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Lucien held up his palm for a high five. “I knew Birk had connections. Although we might not need Deming after all. We’ve uncovered a new lead—among this mess—a man got a ticket that morning for speeding out of the neighborhood right after the murders. It wasn’t Deming.”
“Have you checked him out?” Jade asked.
“We literally came up with this lead two seconds before you got here,” Brogan explained.
“Then, just in case this new suspect doesn’t pan out, the woman Birk found is Valkyrie Graf, a German-born model who lives two hours outside Johannesburg, South Africa, in a town called Klerksdorp. Her father settled there forty years ago. She has ties to the area. After leaving the US, Valkyrie gravitated back to a familiar farm in the countryside her father owned.”
A stunned look crossed Brogan’s face. “Ten thousand miles away is a lot of gravitating. How on earth did Birk find her?”
“When she worked in the US as a model—and to some extent because of her relationship with Deming—she once had a social security number. It’s still active. He used that to track her down. Today, she’s forty-five but looks ten years younger. I saw her photograph on a social app site. Not Facebook. But there’s a side note you might find interesting about Klerksdorp. The city has quite the state-of-the-art medical hub, pulling in patients from the surrounding five towns. It’s known for having the best surgeons in South Africa on staff. Looking for a boob job? You head to Klerksdorp, where the best cosmetic surgeon in the country installs the implants.”
Brogan turned to Lucien. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“You don’t need a boob job,” Lucien deadpanned. “Trust me. Let alone getting to Klerksdorp, South Africa.”
She swatted his arm. “No, silly. I mean, are you thinking what I’m thinking about Deming.”
A wide smile crossed Lucien’s face. “The place would be a perfect spot for Deming to still practice medicine, under another name, of course. What if Deming and Graf were in on the murders together? Elliott could still be alive and living there with them.”
A shudder of excitement went through Brogan. “Wouldn’t that be something? If Elliott’s alive, that would be a miracle I didn’t see coming.”
But just as quickly as the thrill of the news shot up, she thought of the Reschers. The delight faded into a sad reality. “Then where is Trey? What did they do with him?”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Lucien cautioned. “Let’s keep from making any assumptions until we know more about Graf.”
The ups and downs of the case forced a sigh out of Brogan. “Okay. So what do we do now? How do we get this Valkyrie Graf to talk about Deming or the Dolworths?”
Jade waved a hand over the papers strewn on the table. “It sounds to me like you’re still interested in Deming.”
“Deming, Pollock, and now this Jarreau guy,” Lucien answered. “But Brogan has a point. How do we get this former girlfriend to talk?”
“Birk’s taking care of it. He’s already contacted an associate in Cape Town who’ll send someone up to Klerksdorp to find out more about her—how she lives, who she lives with, are there any young adults living with her—that sort of thing.”
“Spy on her? I like the idea of that,” Brogan said as she started out of the dining room and toward the kitchen. “This calls for cappuccinos or lattes all around. Jade, what’s your pleasure? I’ll even open a bottle of our best wine if that’s what you want. After all, it’s almost four o’clock, close enough to happy hour. And you’re staying for dinner. No point in arguing.”
“I wasn’t planning on arguing. Thank you. But we should probably ask Kelly to join us. Don’t you think? With Beckett out of town, she’ll be on her own, too.”
“Fantastic. The more, the merrier,” Brogan stated, sending Lucien a sympathetic look. “You’ll be outnumbered. You’ll just have to deal with a gaggle of women around you tonight.”
“Who’s complaining? I’m just wondering how long Jade plans to keep the real reason she stopped by to herself.”
Jade found that funny. “You are a decent detective. After Birk and Beckett finishes searching for the teenagers, Birk says it’s another four hours to Coyote Wells. If they’re that close, they might as well check out Spirit Lake. They took all the diving equipment with them. They’re planning on scouring the area for Lyssa and Conor.”
“Oh, my God,” Brogan said, wrapping Jade in a hug. “Thank you for telling us. We should update Daniel.”
“I’ll do it,” Lucien volunteered, patting his pockets for his car keys.
“You don’t need to do it right away,” Jade pointed out. “Birk and Beckett could be in Mendocino for a week, depending on how the search goes, before they head over to Coyote Wells. Their effort starts as a rescue but could turn to recovery within hours. You never know. Every search is different. I wouldn’t want Daniel sitting around for a week jacked up with anxiety about what they might find.”
“Jade’s right,” Brogan told Lucien. “Besides, we should keep going through Brent’s binder. We’ll need to start doing online searches for anything on Vincent Jarreau. And now, with Jade and Kelly here to help, it should go faster. Four people on laptops are better than one. I’ll call Kelly and give her a heads up.”
“You offered food. You didn’t say anything about having to work for it,” Jade cracked.
“People travel thousands of miles across oceans for one of my grilled burgers,” Lucien boasted, going to the refrigerator and taking out ground sirloin. “Chefs beg me for the recipe. Perry Altman pleaded for a hint about how I get them so tasty.”
Brogan rolled her eyes. “Thousands of miles? Really? Graeme Sutter doesn’t count. He eats beans on toast and thinks it’s a delicacy. And the only cook I know interested in your burgers is Max Bingham at the Hilltop Diner, who wanted to know if you ever mixed cheese into the meat mixture.”
Jade doubled over in laughter. “You guys crack me up. Don’t you ever get tired of each other spending so much time together?”
