What can you tell me about the man Skylar was with?” Jason asked, continuing as Griffin dropped off the Mountain Dew, excused himself, and headed for the hotel.
Sebastian opened the soda and took a long swig, then swiped his mouth with the back of his hand before proceeding. “I didn’t see him when he opened the door to let her in the room. I had the wrong angle.”
“So what’d you do?”
“I waited.”
Jason frowned. “You waited?” He shifted in his chair. “You said you followed Skylar there to talk her into modeling for you, and instead of talking with her you just waited?”
“I didn’t know she was meeting anyone until the hotel room door opened and she went in. Then I figured that I’d just wait until she came out and I’d talk to her then.”
Parker laughed, thankful for the glass dividing them. Sebastian was worried the man Skylar was meeting might kick his butt. It was clear as day on his face.
“How long did you wait?” Jason asked.
“Fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes?” Jason clarified.
Sebastian nodded. “Fifteen minutes, max. The dude comes out carrying a bulky garment bag over his shoulder and exits out the side door.”
“You see his face?”
“He had a cap on and the garment bag was in the way. As he turned, I caught a glimpse of his profile, saw the tips of his brown sideburns.”
Jason sat forward. “You said the garment bag was bulky?”
“Yeah, looked like he was balancing a load over his shoulder. The bag looked thick, like something bigger than clothes were in it.”
“What about his height, his weight?”
“Five-ten, maybe. He had a long raincoat on, but if I had to guess I’d say one-seventy.”
“Okay, so then what happened?”
“I knocked on the room door, hoping to talk with Skylar, but she didn’t answer. And then something hit me—told me to follow the dude. I rushed out to the parking lot, spotted him hefting the garment bag into his trunk, so I got in my car and followed him.”
“Your car?” Jason said. “I thought you owned a motorcycle.”
“I do, but I have an old beater I bought for cash a few months ago. Just to have in case I need extra space.”
Jason arched a brow. “Extra space for . . . ?”
“Equipment.”
Uh-huh. Parker shook his head.
“What about the man’s car?” Jason asked. “What kind of car was it?”
“A red Porsche.”
“Seriously?” One of the most standout cars in the most standout color? Either the guy was cocky or just plain stupid. “Any chance you got the license plate?”
“Not then. I was too focused on following him but keeping enough distance.”
“And where did he go?”
“Sparrows Point, down past the abandoned warehouse area that’s mostly been leveled. Out to Wharf Road by a thick copse of trees jutting out into Jones Creek. Nothing around. He parked. I parked a ways back and walked in, watched him retrieve the garment bag from the trunk and head into the woods. He’d left the trunk open, illuminating the license plate, and I repeated it a few times before following him into the woods. I watched him dump the bag in a ditch of some sort not far from the water’s edge, then hid behind a tree until he left.”
Here came the sick part. Parker could feel it in his bones.
“What’d you do then?”
“I found the garment bag, opened it up, and used the flashlight on my phone to see Skylar’s face.”
“Was she dead?” Jason asked.
“Yes.”
“How could you tell?”
“Seriously?” Sebastian shook his head. “I’m not stupid. I can tell if someone’s dead.”
“Any obvious cause of death?” Jason asked.
“Her neck was bruised and cut into.”
Just as they’d seen on the video. Whoever killed her probably used a garrote. Fairly efficient and little mess, other than the usual DNA under the victim’s nails as she struggled.
That’s why it was so important for them to find Skylar’s body. So far Amanda King seemed the most freaked at the possibility of her body being found, but could she really be the killer? Was she strong enough?
Though Sebastian had described seeing a man with sideburns. Sideburns exactly like Kyle Eason had. Perhaps Amanda knew Kyle was guilty and was just attempting to protect him, or maybe they’d killed her together. That wouldn’t surprise him at all.
Jason took a quick break and told Parker he was going to order K9 units to canvass the area Sebastian had described. Even though Sebastian had moved the body, they would likely find evidence, and the sooner they started, the better. When he returned to the interrogation room, he asked about the license plate number.
Sebastian couldn’t recall the license plate number and hadn’t wanted to risk taking a photo of it, but he claimed he’d written it down as soon as he’d gotten to the studio.
Parker remembered Avery taking a picture of a series of numbers carved into one of the dilapidated wooden bookcases. Why Sebastian had chosen to cut it in with a knife rather than simply writing it on a piece of paper, Parker couldn’t fathom, but thankfully there was a ton about Sebastian Chadwick that he’d never be able to fathom.
Time to find out if Kyle owned a red Porsche. He made a quick call to Kate and then turned his attention back to the interrogation room, knowing she would call back soon enough.
The killer most likely approached Skylar from behind before she realized what was happening. No wonder Sebastian had used a scarf to cover her neck. They’d guessed right—he was covering the cause of death for the portrait.
“She was still perfect photograph material. I knew I could cover the bruises with makeup or a scarf,” Sebastian said as soon as the thought moved through Parker’s mind. With every fiber of decency in his being he fought to refrain from lunging through the glass and throttling the pervert.
Jason cleared his throat. “So you found a dead body and your first thought was how you were going to photograph her?”
“You don’t understand.” Sebastian lifted his chin. “How could you? I bet you don’t have an artistic bone in your body.”
Or a psychotic one. His smugness rankled Parker. He was discussing a murdered woman as if she were nothing more than some sort of art project.
“I’d been trying to photograph her for weeks. Wanted my work to be the centerpiece of the Fuller showing. My work was—is—far superior to Gerard’s.”
“And you didn’t find anything wrong with photographing a corpse?”
“It wasn’t ideal, of course, at least not at the time.”
A very unsettling feel rushed through Parker.
“At the time?” Jason asked.
Sebastian inhaled. “It’s quite addictive.”
“Excuse me?” Jason’s jaw tightened. “What exactly is addictive?”
“Working with a completely moldable subject.”
Bile churned in Parker’s gut. This guy was beyond disturbed. But he knew enough to know Jason would leave that line of discussion there, for now. The psychiatrist, who would most certainly be called to assess whatever depth of depravity they were dealing with, could delve into the perverse mind of Sebastian Chadwick. Jason’s job was to focus on the facts and Skylar’s killer, and he did so.
“So you took Skylar and . . . ?”
“I zipped the garment bag back up, hefted it over my shoulder just as the killer had, and put her in my car.”
“Where’s it at?”
“Where is my car?” Sebastian asked, confused.
“Yes,” Jason said.
“I’m not inclined to say for the moment.”
“Okay, where did you put Skylar’s body in your car?”
Sebastian frowned. “Why does that matter?”
“Details matter,” Jason said. “I assumed as an artist you knew that.”
“In the trunk,” Sebastian said, his jaw tightening. Wow, Jason was really getting under Sebastian’s skin. Good. It was time to get him unhinged and hear the truth, the full truth let loose. “I didn’t want to put her in the trunk, but I couldn’t risk someone seeing her in the backseat.”
So he had trouble putting her body in his trunk, but not photographing it? Okay, then . . .
“So you took Skylar’s body?” Jason said.
Sebastian nodded.
“And?” Jason prompted.
“Photographed her.”
“I’m assuming you changed her clothes for the picture first?” Jason said.
“Yes. I dressed her.”
Jason continued in that vein of questioning. “And fixed her hair and makeup?”
“Yes. She was my subject. I prepared her for the photograph.”
Jason was working hard to hide his disgust. Parker could read it all over his face.
“Where did you get the dress?” Jason asked.
“Her place.”
“When?”
“On the way to my studio.”
“That night?” Jason asked.
Sebastian nodded.
“So you drove with Skylar’s body in your trunk to her trailer, took items from her place, and then proceeded with her dead body to your studio to photograph her?” Jason asked, his tone bordering on horrified disbelief.
“Yes, but you needn’t make it sound so crass or repulsive. I took something horrible—Skylar’s death—and made something beautiful out of it. Her death wasn’t wasted.”
Parker swallowed the bile rising up his throat.
“Excuse me?”
“The killer dumped her like a piece of trash. I gave her one last shining memorial.”
“Before dumping her back with the trash, I’m guessing?”
Sebastian still hadn’t said that’s where Skylar’s body was now.
“I had to put her back where he’d put her.”
“Why?”
“In case her body was found. I needed it to be apparent that he did it. Not me.”
“And how does that location tie to him?”
“I don’t know, but if he put her there I assume it does. Or he could have just picked some random place. Either way, he killed her. I just borrowed her body for a few hours and put her back as I found her, minus her red sweater.”
The sweater Avery had found in Sebastian’s storage room.
“I wanted to keep something of hers from everyday to remember her by.”
That was literally the most repugnant confession Parker had ever heard, but they’d gotten the general location of Skylar’s body, and when they found her, Parker would be on site ASAP.
Jason told Sebastian to write out his story—until they had confirmation otherwise, it was a story. If it was the truth, his confession was what they’d need to put him away for a good number of crimes, not excluding impeding a murder investigation.
Kate called to confirm that Kyle Eason was in fact the owner of a red Porsche. He then asked her to work through Avery’s pictures, find the numbers scratched into the wood, and hopefully get a match to Kyle Eason’s Porsche.
Maybe this was about blackmail after all.
But Sebastian . . .