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THIRTEEN
Trent flicked the stereo off as Amanda climbed into the car. When she’d walked up, she’d heard the beat of modern country, and this wasn’t the first time she’d caught him listening to the genre. She didn’t mind but wasn’t much of a music person. Kevin wore his earbuds any chance he got. He loved Bruce Springsteen and classic rock bands. All this danced through her mind—anything a welcome distraction from replaying the interaction she’d just had with her brother.
“He figures the vehicle in the video was either a Honda or Toyota sedan,” she said. “From within the last five years.”
“That’s all? No model?”
“He’s not a genie.” The comment was meant to be amusing, but one look at Trent told her he wasn’t in the mood to jest. “He shouldn’t have kicked you out.”
“No, he shouldn’t have.” Trent faced the windshield and twisted his hands on the steering wheel as if cooling his temper—and he rarely got angry. There was only once that she could recall, and that was when they had to deal with a woman-beating asshole. The situation hit home because his aunt was still a victim of domestic violence. Their efforts to save her had gone unrewarded.
“I don’t know what to say.”
He slowly faced her. “There’s nothing for you to say.” Dry. Clear. No subtle meanings to ferret out.
She met his gaze, silence budding between them, and she almost hated that she found herself empathizing with her brother’s position. From his standpoint, he still needed someone to blame for things outside of his control—Amanda pulling back from her family and their mother facing a murder charge. Trent had become that face. “We should go see Josh Ryder,” Amanda said.
“Yeah.” Trent sat up straighter. “I pulled his background while you were in there. Twenty-one, no criminal record. His parents live in Dumfries, but Josh’s address is in Fairfax.”
“Okay. Great.” Now, if Josh was guilty of killing Chloe, there would be some red tape to wade through. They’d have to coordinate their efforts with the Fairfax PD before making the arrest. Still, that was a small price to pay for justice. It brought to mind something else. Josh would need some way of getting to Woodbridge to see Chloe. “Does he have any vehicles registered to him?”
He checked the onboard system. “No vehicles.”
“He could take public transportation, including taxis and car services.” Just like their killer could have done. There was another possibility though… “What about Josh’s parents? What vehicles do they have? Josh could drive one of theirs.”
“Bruce and Molly Ryder.” Trent clicked away on the keyboard. “Looks like they have three: a BMW X2, a Chevy Equinox, and a Toyota Prius. All are models from within the last five years.”
“Why would one couple need three cars? Josh might drive one, and the Prius is a sedan. It could match the headlights in the video. Either way, we should take a drive up to Fairfax and talk to him.”
“I’m not going to dispute that, but we’re only assuming Josh even drives that car. And the video shows someone whom we assume to be the killer being dropped off. If we think Josh may be that person, and the vehicle was his parents’, then who was driving? Are we looking for an accomplice?”
“Let’s not go there until we have to.”
“You still want to fit him in before the autopsy?”
The clock on the dash told her it was going on two o’clock. Fairfax was thirty minutes from Manassas where the autopsy would be held. “If he’s Chloe’s killer, that trumps the morgue.”
“Suppose it does. Do you really think the boyfriend is behind this?”
“We need to rule him out.” She thought back to how happy Chloe and Josh had looked in the photographs that lined the mirror over the vanity. But something could have drastically changed. Amanda’s own life was a testament to how things flipped in an instant.
“All right.” He put the car into drive, and they headed in the direction of Fairfax.
They were almost to Fairfax when Amanda’s phone rang. Caller ID told her it was Malone, and she answered immediately. “Do you have news for me?”
“Well, hello to you too.” Malone usually got to business just as fast as she did, but something had him taking a step back.
She put the call on speaker. “It’s me and Trent, and hello,” she said slowly. “We finished up notifying Chloe’s parents.”
“How did that go?”
“About as well as could be expected. They lost their only daughter.”
“Definitely wouldn’t have been an easy message to deliver.”
“I’m assuming you have something for us?” She was surprised she needed to corral him.
“One of the K-9s found a running shoe in the woods. Right foot, correct size for Chloe. It’s been bagged and tagged as evidence.”
“Just a shoe?” She’d hoped they’d found her clothing, phone, or laptop, or even that the APB on Chloe’s car had a hit.
“That’s it. What are you guys following up on now?” he asked.
“We’re almost to Fairfax. That’s where Chloe’s boyfriend, Josh Ryder, lives. He goes to the Geoffrey Michaels University campus in Fairfax.”
“Any reason to suspect the boyfriend?”
“Just checking off the boxes, Sarge,” she said with a smirk. The direct answer to his question would have been no, but it would be premature to assume the boyfriend was innocent. Stabbing was often a murder of passion, but the rest of the scene didn’t complete that picture. The cleaning, posing, and the orchid. All of that was saying something else entirely. She had to figure out what.
“Let me know how it goes with him.”
“Will do.” She always kept him in the loop with investigations and wasn’t quite sure why he’d felt the need to say that.
“And next… after the boyfriend?”
“We’re headed to the autopsy.”
“They’re never fun when the victims are young. It doesn’t matter how long I’ve been on this job, it never gets easier.”
So much for Amanda’s hopes that she’d eventually become callused and desensitized…
Trent pulled into the parking lot of a townhouse complex.
“We’re at the boyfriend’s now. I’ll update you when I have anything,” she assured him again and ended the call. Since when did the Sarge push to that extent? Was that new or had he been that way a while now? She wasn’t entirely sure. Her own life was undergoing a transformation and had become quite chaotic ever since Zoe entered her life in September, leaving her mind preoccupied most of the time. Waiting for the adoption to finalize was painful, and she was only a couple of months in. She couldn’t imagine being a number in the system waiting to hear when a child was available. At least she was already ahead of things and fostering Zoe full-time. The rest was just legal checkboxes to tick off. One of which was a detailed background check on Zoe’s family to ensure there wasn’t anyone with a legal right to claim her as theirs.
As far as Amanda knew no such person existed—the Parkers had no living family members. But there was one name she’d provided the state out of due diligence. During the Parker investigation, it had come to light that Angela Parker, Zoe’s mother, had an affair with a Colin Brewster around the time Zoe was conceived. Colin had moved to California years ago for a job, and Amanda doubted he’d be concerned with whether Zoe was his or not. Even if he came forward to stake a claim on Zoe, it would just take a paternity test to send him on his way again.
