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We make small talk as he drives east, pulling into a gated driveway that opens when Jo taps a fob. He stops by the entry, reaching into a mailbox and lobbing a handful of mail into the back seat. The gravel leads to a beautifully kept house, surrounded on either side by the pristine bay beyond.
I grit my teeth as I slam my eyes shut, forcibly chasing the images of Lorenzo from my head. Seeing the place he’d have reared his kid, the life he could have led if not for me…
“So, the house istechnicallynot a crime scene anymore.”
Jo’s low voice jolts me into awareness, and I shift about in my seat, finding him gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles.
“The minute I informed my superiors of Sara Ricci’s call, the already lackluster investigation was called off. Now—” He turns to face me, fire in his eyes. “I already knew something was off. But dropping the case, despiteclearevidence of an intruder at the scene…”
He reaches for the door handle as he trails off in sheer frustration. “Come on. I’ll show you what I mean.”
I follow him inside the house, immediately noting everything is as it must have been on the night Sara disappeared.
Before I step over the threshold, Jo points at the decking beneath my feet. “We found Wren there.”
There’s a red stain, undoubtedly her blood from where she’s sustained the head wound, and my own blood simmers at the sight.
“Show me everything.”
* * *
“This has been helpful, Jo. Thank you.”
My old friend grins. “I’m just glad you’re on the same page, Burton. The house, Wren’s statement, and the bullshit about Elliott Porter being on vacation when the hospital had him scheduled to work…” He trails off, throwing his hands up in exasperation.
“I’ll get a team on it.” My voice is firm, wholly sure there’s a cover-up of some shape or form in place, and I need to get to the bottom of it for the sake of all involved.
He expels a deep sigh. “You have no idea what that means, Vaughn. I only wanted to…” He trails off with a shake of his head. “It doesn’t seem to matter how good your intentions are when you’re a nobody.”
“And that’s why I outsource, my friend.” We share a bemused grin before he straightens. “We’ll talk soon, Jo.”
A slightly less weary Detective Fratelli nods once before shutting the passenger door of my Bugatti, and I pull out onto the almost empty evening street.
My next stop is Zephyr, the gallery Wren works at with her friend, Matt, nephew of the elusive Dr. Porter, except when I arrive, there’s no sign of him.
A tall, elegant woman is leafing through pages when I step inside the immaculate space.
“I’m afraid we’re closing, sir.”
I hold up my palms with what Iknowis a charming grin. “So sorry to intrude.”
Her lips twitch despite herself, and she stands, walking closer with a heavily accentuated sway of her hips. “If there’s something you like…” She looks up at me from beneath dark lashes. “All you need to do is say the word, Mr.…”
I extend my right hand, allowing my smile to grow enough to hint at my dimples. “Burton. Vaughn Burton.”
“Delilah Porter. Delighted to make your acquaintance.” She gently grips my proffered hand with a purposefully shy smile. “Is there anything in particular that drew you to my gallery today?”
Bingo!
“Actually, yes. I’m looking for your brother, Elliott—”
“Eli is my brother-in-law, Mr. Burton.” She hastily cuts me off, her cheeks heating as she tugs her hand from my grasp. “He’s out of town. And now, if you’ll excuse me, we’reclosed.”
Then, without a word, she turns and retreats into some sort of staff area, leaving me to glance around the work area that, from what information Ford garnered, Wren adores. It’s second rate at best, but she deserves something as exceptional as she is.
I make a mental note to look into spaces for her own gallery before I dial Fratelli as I exit South Brook, driving toward the city with one final stop to make. Once I’ve relayed my encounter with Delilah Porter, we both agree she’s someone who merits looking into.
“I’ll contact Ford and have him reach out once he’s compiled a full background check of the Porters.”
