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“I also think they parked at another location and walked up—there’s just too many prying eyes in this neighborhood and I don’t think our suspect is that stupid. They possibly came up through the woods, or along the sidewalk, or the shoreline of the lake. There is a neighborhood park about a quarter mile from the Kaing home which would be a perfect spot to park a vehicle and blend in. I’m working on gaining access to the CCTV cams there; I’ll let you know when I get them.”
“Good call. What about fingerprints in the home?”
“Well, as suspected, the tech said the home is covered in fingerprints considering people live there. He dusted a few from the window locks and door frames, sent them off, but I don’t feel good about it. I wouldn’t recommend putting too much stock in obtaining anything useful from this angle. That’s my update.”
“Got it. Evelyn, what do you have for us?”
“I found out who does the Kaings’ housekeeping. It’s a regionally based company called Angel Cleaners, LLC. They were a tough nut to crack, let me tell you. Because of confidentiality reasons, they wouldn’t give me information right away. I had to threaten a warrant and spook them by telling them that the information I need is related to a homicide. So, FYI, you might get a call about that.”
I grin. Despite all her pink and daisies, Evelyn is a dog with a bone. Nothing will stop her from obtaining what she’s got her eye on.
She continues, “I have a call into my personal friend who is a nurse at Cove Clinic. I’m going to see if she can peek into the neighbor, Amos Hoyt’s, medical file to see if he’s got any cognitive or mental health issues—oh, also, he has no criminal record, FYI. I confirmed that. Anyway, I’m waiting on my nurse-friend to call back with the medical information. I’ll let you know.”
“Anything on the autopsy?” Hoffman asks us.
“Darcy is conducting it as we speak,” Kellan says. “We did get the toxicology report, and at the time of Alyssa Kaing’s death, she was clean of drugs.”
“Interesting. So, the altercation is not likely drug-related.”
“Right.”
“I’m getting the picture that she is rehabilitated and cleaned up,” I say, then switch gears. “Okay, here’s our report. Kellan and I spent most of the day speaking with Alyssa’s friends and family, and canvassing the Kaing neighborhood. Nothing useful from her friends and family, but we did get a hell of a nugget from Amos Hoyt, after dropping by his house. He told us that Alyssa told him that she felt like someone had been following her in the months leading up to her death.”
Hoffman sits up, Evelyn cocks a brow.
“Don’t get too excited, that’s literally all we know. Alyssa wasn’t sure whether it was a man or a woman, because she only saw the person from a distance, and told Hoyt that she saw this person several times outside her home and also in town—she thinks.”
“Hair color, race, height, anything?” Hoffman presses.
“Nope.” I flip open my notebook. “The big news is that we finally spoke with Zach Kaing, the husband. He says he is still in Japan on business. Before I told him that his wife had been murdered, I asked if he had spoken with her recently. He said that he hadn’t, in a few days. I think this is strange. When I told him his wife was deceased, and that it appears to be from suspicious causes, he seemed to be genuinely surprised. Speechless, actually. But I didn’t get the sense of a lot of love lost. He’s booking the first flight home.”
“And coming here for an interview?”
“Yes.”
“What questions did he ask?” Hoffman leans forward, steepling his hands in front of his face.
“Typical stuff: Do we know who did it, how did it happen, etc. I kept the details as short as possible, and told him we’re waiting for the autopsy for more information. I did not tell him about the Xs over her eyes. I’m saving that for face-to-face so that I can see his reaction. We exchanged information and he texted right before I walked in here saying he was already at the airport and should be landing back in the states tomorrow afternoon. He’s going to come straight to the station.”
“Do you believe him?” Evelyn asks. “What does your gut say?”
“TBD. I requested that he send me his flight information, which he did, so I do believe that he is out of the country, which makes it impossible for him to have physically killed her. As for my gut…” I hesitate. “I’m not sure… Something definitely seems off.”
“Him being out of the country doesn’t mean he couldn’t have paid somebody to do it,” Evelyn adds, stuck on the husband angle.
“Right.” I flip a page in my notebook. “So, the next big thing is the autopsy—getting those results. And then we’ll talk to Zach Kaing immediately when he returns to the states tomorrow afternoon. Does anyone else have anything to add?”
When no one speaks, I wrap up. “Okay then, let’s sync up again tomorrow morning at the office, let’s say eight o’clock. But if anything comes through before then, call me. The CCTV footage, the housekeeper…”
“You got it.”
“Are you guys coming into the office now?” Hoffman asks, his eyes shifting around the cab of my vehicle.
“No, I’ve got a few things to do. I might come in later tonight, we’ll see.” I look at Kellan.
“I’m not sure yet,” he says to the group.
I disconnect the video call.
