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It was nearly eleven when he reached his house.
He immediately opened his computer, searching social media pages on Vince Monroe.
Ragnar showed up about fifteen minutes later. Red bounded into the house, happy to have spent time with Ragnar, but thrilled to be home with Mark.
“I did think about just keeping Red for the night, but I had to talk to you anyway, and might as well stop by and see what you thought about our ex-boyfriend,” Ragnar said.
“Thought you were going home to get some rest?”
“Yeah. Well, I left a little later than I planned. And I played on the computer too. I’m going to go home and get some sleep now.”
“Anything noteworthy at the hospital?”
“Both girls are being released tomorrow. Between our people and the police, we have Dierdre’s house staked out and Brant Pickering’s hotel room. And Sally’s home, of course, because I’m assuming Brant will probably check out and stay with her.”
“And even if we tried, we’d never convince either woman her boyfriend might be a psycho killer,” Mark said wearily.
Ragnar winced. “I tried speaking with Mr. Ayers. He was appalled I might think Gary was anything other than perfect for his daughter. He is convinced there was only one killer, and that killer was Jim Carver. He thinks I’m overstepping my position to begin to suspect a man as fine as Gary Boynton of having hurt his daughter in any way. He’ll be her husband soon enough.”
“What a wonderful life,” Mark muttered dryly.
Ragnar shook his head. “To each his own, I guess. So, what about the ex?”
“I liked the ex,” Mark told him. “But I’m planning on drawing up everything I can find on him and asking Angela to continue to look into him and get our tech people on it too. I believe they started a file on him when Dierdre first went missing.”
“But what impression did you get?”
Mark shrugged. “First, the guy is talented. I think he probably makes a decent living as a musician, but since Mr. Ayers is in the upper tier of moneymakers, it might not have seemed enough for him.”
“Ayers said the ex was always unemployed.”
“Not from what I’m seeing on the computer. He works solo and also with a band. They’re studio musicians and not fond of hitting the trail. He works with a group called Decadence.”
“Decadence?” Ragnar said. “I’ve heard of them. The guy has to make a decent living.”
“On his own, he books a club for a week or two every so often. I’ve got Angela checking his financials.”
“Yeah, but it sounds as if he’s okay?”
“To me, so far. But you could make a case for the long-haired, hippie type being the bad guy, or for the rich guy living a secret life, or even the famous writer who digs into the deep, dark side of history who has a deep, dark side himself.”
“Well, you’ll never convince Megan of that. She told me she knows people, knows what they really mean, and it’s obvious he just really loves delving into little-known stories about the past.”
“She could be right.”
“Yeah, but I told her we don’t work that way. In the courts, you’re innocent until proven guilty. When you’re working this kind of case, someone is guilty—until proven innocent. I’m not so sure about Megan’s abilities.”
Sparks had evidently flown between Ragnar and Megan. “Hey, I didn’t believe in Colleen’s strange talent either until she heard something she couldn’t have heard by normal means and found a location even before Red did,” Mark said.
Ragnar shrugged. “Well, it’s late.” He grinned. “Next time, I get the supper club.”
Mark laughed. “You could have come.”
“It looked more natural for just the two of you to go.”
“It was good. We watched his first set, and in between, he came out to talk to the audience. We told him the truth about who we were. And here’s one thing—he admitted he does still love Dierdre, but Dierdre just couldn’t take the pressure from her father. Now that could mean if he couldn’t have her...”
“No one could. But you didn’t get that vibe?”
Mark shook his head. “And yet, in all honesty, my feelings are no more valid than Megan’s—if that valid. I didn’t like Boynton from the start.”
“Yep. I understand that.”
“Monroe is going to come into headquarters. We’ll see what he can tell us,” Mark said.
“All right. I’m heading out.”
But before Ragnar could open the door to leave, Mark’s phone rang.
“Hey, it’s me,” the caller said.
The “me” was Angela Hawkins Crow from Krewe headquarters.
“What are you doing working this late? I asked you to try to get everything you could in the morning,” Mark said.
“Yeah, the kids went to bed, Jackson fell asleep, and my mind wouldn’t turn off,” she told him.
“You found something on Vince Monroe?”
“No. No more than what you had gleaned from him already. He isn’t rich, but he’s doing okay. But I did find something very interesting—about Mr. Ayers and his admiration for Gary Boynton.”
