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“You know nothing about the second murder, and yet you still believe Piper Zimmer’s death is connected to Bella Kadel’s case.” Hartley’s smile broadened as he shifted so that his back was to the brunt of the cold wind coming off the churning waters. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
Brook chose not to confirm nor deny his assumption.
“The plastic bag used in the Zimmer case doesn’t match the one used on Bella Piper. Different brand, in case you’re wondering. The chain used to secure the bag over Kadel’s head was silver, while Zimmer’s was gold. I specifically held back the type of chain used in last year’s press release. No one other than the police and the killer know that the links used in the first murder were silver.” Detective Hartley held up a hand when Brook would have addressed his comment. “There were also signs of tampering on Zimmer’s bedroom window. Everything points to a copycat killer.”
“I’m sure that I don’t need to tell you that copycat killers generally do so for the notoriety. Yes, some do mimic specific murders to cover their own tracks,” Brook admitted as she curled her fingers into the palms of her hands for some additional warmth. “My team and I actually dealt with that on our last case.”
“Yes, the one in the Smoky Mountains,” Detective Hartley said with a nod of familiarity. “I saw the news conference regarding the father’s upcoming trial.”
“There will be no trial,” Brook informed him, having heard from the prosecuting attorney himself regarding her previous case. “The victim’s father took a plea deal with no time served. Getting back to the topic at hand, I’m not here to interfere with your department. I have no jurisdiction here. Should you change your mind and want our assistance on either case, all you have to do is ask.”
Detective Hartley whistled long and loud to indicate that he’d received her message loud and clear. There were only two ways that he could handle the situation, and she’d just left the ball in his court. He’d taken the conversation exactly how she’d wanted him to take it, and he didn’t strike her as a man who wanted to be proven wrong.
“Fine, Sloane.” Hartley’s breath was visible from his sigh of resignation. He once again slipped his hands inside the pockets of his coat. “Make your pitch.”
“I don’t need to pitch you anything, Detective Hartley. My firm’s credentials speak for themselves.” Brook reached into the small decorative pocket on her suit jacket where she always kept a business card on hand. She held it out to him, forcing him to take it. “Call me if you’d like to share information. Have a good day.”
Brook turned and began to make her way across the deck. She hadn’t expected to get very far. Hartley wasn’t a man to pass up pertinent information, regardless of where it came from, especially if it could advance his position within the department. She’d taken time to look over his qualifications and work history, and Arden had been right about the detective gunning for the position of chief.
“Cut to the chase, Sloane. What do you have?”
“The items used to secure the plastic bags over your victims’ heads aren’t regular chains,” Brook said after she had turned around. She didn’t bother to close the distance between them. He could hear her just fine, and she didn’t plan to spend one second longer out in the frigid weather than was absolutely necessary. “They are belts. Women’s belts. Apparently, chain belts are a new trend in fashion these days.”
Detective Hartley was already shaking his head in disagreement.
“Then you didn’t look close enough at the pictures taken at the crime scenes or of the evidence after it was collected from the bodies. There are several photographs that display the chains at different angles. There are no clasps. Those chains are not belts.”
“Those chainsarebelts,” Brook stated matter-of-factly. She then gave him the name of two New York designers who had introduced the accessories into the fashion world. Now that she had the detective’s complete attention, she revealed another vital part of her profile. “And your killer? You should be searching for a woman between the ages of twenty-five and thirty-five. I’ll be expecting your call, Detective Hartley. Have a nice day.”
Chapter Seven
Theo Neville
December 2023
Monday — 2:02pm
Thewintersuncasta pale glow over downtown Harbor. The faint golden rays glinted off the frosted windows of the quaint storefronts. The crisp December air carried a hint of spiced apple cider from a nearby café, but it was mingled with the faint tang of saltwater carried in from the bay. The gentle lapping of waves against the docks provided a rhythmic soundtrack to the cheerful bustle of the holiday shoppers. Strings of twinkling lights adorned the eaves and gables of each building, and their soft glow illuminated the festive window displays of wreaths, ornaments, and carefully wrapped gifts.
Theo was glad that Arden had invited everyone in the office to participate in hanging the decorations and setting up the Christmas tree in the main foyer of S&E Investigations’ offices. The entire team, including Brook, had taken time away from their computers to partake in the festivities, and the blend of holiday music had them all laughing by the end of the morning. As for Arden’s caramel hot chocolate and blueberry scones, no one had ended up having lunch on Saturday. Theo wasn’t usually one to partake in so much sugar in so few hours, but it was a morning that had made his memory book.
Opening the door to Harbor Art Gallery, the warmth of the heated interior brought with it a hint of varnish. It wasn’t an unpleasant odor, by any means. The polished wooden floors gleamed from the overhead artificial lights, and there was an eclectic collection of paintings and photographs on the walls. Some of them had been elegantly framed and lit by carefully positioned spotlights. Others were simple canvases, and then there were the sleek sculptures and delicate glasswork that had been set upon pedestals throughout the large space.
“Welcome to Harbor Art Gallery.” The polite greeting had come from a young woman in her mid-twenties. She was wearing a long black skirt with a slit up the side that displayed her cream boots. The matching silk blouse was tied at her waist with a large bow on her right hip. She could have been a model for one of the paintings that she’d been hired to sell. “My name is Sophia. May I help you find something specific? A gift for someone special, perhaps?”
“Actually, I was hoping to ask you some questions regarding a former employee by the name of Bella Kadel.” Theo’s attention was briefly caught by a particularly captivating photograph of the bay at sunset. His mother was fond of photography, and he was sure that she would enjoy such a treasure. He just might take Sophia up on her offer to purchase a painting before the holidays. Getting back to the business at hand, he held up his credentials. “My name is Theo Neville. Lorelei Jameson has hired my firm to investigate her sister’s murder. It’s my understanding that Bella was employed by Harbor Art Gallery.”
Sophia’s deep blue eyes softened upon hearing the victim’s name.
“Bella,” Sophia said softly in remembrance. Her long, wavy brown hair cascaded over her shoulders as she looked down at her hands as if they contained fond memories. She blinked a few times before meeting his gaze. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about her. I was initially hired to be her assistant. Is it true that the same guy who killed Bella killed Piper Zimmer?”
“That is a question for your local police department.” Theo would have preferred to ask who she’d heard such rumors from, but he was confident there would be several opportunities for him to do so. “You mentioned that you were originally hired to be Bella’s assistant. How long did you work with her?”
“I was hired around six months before she…”
“What can you tell me about Bella?” Theo asked gently as he folded the leather case holding his credentials and tucked it back into the pocket of his coat. “Was she well liked? Friendly? Reserved? Hard to work with?”
Theo had attempted to cover all the bases, but Sophia seemed more than willing to speak with him. He motioned that they could walk around the gallery while they talked, and his offer appeared to put her even more at ease.
