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“Today, a few hours ago, and it’s in a canyon only about half a mile to Reservoir Point, as the drone flies.”
“Or the Big Foot lumbers,” Pescoli said dryly. “It’s a guy in an ape suit. A big guy. Has to be.” She pointed to the screen. “So, how does this have anything to do with Lindsay Cronin’s car crash? Or is it unrelated?” She didn’t believe it. Two friends who died in separate incidents? The first, certainly the victim of homicide, the second, one of the last people who was contacted by Destiny Rose Montclaire before her death, in a single car crash.
And Kywin Bell had been close to both girls.
“I got a preliminary autopsy report on Lindsay Cronin. Looks like she died in the crash. Ribs punctured a lung, head trauma, broken bones. Even though she was wearing a seat belt, the car was crushed, just crumpled in on her.”
“Don’t tell me she was pregnant.”
“No.”
“Anyone told her parents yet?”
“Two deputies gave the Cronins the news. They’re destroyed, of course, the older brother quiet, kind of keeping it all in. Roy, her father, called me and came in and ID’d the body.”
“Not the mother?”
“Darlie declined.”
“I don’t blame her. That would be rough. Beyond rough.” As she sat at her desk, nearly ready to give birth to her third child, a cute little card propped up near her computer, anticipation growing to welcome a new family member, she felt a bit humbled that she had this embarrassment of riches when the Cronins had just lost their only daughter.
CHAPTER 27
The three detectives hashed it out in a back room often used for meetings or, if they needed one, a task force. The windows were mounted high, just enough to let in the late afternoon light, two whiteboards were pressed against one wall, and there were several laptop computers on the large table at which Pescoli and Alvarez sat, listening to Detective Sage Zoller, as she went over the information in the Montclaire case. As she talked, information appeared on their screens.
“So, here’s what we know,” she said. “There are rumors that Destiny had several boyfriends and used one against the other. But, Donald Justison Junior is not the father of her child.”
“That doesn’t rule him out as a suspect,” Alvarez said. “In fact, that might have been his motive to kill her, that she cheated on him.”
“Who is the father?” Pescoli asked. The room was hot and stuffy; the air conditioner, which kept some parts of the building as cold as ice, was unable to filter any of that cool air here. An oscillating fan standing in a corner did little more than move the hot air around, ruffling papers on the table.
“Unknown. We’ve ruled out Bryant Tophman, Rod Devlin, Emmett Tufts, and TJ O’Hara as the baby dad
dy,” Sage admitted. “None of them are a match.”
“Again, it doesn’t mean they weren’t involved,” Pescoli argued.
Zoller nodded. “So far, Austin Reece has refused to give a sample and his father is blocking it every way.”
Alvarez growled, “I’m getting a court order. That kid is going to get swabbed.”
“Good,” Pescoli said, shifting in the chair. Sitting for long periods of time was difficult, and she’d been up for what seemed like years.
Zoller continued, “Alex O’Hara and the Bell brothers’ samples are being processed, should be back from the lab tonight or early tomorrow morning.”
Pescoli grunted. “What else?”
“The lab has no other physical evidence other than the bit of latex under the victim’s nails. It’s assumed she was fighting her attacker off as he strangled her and she managed to pierce the latex.”
“No easy feat,” Alvarez observed. “That stuff is made so that it won’t rupture. That’s the whole idea.”
Pescoli fanned herself with her file folder. “So we got lucky.”
Zoller didn’t look convinced. “We already know those gloves can be found everywhere, from hospitals to labs, to your local construction sites. Anyone could pick up a pack.... We’re checking recent orders from various outlets, but that’ll take some time.”
“What about alibis?” Pescoli said.
“As for the statements of the people interviewed, they’re all over the map, as you can see,” Sage said. “Most of them have alibis, but some are each other’s.”
