldon. She watched for a few minutes for a response, and then rolled out of bed. If she didn’t get up now, Siggy would be back with a second attempt.
She had to secure a set of wheels for the day, with two patients to see this morning and an afternoon meeting with Sheldon, if Maggie approved. She hoped to get Sheldon here at her office where she had a kids’ room, fully stocked with toys and art supplies all designed to make children feel comfortable and safe.
When her mother announced she was done with the island and the house, Hannah had moved in and taken over, which included converting a small guesthouse on the property into an office. She saw most of her patients steps from her home.
That meant her patients knew where she lived, which could pose problems, but she hadn’t had a serious issue yet. Especially as she treated mostly children, though she wouldn’t have enough business on the island if she saw only children, so she did accept adults.
She’d flirted briefly with the idea of working with the prison population and had done some internship work at a women’s penitentiary, but it had proved to be too painful. And after all that, Jed hadn’t even tried to find out why she hadn’t written to him. If it bothered him so much, he should’ve reached out to her.
Cupping her mug of steaming coffee, she stared out the kitchen window to the forest view. What had happened to all her letters?
Her gaze shifted to the pantry. Sheldon’s runaway attempt had interrupted her thorough review of that box, but she had every intention of returning to the task in the hopes of unearthing information and maybe more boxes. She could just about believe her father had sabotaged her correspondence to Jed, but to set him up? Could he have been that evil?
She slurped some hot coffee as Siggy wrapped around her ankles. There was no shortage of evil on the island. No shortage of secrets, either. She’d had no idea Stephanie Boyd was related to Michael.
When her phone rang, she snatched it from the counter. “Hey, Maggie.”
Maggie dispensed with the small talk again. “Can you believe there’s been another murder? What the hell is going on?”
“Have you heard any more details?” Hannah nudged Siggy with her foot to shuffle to the breakfast nook. “The news I got last night was bare bones. I know she had a daughter.”
“Yeah, get ready. Law enforcement wants us involved again.”
Hannah sank to a chair, clutching her mug. “Did the child witness anything?”
“They don’t know yet, but this Seattle cop wants you to talk to Stephanie Boyd’s daughter.” Maggie swore. “And I’ve got another one in the system.”
Hannah said, “I understand Stephanie has a half brother. Any other relatives who can take the daughter?”
“Mother somewhere, but she’s unavailable at the moment.”
“Unavailable?” Hannah took another sip of coffee. “Unless she’s locked up, what would keep a grandmother from her granddaughter after her own daughter had been murdered?”
“I don’t have the details yet. The uncle is out of the country for work.” Maggie took a deep breath. “What’s your opinion? Do you think they’re linked?”
“Both Zoey and Stephanie had drug problems. Maybe they pissed off the wrong person.”
“Could be, but both single moms? Is that just a coincidence?”
Hannah chewed on her bottom lip, thinking about Astrid Mitchell and her son. “I think it’s more telling that they were both heavy into the drug culture.”
“You’re probably right.”
“How’s Sheldon this morning?”
“He’s okay. Slept late. Pancakes for breakfast. Still wants to go back to the house, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. Do you think you can get the keys from the sheriff’s department and swing by Zoey’s place to get this toy?”
Hannah ran a fingertip along the rim of her cup. “Do you believe there’s a treasured toy he forgot?”
“Not really, but we’ll make the effort. He says it’s a set of magnetic train cars.”
“I’ll do it. Am I still on to see him this afternoon?”
“Ah, I was going to tell you. Will tomorrow work? He has a doctor’s appointment later today. The doc squeezed him in.”
“Tomorrow is fine. Better. I need to get my car today.”
Maggie cleared her throat. “How’s your...friend?”
“Jed?” Siggy had flopped at her feet and was now licking Hannah’s toes in a new ploy for food. “He’s all right. Felt bad about Sheldon’s accusation but wasn’t surprised Zoey had been bad-talking him to her son. Zoey was unhinged.”
“He’s lucky he had an alibi...and for this one.”
A flare of anger leapt in Hannah’s chest, and she pressed one palm against the table. “I guess people are quick to point the finger at the ex-con, but Jed never belonged in prison in the first place.”
“Yeah, I heard the story. Read about his story before I even came to the island. Bad break. Look, I gotta go. Just wanted to give you a heads-up about Stephanie’s daughter.”
“What’s her name?”
“Chrissy.”
“Thanks, Maggie.”
When Hannah ended the call, she made another to Jimmy at the auto shop. He assured her he’d deliver her car this afternoon and send a tow to the Mitchells’ place to get her old truck.
Feeling back in business, she fed Siggy and made some breakfast for herself. As she spooned her oatmeal into her mouth, she flipped open her laptop and clicked on articles about Stephanie’s murder.
It didn’t take her long to work her way through most of the information, as the cops were being tight-lipped about the case. No cause of death. No clues. No motive. The only thing she got out of the online articles was that the body was discovered outside...just like Zoey’s.
The cops wouldn’t make any connections between the two cases publicly, but the true crime chat rooms and murder blogs weren’t holding back. Speculation was always easy.
When she glanced at the time, she scooted back her chair, startling Siggy, who flicked his tail at her while giving her a dirty look.
Although her session with Sheldon had been canceled for the day, she had other clients to see.
She’d been concerned she wouldn’t be able to concentrate during the sessions with everything else going on, but as always, her patients’ lives sucked her in, and she managed to be present for both of them.
When her last patient left, Hannah changed clothes and decided to tackle the attic again. She’d rescued the one box that contained Jed’s case, but she’d seen a few others of interest up there. She may have been able to put her own issues on hold, but that didn’t mean she’d forgotten about them.
She tugged on the rope for the attic door, a proper flashlight clutched in her other hand this time. Siggy scrambled from wherever he was napping and joined her at the foot of the ladder.
Crouching down, she scratched him beneath the chin. “Now I know how to get you to come running.”
She climbed the ladder and flicked on the flashlight as she stepped into the space. She almost tripped over one of the boxes she’d dragged out the night before—the box containing her father’s possessions from the job. This box had been on top of the August box and appeared to be in the same condition as the other one.
She flipped off the lid and aimed the beam of light inside the box. A few plaques on top trapped the papers and folders beneath them. She lifted the plaques and put them on the floor.
She thumbed through the file folders, holding her breath, but if she expected to find anything related to Jed’s case here, she’d walk away disappointed. She shoved the box to the entrance to the attic, anyway. She might as well do a little cleaning while she was up here and get rid of some of this stuff. Mom wouldn’t want it.
She crawled on her hands and knees through the dust to another box sporting her father’s bold handwriting. She lifted one corner of the lid and peered inside, the light from her flashlight skimming over what looked like the contents of an office desk—paperclip holder, sticky notes, random little keys, a few old floppy disks and a thumb drive.
She grabbed a plastic bag crumpled in one corner of the box, shook it out and stuffed the disks, drive and keys into it. Then she secured the lid back onto the box and shoved it next to the other one. She didn’t want to maneuver the heavy boxes down the ladder by herself, so she left them in the attic as she backed out, flashlight in hand, plastic bag dangling from her wrist. She could retrieve them later.
She stopped halfway down and called Siggy. He gave her a muffled mew and she took one step back up to peer into the attic, spotting his golden eyes gleaming in the darkness.
“You don’t want to be trapped in there. Trust me.” She tried calling “kitty, kitty” but Siggy had bigger fish to fry up there.
She dropped the bag on the kitchen table, washed her hands at the sink and then cracked open the tab on a can of cat food. That had Siggy purring at her ankles within seconds.
She scooped a spoonful of food into his bowl and secured the attic while he gobbled his grub.
Hannah toyed with one of the floppy disks at the table, wondering how she could view the contents. There had to be places that converted data from a floppy to a digital file. She didn’t exactly know what she expected to find among her father’s old stuff, but Jed’s accusation had struck some chord with her—not that she’d admit that to him yet.
She checked her phone, but nobody was coughing up any more details about Stephanie’s murder. As she had to drop by the station to pick up the keys to Zoey’s place, she’d snoop around to see what she could find out about this new murder.
She showered, scrubbing the dust and grime from the attic off her body, and dressed down in jeans and a T-shirt. Although summer was still on the books, fall hovered on the edges, making its presence known when the sun set, so she grabbed a sweater and stuffed it into her oversize bag. She planned to pick up Sheldon’s toy, but you never knew what you might find at a murder scene.
When she reached the sheriff’s station, she landed in the middle of a hub of activity. Seattle PD had moved in with a vengeance and had claimed one of the conference rooms in the small station. It didn’t look like too many Dead Falls deputies were welcome in that room. This already had all the earmarks of a circus.
She leaned over the front desk and snapped her fingers to get the desk sergeant’s attention. “Hey, I’m here for the keys to Zoey Grady’s house.”
That got her noticed. His head jerked up, and he dropped the paper he’d been studying. “What’s that? The Grady house?”
“I’m Dr. Hannah Maddox.” She held a PhD, not an MD, and rarely used the doctor in front of her name, but sometimes it opened doors. “I’m treating Sheldon Grady, and he needs something from the house.”
“Oh, right, right.” The sergeant repeated her gesture and snapped at a passing patrol woman, getting a withering look in return. “Amanda, can you please get Dr. Maddox the keys to the Grady place?”
“Of course, Sarge.” Amanda winked at Hannah and disappeared in the back, where the noise level had seemed to increase during the few minutes Hannah had been standing there.
Hannah backed away from the front desk and claimed a chair in the corner, sinking into its cushions. She buried her face in her phone and didn’t make a move when Amanda returned, Zoey’s key chain dangling from her fingers.
Amanda came out from the front desk area and jingled the keys a little to get Hannah’s attention, even though the officer already had it.
Hannah slowly raised her eyes from her phone, her fingers still typing gibberish to no one. “Oh, thanks. Can you sit for a few seconds? I’m communicating with the social worker.”
Amanda perched on the edge of the chair next to her. “Poor kid...and this one, too.”
Hannah finally stopped typing and stuffed the phone into her purse. “I know. It’s tragic for these kids. I haven’t heard much about the Boyd case but if I’m going to be working with little Chrissy, I’m assuming she’s a witness.”
Amanda’s eyes widened and she threw a glance at the sergeant, still preoccupied with his paperwork. “I’m not sure about that, but the Seattle gang is looking at the same killer for both. Same type of knife used in both murders. Both women dragged or chased from their homes and killed outside.”
Hannah nodded, her heart thumping. “That’s what I heard. To get the women outside, maybe the killer threatened to harm the kids. He probably wanted to kill them outside to avoid waking up the kids.”
“But we still don’t know if the kids did wake up. That’s what you’re going to find out, right?”
The sergeant called from the front desk. “Officer Robard, the Seattle crew needs some file.”
Amanda muttered under her breath. “I’ve just about had it with the Seattle crew, and they haven’t even been here two full days yet.”
“If they have you fetching and serving, that’s a good thing. You can get in and out of their war room and pick up some information.”
“Not a bad plan.” Amanda dropped the keys into Hannah’s outstretched hand. “Good luck with those kids.”
Hannah thanked her and left the station in her newly-serviced car. When she arrived at Zoey’s trailer, the yellow crime scene tape hadn’t budged. The investigators might just pay this house another visit to compare notes with Stephanie’s place. But right now, Hannah had the place to herself.
She avoided the swing set, bloodstained rock and the dead bird and headed straight for the front door. The key from the key chain slid into the lock on the door handle and fit the dead bolt above it. Didn’t look like any forced entry from this side. Had Zoey known her killer? Could’ve been her dealer—the same dealer Stephanie used. Could’ve been her ex, Chase.
Holding her breath, Hannah stepped over the threshold of the small house. When she had known Zoey, she’d lived in this same place with her parents, but her parents had kept a nicer home. As far as Hannah knew, Zoey’s parents had turned this place over to Zoey and left the island. Hannah didn’t know how Zoey had wound up in so much trouble, but she’d changed even before the birth of Sheldon, when Hannah had been away at college.
Trash, food containers, bottles, ashtrays and general disorder overwhelmed the small space of the living room—and all this occurred before the cops did their thing after the murder. Zoey’s mother would have a heart attack if she could see her neat home now. Black fingerprint dust marked the door and windows, and the cops had tossed cushions and cut sections from the dirty carpet.
How had her friend from high school gotten to this point? Hannah remembered a girl interested in science, thinking about nursing school or even med school. Sitting on the arm of the threadbare couch, she leaned forward and stirred the contents of an ashtray with her fingertip.
The dregs of a few joints disintegrated beneath her touch, and she dragged her black-tipped finger across an unused napkin from the pizza place lodged in a corner of a cushion. Drugs. That’s how Zoey had gotten here. Was that what led to her murder?
She pushed up from the couch and headed toward the two bedrooms in the back of the house. She stumbled on more chaos but couldn’t tell if the police or Zoey herself had caused it.
When she stepped into Sheldon’s room, tears pricked the backs of her eyes. Why didn’t Child Protective Services get involved here before Zoey’s death? No child deserved to live like this. Where were Zoey’s parents?
She plucked at the filthy sheets of the unmade bed and peered through the cracked window at the swing set. If Sheldon had been awake during his mother’s murder and had been looking out this window, he would’ve seen it.
She turned her back on the scene and scanned the floor for the toy Sheldon had requested: a wooden train set, the cars connecting to each other with little magnets. She spotted one car on the chest of drawers, another on its side under the bed and the third in a cardboard box that functioned as a makeshift toy chest.
Hardly how a child would store a prized possession he couldn’t live without, which confirmed her suspicion that he’d used it as an excuse to return to this dilapidated place—the only home he knew.
She sniffed and dropped the train cars in her bag as she picked her way across the floor. She’d already spent too much time in this house and stepping outside into the dusk gave her a chill.
She pulled the door closed and locked it. Pocketing the key chain, she strode to her car, her gaze flicking toward the swing set once. Behind the wheel of her car, she let out a long breath. Crime scenes definitely had a creep factor, especially with the yellow caution tape getting more bedraggled by the day.
On her way back to the station, she realized she’d be passing by another crime scene. Someone discovered Stephanie Boyd’s body last night, so the investigators should be done with the site by now, but they’d leave the crime scene tape there until they were done processing. If they figured they had more forensics to collect, they’d be back.
However it still didn’t prevent her from rubbernecking like half of the other residents of this island. She stepped on it and made the turn to Stephanie’s property.
This well-ordered subdivision hardly looked like the scene of a drug murder, but that was the insidiousness of addiction—it struck across all socioeconomic classes.
She’d vaguely remembered the Ramsey family living in this middle-class enclave. Stephanie’s half brother must’ve allowed her to stay in his father’s home. Hannah had no idea whether Michael’s father was still alive.
She parked on the side of the house, out of sight of the other residences as Stephanie’s place hugged the edge of the community. She glanced at the forest to her right as she exited the car.
The trailer park where Zoey’s house occupied had been more isolated than this development, but the forest hovered outside her doorway, too. Was location and convenience driving this killer?
She clicked her door and crept around to the front of house, still crisscrossed by yellow crime scene tape. A uniformed deputy lounged on the front porch, checking his phone, and she recognized Deputy Hill from the hospital when she’d questioned Sheldon. The investigators must think they still had evidence to process. Maybe they were still inside.
The neighbors and curiosity hounds had moved on—for now. Darkness had settled on the subdivision, bringing with it a cool mist, a sure sign that summer was waning.
Hill wouldn’t let her inside, but she might be able to wrestle a few nuggets of info from him. She squared her shoulders and marched up to the house.
“Hi, Deputy Hill.”
His gaze shot up from his phone, as he bobbled it. “Oh, hello, Dr....”
“Maddox, but you can call me Hannah.” She gestured toward the front door, firmly closed. “Did the ME take the body?”
He glanced over his shoulder and licked his lips. “A long time ago.”
“Did the investigators gather much evidence from the house?” She shoved one hand in the front pocket of her jeans and toyed with the keys to Zoey’s house.
“Um, they’re still working in there, Dr.—Hannah. It’s the squad from Seattle. They don’t tell me much of anything.”
“I understand. The big boys...and girls move in and muscle out the local PD. Familiar story.” She leaned in and whispered, “I’m going to be working with Stephanie’s daughter, so they must believe there’s a connection between the two murders. Do you know what they have?”
He whipped his head back and forth. “Not a thing. No.”
“Okay, but if you hear anything that’s not public knowledge, maybe you could fill me in. I need all the help I can get if I’m going to help that little girl, and I’m not sure the Seattle PD cares much about that. You know—” she stuck up her index and middle fingers together “—us locals have to stick together.”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Hill reddened to the roots of his fair hair.
She dug one of her business cards from her purse and tucked it into the chest pocket of his khaki uniform shirt and patted it. “I appreciate it.”
Before he could protest, she twirled around on the porch and scurried down the front walkway. She didn’t want Seattle Homicide to find her out here snooping around.
She turned the corner and pressed the key fob to unlock her car. As she grabbed the door handle, dried leaves and twigs from the forest floor crackled behind her.
She spun around, clutching her keys between her fingers like jagged teeth.
Jed held up his hands as he emerged from the trees. “It’s just me.”
She sagged against her car. “You scared me. What are you doing out here?”
“I’m working for Michael Ramsey. He asked me to investigate his sister’s murder.” He put a finger to his lips.
Hannah’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. I told you I had my PI license in California, and I did the paperwork when I got to Washington to transfer it here—just in case.”
“Just in case you were going to be skulking around investigating a murder?” She took in his black jeans and T-shirt, noting the way it hugged his chest beneath the open hoodie. He’d obviously engaged in the time-honored tradition of most prison inmates—working out with weights in the yard.
She gritted her teeth against the bile that rose in her throat every time she thought about Jed incarcerated.
“Just in case I needed to pick up some work while I’m waiting for the academy to start.” He shrugged. “But I’m doing this gratis. I owe Michael. I should’ve visited his sister as soon as I got here. Maybe I could’ve prevented her murder.”
“I doubt that.” She scooped back her hair and held it in a ponytail over her shoulder. “How does that work exactly? You march up to Seattle Homicide and tell them you’re working the case?”
He snorted. “It’s not that easy, but I did do a little searching of the grounds before they chased me off. And I found something.”
She widened her eyes as a trill of adrenaline zigzagged up her spine. “What did you find?”
He plunged his hand into the pocket of his hoodie, and a plastic bag crinkled as he pulled it out. He dangled it in front of her.
“I found a dead bird near where Stephanie’s body was discovered.”