While I was driving to work, I thought about that plant and its lack of a card. Mills said it was an oleander—beautiful but very toxic. I had no intentions of nibbling the leaves, but I had to admit, I wasn’t the greatest at identifying anything other than green grass and maple and oak trees. A horticulturist, I wasn’t. Mills also said those plants couldn’t survive our brutal winters, and it made me wonder why somebody chose it when it wasn’t a plant that could be transplanted into our northern soil. I was baffled and couldn’t even call a store or nursery where it was purchased to ask who’d bought it. The plant had no identification whatsoever about where it came from. I would brush off that thought as soon as I got to work. A murder investigation was in full swing, and we needed to put all our energy into that.
Lutz stood at the podium as he did every morning. Conducting roll call came first and then the updates and tasks that were assigned to the detectives and officers that day.
“I have an update from Don. The DNA found under Mrs. Morton’s nails does not match her husband’s DNA, and it isn’t in our system. Forensics ran all the prints and found a set that didn’t belong to any family members and they aren’t in the database. So as of now, our perp is officially unidentified.” He pointed at Mills and me. “I want you to talk to everyone that knew Tina Morton again. I know Patrol conducted knock and talks in the area, but a second interview from detectives is in order. Murray and Adams, talk to the husband’s acquaintances and family members again. We need to establish a twenty-four-hour timeline of family and friends for the husband and wife prior to the 911 call made by Devon Morton. Henry and Shawn, I want warrants for the entire family’s bank records, and go through everything with a fine-toothed comb. We need to know about life insurance policies on her, and her will too. Pull warrants for everything.”
“Yes, sir,” Henry said.
Lutz slapped his hands together. “Okay, let’s make this a productive day.”
“Boss?”
Lutz turned to me. “Jesse, what’s on your mind?”
“Any word from the FBI about Vance?”
“Nope, but that information wouldn’t filter down to me, anyway. The FBI may or may not keep MCC in the loop, but then it would be up to MCC if they wanted to pass on information to us. Is there a new concern?”
“No.” I lied. “Just curious.”
Lutz closed the folder in front of him and headed for the door. “Then it’s time to hit the streets.”
All of the detectives followed the commander out of the roll call room. Lutz turned left at the end of the hallway, and we turned right—the direction of the bull pen. We had plenty to fill our day, and my own concerns would have to wait until I was off the clock and back home.
Frank pulled up my guest chair, and we reviewed the transcript of the interview with Hal Morton that the night shift detectives had left for us. Hal admitted that the woman seen with him in the hotel video was a coworker who often went on business trips, sometimes with him and sometimes with other employees. He maintained his innocence and said he had loved Tina deeply and had no idea who would commit such a heinous crime.
“You buying his BS?” Frank asked.
“Not for a second. Intruders don’t stab people more than forty times unless they’ve been instructed to do so, and we don’t even know if it was a burglary until Hal goes through the house to see if anything is missing.”
“But he can say whatever he wants to make it look like a robbery gone bad.” Frank stood and put my guest chair back alongside my desk. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll be ready to go.”
I gave him a nod then retreated to my thoughts as I stared blankly at the sheet of paper in front of me. Moments later, I heard his voice.
“Ready to head out, partner?” Frank cocked his head.
I looked up at him. “What?”
He scratched his right eyebrow. “Didn’t you get any sleep last night? You’re completely out to lunch, and it’s barely eight thirty.”
I huffed and rose from my desk. “I’m fine. So?”
“So, I’m ready to leave whenever you decide to get the cobwebs out of your head.”
“Oh.” I grabbed my notepad from the top desk drawer, jammed it in my pocket, and nodded toward the door. “Then let’s roll.”
I volunteered to ride shotgun. My mind wasn’t on driving or where we were headed. Mills was much better suited to take the lead that day. He glanced my way as he turned the key in the ignition.
“What’s your deal, anyway? Is that plant from last night still bugging you?”
“I’m curious about it, that’s all.”
Frank was good at calling me out when he sensed something was wrong. He had an uncanny ability to read my expressions, so I turned my head and looked out the passenger window.
We arrived at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Hal Morton at nine fifteen. Wrapped in police tape, the house stood empty and was currently off limits to the family. Hal was staying with his kids and sister at her house and was told not to leave town. We had a murder investigation to conduct, and if Hal was found to be the likely suspect, his new address for the foreseeable future would be the county lockup.
Mills parked in the driveway, and we stepped out of the cruiser. I looked up and down the well-groomed residential street and found it hard to believe a murder had been committed in such a safe-looking neighborhood.
“Where do you want to start?” I asked.
Frank shrugged. “Makes no difference to me. How about right there?” He pointed at the house directly to our right, where a red car sat in the driveway. “At least somebody is home. We’ll hit each house on this side for the rest of the block and then cross the street, talk to those people, and end up back here.”
“Good enough.” We walked up the neighbor’s sidewalk, then I rang the bell. I heard barking from what sounded like an ankle-biter. “Damn small dogs are worse than the big ones.”
Frank grinned. “They have to compensate for their lack of body mass somehow.”
A woman who appeared to be in her early forties answered the door with a squirming white mop of a dog in her arms. “May I help you?”
I took the lead as we showed our badges. “Homicide Detectives Mills and McCord here, ma’am. We have a few questions to ask you about Mr. and Mrs. Morton.”
She looked flustered. “I gave my statement to the police yesterday, so why do I have to do it again?”
“We understand, and having officers speak to the neighbors is standard procedure following a crime, but we as detectives have our own questions to ask. It should only take about fifteen minutes of your time.”
“I suppose.” She ushered us in. “I’ll put Cotton in the backyard.”
“Appreciate it, ma’am,” Frank said.
We sat at the kitchen table with the neighbor, who introduced herself as Lauren Biller, and began by asking about her relationship with her neighbors.
“Tina and I were close, but Hal was standoffish, like family life wasn’t all that important to him. Tina said he never attended any after-school activities the kids had. She called him her absentee husband.”
I glanced at Frank. “That’s unfortunate. How about their personal relationship? Did Tina confide in you about that?”
Lauren hung her head and was silent for a moment. “Do you think Hal was behind this?”
“We don’t know, Mrs. Biller. Do you?”
“I’d hate to think it, but Tina did file for divorce several weeks ago. She thought Hal was messing around with a woman from work.”
“Really?” Frank wrote that down. “Did she share that woman’s name with you?”
Lauren shook her head. “I don’t think she was sure who it was. Hal works in marketing for a well-known fashion house, and there are a lot of women at that company. Tina talked about following Hal to see if she could catch them together.”
“What reason did she have to believe he was cheating?”
“I don’t know, the typical reasons, I guess. Buying new suits, being more concerned about his appearance, working late hours, business trips. That sort of thing. She said his shirts even smelled like perfume once in a while.”
“Right. But she never caught him red-handed, so to speak?”
“No, but she did say he’d likely fight the divorce. Tina only worked part-time, so Hal would have to cough up seventy-five percent of his earnings in child support and maintenance, not to mention splitting personal assets and the house when the divorce went through.”
Frank tapped his pen against the notepad. “Sounds like you know how the system works.”
“I do. I divorced my husband two years ago. Guess he got that unavoidable disease.”
I frowned. “Ma’am?”
“You know, the dreaded seven-year itch.”
“Oh, sorry. One more question, Mrs. Biller.”
“Please, just call me Lauren. Nobody calls me Mrs. anymore.”
I nodded. “Lauren, do you remember seeing a car in Tina’s driveway or anyone walking up to the house on Sunday?”
“Sorry, I couldn’t say. I was out grocery shopping and visiting my mom all afternoon.”
“Understood.” We pushed back our chairs, and Frank handed her his card. “Thanks for your time. Please call if you think of anything else that can help the investigation.”
We showed ourselves out and headed in the direction of the next house.
“Hang tight a minute, buddy. I have to get my nicotine gum out of the car.”
I turned back with Mills. “No sweat. I’ll walk with you.”
We passed by Lauren’s house and returned to the Morton driveway.
“What the—” I spun in every direction and didn’t see a soul. Both passenger-side tires had been slashed and sat flat on the rims. I looked at the homes directly across the street. Curtains were drawn and the driveways were empty, meaning the homeowners were likely at work.
“Either we were followed here or somebody in the neighborhood is sending us a message.” Frank rubbed his forehead and stared at the tires. “We aren’t going anywhere on them. Do you think Hal Morton or someone working on his behalf is trying to impede the investigation?”
“Don’t know, Frank, but I do know one thing. Somebody is definitely watching us. I’ve got to call Lutz and tell him what happened.”