47

What on earth was going on? “Are there any other bodies?” Parker asked, his voice choked. Where was Skylar? And when had Megan been killed?

“No, sir,” the K9 officer said. “We’ve canvassed the entire area, though there are what look to be fresh tire tracks leading in.”

What kind of sick game was Sebastian playing?

Good thing he’d held off on calling Avery. He would have gotten her all upset when it wasn’t even her friend’s body. Though, poor Megan. They’d just spoken with her. Hours ago.

Had Sebastian seen and killed her for talking with them? Had they fought over the images they’d shown Megan? Was it possible he had killed her and had time to dump her body? They’d only stopped for takeout, and Sebastian was in Avery’s home within an hour of their leaving Megan. The timing bordered on the impossible. “Call Brent Dixon in.”

“You’re not going to process the scene?” Jason said.

Brent was the second best in the business.

“I need to get back to the station.” Before word of this spreads. Sebastian had been at Avery’s at eleven and had been in custody ever since. There was no way he could have dumped the body.

He called Avery, explained they found Megan, not Skylar, and asked her to meet him at the station.

And twenty minutes later she walked into the viewing room. He explained a bit more about what they found, but left out some of the details because she appeared to be reaching the brink of her self-control. “Officers found fresh tire tracks. Dixon is getting impressions.”

“How fresh?”

Parker had taken time to inspect them before leaving. His guess was sometime in the last hour or two. Something was very off. “Pretty fresh.”

“Then that means . . . ?” She looked at Sebastian.

“Yes, he couldn’t have dumped Megan. So it is likely he did not kill her. And I am coming to believe his claims about Skylar are true too.” He took her hand and kissed her on the cheek. “I have to join Griffin in the interrogation room. He wants me in there to question Sebastian about what I assessed on the scene.”

She nodded, clearly still stunned by the news. Sebastian couldn’t be in two places at once, but Sebastian innocent meant . . .

Parker entered right as Griffin picked up the picture of Megan Kent he’d printed out from the image Jason had texted him from the scene. Just her face nestled in the garment bag.

Parker sat back, waiting to see how Sebastian would react.

“What are you trying to pull?” Griffin asked, sliding the picture across the table to Sebastian.

Sebastian’s face slackened, his eyes widening, shock dousing any earlier cockiness. “Wh-where’d you get this?”

“Where do you think? Right where you dumped her body. Pretty sick to tell us Skylar Pierce’s body was there when it was your girlfriend’s body instead.”

Sebastian shook his head, his expression dazed. “What are you talking about? Megan’s not dead. It’s Skylar who’s dead. Skylar who’s in the garment bag in the woods.”

“We sent officers and cadaver dogs right where you told us to go, and the only body there was Megan’s. Why is that, Sebastian?”

Sebastian stared at the photo in complete shock and then straightened, anger replacing the fear in his brown eyes. “Is this some kind of sick joke?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Griffin said.

Sebastian stood and paced. “I don’t understand.” He raked a trembling hand through his messy-style brown hair. “You’re saying Megan’s really dead? Someone killed her?”

“Yeah, you. What? Were you trying to get her out of the house so you could bring Avery in? Is that your new studio?”

“You think I’d kill Megan for studio space?”

“I think you’d kill for a variety of sick reasons that I don’t pretend to comprehend.”

“I didn’t kill my girlfriend.”

“But you killed Skylar Pierce?”

“No. I didn’t kill anyone.”

An officer cracked the door, leaned in, and handed a slip of paper to Griffin. He read it. “ME confirms your assessment on site,” he said to Parker and then turned to Sebastian. “Based on body temp, looks like your girlfriend couldn’t have been dead for more than a couple hours before the police found her body.”

“A couple hours?” Sebastian’s voice heightened as he retook his seat, his knee bobbing rapidly up and down. “You mean he killed her tonight?”

“He?”

“It had to be the man who killed Skylar. It’s the only thing that makes sense. He must have found out that I saw him, and he freaked and wanted to make me look guiltier, so he killed Megan.”

“Can I see that?” Parker asked Griffin for the paper containing the ME’s initial call from in the field. If they were correct—and there was no reason to assume otherwise—then the timing for Sebastian to kill Megan was impossible. Sebastian was telling the truth. Someone was trying to set him up but—not knowing he would be in police custody at the time of the murder—had actually established his innocence.

“Detective McCray?” An officer stood in the doorway, signaling him to step out.

Griffin lifted his chin. “I’ll be right back.” He stepped from the room.

Sebastian studied Parker as Parker studied him.

“You know I’m telling the truth, don’t you?” Sebastian said.

Griffin reentered and tossed another photograph to Sebastian. “So you’re suggesting the killer liked to take photographs of dead girls too?”

Sebastian’s eyes widened. “He photographed her?”

The killer had photographed Megan. There’s no way Sebastian could have time to do any of that. “May I see that?” Parker asked.

Sebastian handed it over. “That’s not my work. Not even close. And I would never pose her like that.”

As demented as Sebastian was, Parker actually believed him. He studied the image. It was rushed. Nothing like that of Skylar.

“Jason sent officers to their home,” Griffin said under his breath to Parker. “They found the staging still there, images on the camera and downloaded to Sebastian’s laptop. He forwarded a few images here, as you can see.”

“Is that where she was killed?” Parker asked.

“We’ll need to run the place, but it definitely appears to be the crime scene,” Griffin answered.

“I can’t believe this.” Sebastian’s knee bobbed faster, his hands shaking. “I can’t believe he killed her.”

“Can I share this image with Avery?” Parker asked Griff, wanting a professional photographer’s opinion on the comparison to Sebastian’s work.

Griffin nodded. “Of course.”

Parker took the photograph into the viewing room, where Avery reached for it as soon as he entered.

“What do you think?” he asked.

She studied it. “This is the work of a complete amateur.”

“In what way? Clearly the staging is completely different. The outfit she’s wearing is an everyday one. She’s just placed on the couch, but what else?”

“The body is positioned completely wrong to accent the critical beauty features of a woman,” Avery said, “and the lighting is flat. When you photograph women you need lighting such that the shadows are not harsh, but they accent the woman’s features. Beyond that the white balance is all wrong.”

“Meaning his camera settings were off?”

“If we go to Megan’s and check the camera used, I bet we find the settings are way off. Maybe we’ll get prints if we’re lucky.”

“Good idea. I hate to think Sebastian innocent. . . .” For a myriad of reasons. “But the timeline isn’t adding up.”

Megan Kent’s home was filled with police as Parker, Avery, and Griffin arrived. Jason had remained with Sebastian, feeling he was on the verge of cracking.

Avery slipped gloves on and removed the bagged and tagged camera, and her initial assessment held true. “Settings are exactly as I imagined they’d be. Set for outdoor lighting. The white balance is all wrong, making the light appear overly warm—yellow almost bordering on orange in hue.”

“Good job.” Parker squeezed her shoulder. For being basically self-taught, Avery was a natural.

“It’s set so time stamps don’t show on the images. No photographer wants annoying red digits in the bottom right-hand corner of their work, but . . .” She pressed a series of buttons. “Ah-ha. Whoever took the photos didn’t realize or didn’t care that the time stamps are still held according to image number in the camera’s memory chip. Look when the photos of Megan were taken.”

She tilted the camera for him to see.

12:30 a.m.

“When Sebastian was already in custody. There’s no way he could have killed Megan.”

“So who do you think killed her?”

Parker’s cell rang. “It’s Kate. Let’s pray she has confirmed the license plate number.” He answered. “Hey, Kate.”

“You’re right. The license plate number is assigned to Kyle Eason’s car.”