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That in itself was not incriminating, which meant there was some other reason that Carter was worried about whether or not Dean needed an attorney. “Did he leave voicemails?” asked Josie.
“No. He just kept calling. I guess he—he called Erin and she told him I was at the firehouse, so he called there.”
Gretchen leaned her hip against the edge of the table. “What did he say to Erin?”
“Nothing. Just that he was looking for me. He hung up on her before she could ask any questions. There was a missed call from her, too.”
Dougherty removed the gauze from the wound. “The bleeding stopped but you’ve got a couple of splinters. You may need stitches.”
Carter glanced down at it, flinching in pain. “It doesn’t need stitches. I can get the splinters out later with tweezers.”
Brennan looked over Dougherty’s shoulder. “How do you know that doesn’t need stitches?”
“Because I’m also a trained EMT,” Carter said irritably. “Trust me. It’s fine. If it looks like it’s getting infected in the next couple of days, I’ll go to urgent care.”
With a nod, Dougherty searched the first aid kit and came up with a small bottle of saline solution. He used it to flush the wound, holding wads of gauze under it so Carter’s lap didn’t get soaked.
“How long was your phone on silent?” Josie asked.
“A few hours. Mols was cranky. She needed a nap but lately she won’t sleep unless me or Erin are with her so I took her into her room and laid down with her. Read her a book till she fell asleep. I had my phone on mute then. That was around six thirty or seven this morning. Usually I stay in there until she wakes up while Erin occupies Piper. If you accidentally wake Mols before she’s ready, there will be hell to pay. But I needed to pick up food from the firehouse, so when she was settled, I told Erin I was heading over there. Let her know I’d probably use the gym, too. I never even looked at my phone.”
“What other calls did you miss?” Josie asked.
“Kirstie. She called me.”
“What time?”
“It was this morning. I don’t remember the exact time.” Heaving a sigh, he added, “It’s on my phone.”
“Over here,” said Brennan. He squatted and reached under the table, retrieving Carter’s phone before handing it to Josie.
Luckily, the screen hadn’t shattered in the melee. The lock screen came to life, showing a photo of Carter’s daughters wearing plastic children’s fire helmets. Before she could ask for his permission to peruse it, he said, “Passcode is 1102.”
His voice was heavy with defeat. Josie tapped in the numbers. “What time did you leave home?”
“Sometime around eight, maybe a quarter after? I don’t know the exact time. I wasn’t paying attention.”
His home screen had the same photo of his girls. “What time did you arrive at the firehouse?”
“It takes about ten minutes to get there so probably ten after eight? You can ask the guys.”
Finished flushing Carter’s wound, Dougherty began dressing it.
Josie moved closer to Gretchen. She found the Google Maps icon. “I’d like your permission to view your Google timeline.”
“Yeah, fine, whatever.”
She angled the phone screen so that Gretchen could also see it as she found Carter’s GPS history. Just as he had said, he’d been home for over twenty-four hours before going to the firehouse this morning. He’d left his house at 7:57 and arrived at the station at 8:08. He’d remained there until he followed them to Dean’s house.
Josie pulled up his call log. Kirstie had called him once at 10:37 a.m. Mere minutes before her death.
“Did she leave a voicemail?” asked Gretchen as Josie pulled up the voicemail app.
“No,” he said hoarsely.
Dougherty finished up and pulled Carter’s shirt down over his abdomen. He packed up the first aid kit. He and Brennan left the room but Conlen lingered in the doorway, on standby in case there was another meltdown.
Mentally, Josie tried to work through Carter’s thought process. He had discovered the missed call from his sister-in-law and decided that Dean might need a lawyer. “You think Kirstie called you because she was afraid of Dean.”
