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“Both victims? Kerry, c’mon. Who is this person?”
May felt ashamed by how much like an eight-year-old baby sister she sounded in that moment. Kerry had the knack of doing that to her, stringing her along, and much as May tried to resist, she inevitably ended up behaving the same way. Kerry had done the same as far back as May could remember. It was May’s fault, she knew, for falling back into that role.
But luckily, Kerry seemed unable to keep the information to herself a minute more.
“When I saw the case details, I immediately went and did some intensive research. I looked into the backgrounds of other people at the school. Seeing both Shawna and Emily went to the same school, it was the first place to look for a common thread.”
“And did you find anyone?”
“Yes, I did. A guy named Callum McGee.”
“Why do you think he’s a suspect?”
Taking the turnoff for Chestnut Hill, May glanced at Kerry as she stopped at a light. Kerry was looking quietly satisfied.
“He’s an ex-boyfriend of Emily Hobbs and Shawna Harding. I checked their social media for the links and information. He’s quite the school celeb. He’s the captain of the football team and also plays for his state. He’s on the athletics team, too. But he has a sealed arrest record.”
“Which you unsealed?”
Kerry nodded mysteriously.
“And?”
“He faced charges of assault last year, at the age of seventeen. Charges which were filed by Shawna Harding, his girlfriend at the time.”
May’s eyes widened in excitement. “That does sound promising.”
Kerry nodded, looking pleased and determined.
“He has links to both the victims. He has actual charges against him that were filed by one of them. The charges were dropped, but I’m not sure why that happened. It could well be that the reasons for the victim dropping the charges are somehow related to the reasons for the crime.”
“That would make sense,” May said.
“Kerry’s a genius at research,” Adams said, sounding satisfied.
“Thank you,” she replied. “Anyhow, he’s going to be our first stop. You see, local knowledge also works from afar, when you have the right resources.”
“Yes, I see that,” May said humbly.
“Turn left here,” she directed May. “Callum’s house should be the second one on the right, going up the hill. If he can’t give us clear answers and a strong alibi, we might just have our suspect in custody in a few minutes. Hopefully, he can then tell us where Shawna is being held.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
May was filled with equal parts admiration and envy for Kerry, as she drove up the hill and parked outside the second house on the right. This was the suspect’s house. A strong suspect. Callum McGee had a juvenile assault record, and a history of involvement with both victims.
Imagine if this crime could be solved within the hour. Imagine if Callum was able to give the whereabouts of Shawna Harding, and she could be returned safely to her family?
That would be a huge result. It would all be down to Kerry, whose brilliant investigative mind had discovered the crucial details at unprecedented speed. She’d be the hero of the hour.
However, May felt consumed by worry that people would think she, as the local deputy, had done a poor job. After all, she hadn’t yet explored any shared romantic interests between the two girls. That was because the second victim had only been taken last night, and in comparison with the FBI, obtaining information locally was slower. By the time they were done with the search for Shawna, it had been too late to go and interview anyone from Chestnut Hill High, or have a look at who was who in the school. May had been planning on compiling her shortlist first thing today and she’d anticipated the research would take a few hours.
But regardless of the reasons and excuses, the truth was that Kerry would have cracked the case effortlessly, and May worried how that would sit with the locals. Would they still trust her as their county deputy, knowing that it had taken an outsider to come up with the fact that a local boy was their killer? She tried to calm her fears by telling herself firmly that as long as the case was solved, that was the main thing. If the killer was caught, lives would be saved, and that was what mattered most.
May took a look at the house as she climbed out of the car. It was an older house, and didn’t seem well maintained.
For a homely, friendly town like Chestnut Hill, it wasn’t really the sort of place that you’d imagine the popular high school football star living in. Dust had settled on the veranda. The garden was overgrown and the mailbox was sagging at an odd angle, leaning against the fence like it was about to fall. In contrast, the home next door, separated by a solid brick wall, looked perfectly maintained, making this house seem like an even bigger eyesore.
“It’s a dump,” Kerry said. “That could be because Mr. McGee is divorced. I read that in the police report. He’s divorced, and his son lives with him.”
