Page 61 of K-9 in Pursuit

“They were of you and a woman and two children. I assume your wife and family.”

“It wouldn’t be anyone else,” he said.

Chloe tried to remember the photographs. “Does your wife have long, dark blond hair and a narrow face?”

“Why are you asking?”

Chloe swallowed. She hated confrontation. But this man was already furious with her, so she probably couldn’t make things worse. “I’m sure your wife was upset about what happened with Sharee,” she said.

“She was a wreck. Your sister almost destroyed our marriage. I’m still trying to calm her fears and your reaching out isn’t helping anything.”

“Mr. Douglas, where was your wife while you were in New York?”

“She was home, with our twins. Her sister was with her. She came to stay while I was away, to help with the twins and to keep Theresa company. The police have already verified this. You need to leave Theresa out of this.”

“Where is your wife now?” Chloe asked.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Is she home now?”

“Of course she is. We have two small children. She can’t just hand them off at a moment’s notice.”

“Do you think your wife hated Sharee enough to hire someone to kill her?”

“That’s ridiculous. We don’t have money for anything like that. I’m a schoolteacher and she’s a stay-at-home mom. Now I really have to go.” He ended the call, silence buzzing in Chloe’s ear.

It certainly sounded like Cameron Douglas had no love for Sharee. And neither did his wife. Chloe recalled Bunny Allerton’s rant about women who went after married men. She had said if a woman ever tried to take her man, she would “put the fear of God in her.” Theresa Douglas had apparently been interested in amateur theatrics. Anyone associated with a theater would have known about stage makeup, and how to change her appearance for a role. And how many times had Chloe seen Darinda use her acting experience to manipulate the people in her life?

But Theresa Douglas had been home with two small children and her sister when Sharee died, and was home now. So she couldn’t be Bunny Allerton, or the unknown murderer.

Chloe believed Brian hadn’t killed Sharee, and he certainly hadn’t broken into Chloe’s apartment or the salon. That left a random stranger or unknown enemy. Chloe didn’t have enemies—she avoided confrontation and kept her head down. Sharee might have sparked jealousy or even anger in someone, but how was Chloe going to find her sister’s enemy when she hadn’t really known her sister?

Chapter Eighteen

Brian spent the rest of Friday trying to work up the nerve to call his parents, but before he could pull out his phone to make the call, his father called him. “You’ve been on my mind all day,” his father said. “I wanted to see how you’re doing.”

His father always said things like this—how he had felt called to stop by for a visit or make a call. Maybe it went along with being a pastor. Right now, the kindness in his father’s voice was enough to bring Brian to tears, but he managed to control his emotions enough to find his voice. “I’m having a rough time right now, Dad,” he said. “I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to call you.”

“What’s happened? Do you need us to come to Colorado?”

The thought of his parents here in SkyCrest was both comforting and crushing. “No, you don’t need to come here. Not yet.”

“Then tell me what’s wrong.”

He spoke with the same tone he had used when Brian broke a neighbor’s window with a poorly aimed baseball when he was nine, or when he had a fender bender in the family car when he was sixteen. Brian had rarely seen his father angry, and even then the anger was never directed at his family. “There was this girl,” he began. “She was eighteen, and I guess she had a crush on me. She started following me around at work, flirting with me. I didn’t encourage her, I swear. I tried to tell her nicely that I wasn’t interested. I was way too old for her. But she didn’t take it well. She got angry. She pretended to be someone else and called in complaints about me. I think she was upset because I rejected her. Before I could talk to her about it, she was killed.”

“Killed? What happened?”

“Someone murdered her. Dad, I swear I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Of course you didn’t.”

“But one of my ski gloves was found near her body. I lost that glove the day before she was killed. Everyone in ski patrol knew I’d been looking for it. But when the local sheriff found out the glove was mine, and when he heard I was upset because she tried to get me fired…”

“He thinks you killed this girl?” His father’s voice had taken on a hollow tone.

“He does.” He swallowed, trying to bring moisture into his dust-dry mouth. “A friend helped me find a good lawyer and she called me this morning to tell me there’s going to be a grand jury meeting next week to consider charging me. Dad, I don’t know what to do.”