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Stacy managed a quick nap and a hot shower. By the time Gavin rang the doorbell to her apartment, Stacy had taped the last sheet of paper to the wall and placed the Chinese food on an end table.
She looked at the sheets of paper on the wall. Timelines had been a tracking technique she’d used since becoming a detective on the Cleveland Police Department Homicide Unit ten years ago. Stacy was a visual person. A timeline gave her a visual representation of how events in an investigation were tied together.
Stacy needed to be sure that everything she knew about the murder of Brooke Crawford and the subsequent disappearance of Colton DeVito, coupled with his parents’ deaths, could be independently verified.
A great deal of information had been collected already. Detective Yates had brought over his report from the Crawford crime scene, but some information was incomplete, and it needed more details added. Stacy knew that part of collecting data in an investigation was organizing it for a meaningful interpretation. Austin liked using excel spreadsheets to look for patterns and trends in an ongoing investigation. He tried, unsuccessfully, to convince Stacy that spreadsheets allowed information updates in real-time. Additional information about evidence, suspects, or methods like the geolocation of cell phones, physical surveillance, or interviews could be added by creating a separate column in the spreadsheet for easy record-keeping and tracking.
Stacy viewed spreadsheets as having to continually add and delete rows, which added confusion if there wasn’t a system to keep track of the information or if only one person understood the system. Reconstructing an incident involving multiple data categories to merge into a single timeline spreadsheet could make the timeline too difficult to process or make it thoroughly confusing. Stacy wanted to avoid both circumstances.
Her method of using sheets of paper, colored markers, and lots of tape allowed her to create a timeline that was practical and logical. This old-fashioned timeline process helped Stacy sort massive amounts of information, filter out irrelevant data, highlight important data, and gather inferences to help reconstruct the incidents.
It helped that Stacy felt refreshed after some oxygen and a change of clothes. She wore gray sweatpants that she had purchased from the Old Navy store at the Galleria downtown and a royal blue sweatshirt that was a little too big, although the extra slack in the arms made her feel more comfortable and relaxed. She’d let her hair hang below her ears as the split ends grazed against her jaw.
A few minutes later, Stacy pulled back the door. Gavin stood in the hallway space and flashed her a relaxed smile, his bright blue eyes piercing beneath dark brows. He wore a light-purple button-down polo shirt with jeans and tan shoes. Stacy could make out the muscles protruding from the area below his chest, and the muscles in his legs bulged against the fabric in the jeans. His hair moussed and combed to the side revealed some freckles that dappled the base of his hairline.
He was extraordinarily handsome and smart and at least ten years younger. But Gavin was a part of her work unit. The line between friendship and physical attraction was a straight and inflexible one, despite his beliefs on the contrary.
“Hey,” he said in a breezy tone that was much different from the tone of their earlier conversation.
“Hey, you,” she said. “Come on in.”
Stacy stepped back as Gavin slowly entered the room. He took a moment to regard the entire space of the loft apartment, then his eyes darted to the sheets of paper Stacy had taped to the far wall near the galley kitchen.
“I was going to ask what’s been good on Netflix lately, but I see that’s not on the menu for discussion tonight.”
Stacy grinned at his corny attempt at humor. The sweet and savory smell of chicken and beef wafted through the space between them, making Stacy’s stomach growl. She was starving.
“I appreciate you coming over, especially late in the evening like this.”
Gavin turned to face her, a glint in his eyes. “Anytime. I’d do anything to help you.”
A silence pooled between them. Stacy blanched while Gavin’s face turned a shade of red.
He finally held up a hand. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right.”
“It’s fine,” Stacy said.
“I’m surprised Austin isn’t here helping with this.”
Stacy looked down at her feet, avoiding eye contact. “He’s working another angle to the case.”
Gavin nodded slowly. “Anything I can help with?”
“Not now, but if so, I’ll let you know.”
Stacy looked up at Gavin, staring at his physique. She felt her hands getting clammy.
She thought back to how Gavin had stayed with her after her collapse at police headquarters. He didn’t say too much, but his presence was comforting and made Stacy feel safe and loved. It had been a long time since any man had done something nice like that for her without expecting something in return. The thought made her body tingle, and her heart beat faster.
Gavin caught her staring at him, which made Stacy look away.
She motioned toward the bagged food. “Dinner is ready.”
Gavin walked over to the table and began tearing the top ends of the bag. She noticed a twitch in his mouth that was usually a sign of worry.
“What’s wrong, Gavin?”
He froze for a moment, then resumed removing the food from the bag. “Nothing. Tough day in court.”
“I can tell,” Stacy said, crossing her arms. “On the phone earlier, I could sense some strain.”
Gavin stacked the sesame chicken and General Tso’s chicken containers on the end of the table and set napkins down on each carton.
“The judge denied Brandon Deerfield bail today.”
“That’s excellent.”
“Yeah,” Gavin scoffed in response. “But his attorneys are trying the case in the press,” he said, nervously fingering the napkins. “Deerfield’s done, and they know it, so their only recourse is to present him as an honest cop who’s being smeared by the police department because he made a mistake.”
Stacy shook her head. “There’s much more to it than that.”
Gavin turned his head to the side and tossed Stacy a quick look. “I know. But the press loves a story where the suspect is in a high position of authority and then uses that authority to turn bad. Then, their questions become why and how bad is bad, really?”
Stacy let that comment hang for a moment. Her attention had shifted to Colton DeVito and his disappearance, and she had ignored thinking about Deerfield sitting in jail awaiting trial and the fact that he was the last person to see her brother Chance before he disappeared. Stacy felt a dull pressure pushing behind her eyes. A headache was slowly building.
“Just read The Plain Dealer tomorrow or watch the local news. I’m sure the case will be the lead story.”
Stacy walked over to Gavin. “The important part of this is that Deerfield gets convicted.”
Gavin looked at her with a perplexed expression. “I thought the most important part of this was finding out where Chance is.”
Stacy pursed her lips and blinked back some tears that had formed in the corners of both eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Gavin said, reaching a hand out to touch her arm. Stacy walked over to the sheets of paper taped to the wall.
“Here’s the timeline I’ve created so far.”
Gavin walked over to the wall, taking a container of sesame chicken. He held it against his chest and shoved a forkful of the meal into his mouth.
“Start me from the beginning,” he said between bites. She noted that a ripple of sauce had slid down his chin. “I know most of it but not all of it.”
Stacy started by reviewing the information she’d obtained from Detective Yates and the Bratenahl Police Department. Nothing from his report contradicted what Stacy and Austin assumed had happened to Brooke Crawford the night she was murdered. What astonished Stacy was that there was no physical evidence or DNA left at the crime scene. Detective Yates had ordered fingerprint evidence to be collected at the scene, especially in Brooke’s room, where her body had been discovered. There were many fingerprints collected, but none that triggered any alarms.
He interviewed several of the neighbors in the area. They all remarked that Brooke was a nice girl but lived a quiet life. Several of the neighbors told Detective Yates that they never saw Brooke have many visitors, except for her mother, Virginia.
Gavin waved a fork at the phrase: She’s all Yours. Fuck You!
“What’s that?”
“It was found inscribed on the back of Brooke’s gray sweatshirt.” Stacy swallowed hard and looked at Gavin. “Written in her blood.”
Gavin stopped eating. “Holy shit.”
“But, so far, no idea why the killer would write that.”
Gavin gave a thoughtful nod. “Based on what I know about the case, if Colton DeVito still loved Brooke, why would he kill her and then write that message?”
Stacy shrugged.
Gavin walked to one sheet of paper taped to the wall with a bright pink Post-it Note flapping away loosely. After a moment, he said, “But the note here says that Brooke had texted Virginia Crawford, stating that she was uncomfortable with Colton just randomly coming by to see her.”
Stacy could hear Gavin chew a little more slowly before swallowing. The smell of ginger coming from the chicken made her mouth water.
“That can’t be discounted, Stacy. Still makes him someone that Brooke felt threatened by.”
Stacy bounded over to Gavin. She pointed to another large sheet of paper to the right of where he was standing. “But did she feel threatened by him or by what he knew about her?”
Gavin arched an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”
“When I talked to Monica DeVito at Starbucks, she told me that Colton thought he was the father of Brooke’s baby until she admitted that maybe it was Jesse Williams. I don’t know if Brooke ever ordered a DNA test to find out if Colton or Jesse was the father, so maybe Colton thought there was a chance that he might be the father.”
Gavin let in a long breath and exhaled. “Okay, so why kill her? If he thinks he’s the father and wants a DNA test to prove paternity, he needs her cooperation, especially if he wants to take her to court to order a DNA test.”
“I don’t know.” Stacy turned to face Gavin, leaning a hand against the wall. He shot her a quick look, then turned back to stare at the pages.
“But your contact in the Harris County DA’s office said that Colton and Jesse Williams both worked for American Electric Power in Houston after Hurricane Harvey. They were friends, right?”
“Yup,” Gavin said, stuffing another forkful of sesame chicken into his mouth. "From what I was told, Colton had moved to Houston after graduating high school and hanging around Cleveland for a year. He and Jesse Williams kept in touch, and eventually, Jesse moved from Cleveland to Houston. They had both been in Houston together less than a year before Jesse was killed.”
“I wonder how that friendship worked, particularly if Colton knew that Jesse got Brooke pregnant.”
“And we’ll never know if Colton knew because Jesse Williams is dead.”
Stacy let out her own long sigh. “Virginia Crawford didn’t seem to know who the father of her grandson might be. She indicated that she didn’t like Jesse or Colton. It’s likely that Brooke was seeing both of them at the same time.”
Stacy then asked, “So how did Colton get charged with that murder and then get released? How does that happen to someone accused of first-degree murder?”
Gavin gave a wry smile. “Now I know the reason you invited me over.” Before Stacy could say anything, Gavin gave a dismissive wave. “I’m kidding. When I talked to another friend, who was a Harris County ADA at the time, he told me that Colton DeVito had several circumstances go right in getting his conviction overturned.”
Stacy arched an eyebrow. “His conviction was overturned?”
Gavin spun on a heel and leaned back into an open space on the wall. He set his food carton down on the table and folded his arms. The rush of air around his movements jostled some of the taped pages.
"First, there was a problem with the jury. One of the jury members admitted to taking a bribe from a rich friend of Jesse Williams. A family member of another juror watched the guy take the bribe in the hallway outside of the courtroom."
Stacy let out a slow moan.
“He served less than a year. Before that, Colton DeVito and Jesse Williams started doing some hard drugs when they weren’t working for AEP.”
Stacy was intrigued, and her interest piqued. “What kind of hard drugs?
“Crystal Meth. Cocaine.”
Stacy nodded. “Ah, the good stuff.”
“Right.” He reached for the food carton again. “After Jesse burned through his extra money, he started hounding Colton for money. Soon, Colton was funding both of their drug habits.”