by Jenna Kernan
With Darnell’s assistance, Nadine retrieved the number and made the call. Then all but the sheriff made their exit. Demko paused at the door.
“Mr. Darnell, we will be in touch.”
And Nadine saw something then, a widening of the eyes as if he found the prospect of another contact with authorities as a threat. Then he noted her watching and dropped his gaze.
Nadine lingered. Darnell reached for a cigarette, his hands shaking. It might be nothing, a normal reaction to having his wife’s death investigated. Certainly, he’d just had his worst fears realized. Likely he was heartbroken, trying to hold it together until they left.
“What do I do about her will and stuff?” asked Darnell. “Call a lawyer?”
Nadine’s eyes narrowed. That was definitely not what should be on the mind of a worried husband upon notification of death. She and Demko exchanged a knowing look.
“Perhaps start with a funeral director?” said Demko.
“Or Nikki’s parents?” she suggested.
“I can’t. They haven’t spoken to me since we got engaged.” He glanced to Nadine. “Could you tell them?”
“Of course,” said Nadine.
Darnell took a long drag on the cigarette and blew the smoke toward the ceiling.
Skogen had headed back to his vehicle as Nadine and Demko reached the SUV. She settled inside and he got them under way.
“What was your take on him?” Demko asked.
“Fairly normal until you told him we’d be back. That made him apprehensive, which could be natural. Police make people nervous. But that comment about the will. That wasn’t normal.”
“Yeah. I agree,” said Demko.
She clipped her seat belt. “I’d like to speak to Nikki Darnell’s parents, the Millers. See what they have to say about their son-in-law. Before they read it in the papers.”
“We can head over there now.”
“Not alone.”
“I’ll bring a uniform with me.”
“Hadn’t we better tell Skogen?”
“He’s already made his decision. Doing the minimum, contacting her husband as next of kin. But if it were my kid, I’d like to hear it from a father instead of reading it in the headlines.”
“Let’s go. If it’s my idea, Skogen can’t object.”
They drove through a downpour, reaching the offices of C.L. Miller Developers as the rain tapered off just before five in the afternoon.
They were met in the lobby by the uniformed officer Demko had requested. At the management company suite, Demko’s detective’s shield got them past Mr. Miller’s assistant.
Miller stood as they entered a large office filled with heavy dark furniture. Models of building projects sat on the sideboard and framed artists’ renderings filled the walls. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows stood expansive views of other high-rise buildings in Orlando’s business center.
Clem Miller looked like his photos, which appeared on most advertising for his company. He was tan, fit with vibrant blond hair, out of place for a man in his mid-fifties. He ushered them into his posh office.
Miller rounded his desk, hand extended. “Detective, how can I help you?”
Demko motioned to the seating area, six high-backed office chairs ringing a round table with ornately carved legs, like bandits circling a wagon train.
“Could we sit?”
They did. Demko introduced Nadine and then asked Miller when he had last been in contact with his daughter. The man went scarlet. He blustered and blew, reminding Nadine of a bull preparing to charge.
“We’ve severed ties,” he said at last.
“Because of her decision to marry?”
“Detective, I’m not going to discuss personal affairs with you.”
“I see.”
Nadine knew that would be changing because, although the FBI had deemed it unnecessary to notify the Millers immediately, they would likely soon be interviewing them.
“Is your wife here? I understand she works with you.”
“She’s not. Detective, what is this about?”
“Sir, I’m assisting the FBI with a homicide investigation. We’ve made a positive identification on one of two victims.”
“The bodies at the river?”
“Yes, sir. I’m very sorry to inform you that one of those victims was your daughter.”
He had gone pale and his lips were suddenly bloodless and gray.
“It’s a mistake.”
“No, Mr. Miller. We have DNA confirmation and have a positive identification on Nikki Darnell.”
“Don’t call her that! It’s Nikki Miller!” He was on his feet now. A shove sent the chair crashing into the credenza, toppling a statue of a dancer.
“Mr. Miller, I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“I knew that guy was trouble. It’s him, isn’t it? That low-life, moneygrubbing excuse for a man. He did this!” He turned toward the door.
The young officer looked to Demko, who held out a hand.
When Demko spoke, it was with a tone of authority Nadine had never heard.
“Sir, you need to sit right now.”
Miller gave him a look of outrage but then retrieved his chair and sat.
“He’s not getting a penny,” he said. “I’ll see he’s locked up for the rest of his life.”
“You have some reason to believe that Roger Darnell would harm your daughter?”
“He tried to get me to buy them a house. He hinted he needed a new truck. Even asked me to hire him on one of my building projects. As if I would ever… The man is a parasite. It’s why I cut her off. Now he’ll be after the insurance money,” he said to himself and then pointed at Demko. “He won’t get it.”
“Did he have a policy on Nikki?”
“No! Hell no. He couldn’t afford to get his truck fixed. I’ve got the policy. Oh, no, the trust.”
“Trust?” asked Demko.
“I put her shares of my company in a trust so he couldn’t get at them. But…”
He didn’t need to finish. Those shares were likely now part of Nikki’s estate and without a will, they would eventually pass to her husband.
Nadine broke in here. “Mr. Miller, I’m very sorry for your loss, but I wonder if you might need to contact your wife before this story breaks. I’m sure it would be better if she heard it from the detective or from you.”
He was on his feet again. “This will just kill her.” He reached for the phone and hit the intercom button. “Rebecca, find my wife. Get her here and tell her it’s urgent.” He paused, listening. “I don’t care where she is. Send someone and get her here now!”
Off the phone now, he paced before them.
“Mr. Miller, I need to get a better picture of Nikki,” said Nadine. “I’d like to interview you and your wife. It will help our investigation.”
Miller raked a hand through his thick hair. “Yes. Ask Rebecca. She’ll schedule it.”
“Fine. Mr. Miller, I am truly sorry for your loss.”
Miller pressed his mouth into a tight line. But tears now coursed down his face as grief overcame fury, at last.
“Do you have any questions for me?” asked Demko.
“Questions? Hell no. My God. I knew something terrible… I should have…” He lifted his gaze to the pair of them.
Demko placed his card on the table and she did the same. They stood in unison.
“Officer Gaines will stay here until your wife arrives. If you have questions, please call.”
Nadine nearly reached the door when Miller spoke.
“Dr. Finch, you find who did this to my little girl.”
“Yes, sir. That’s what I’m here for.”
In the outer office, they stopped to schedule a meeting for the following day, then left the building. Back in the SUV, they drove in silence to the highway.
“What do you think?” asked Demko.
“Being after his wife’s money doesn’t make him a killer.”
“Doesn’t el
iminate him either.”
“True. I’ve got to tell Skogen.”
Nadine and Demko made it to the hotel after eight, due to the perpetual tie-ups on I-4. She’d had a brief conversation with Skogen on their visit with the Millers en route and just received a text from Juliette that she and Tina waited in the lobby.
Tina, now wearing a yellow sundress, her makeup flawless and including false eyelashes, looked younger than her twenty-one years. Juliette, by contrast, wore jeans, cowboy boots and a paisley peasant blouse. Her only makeup was mascara and a tinted lip gloss, scented with mint, Nadine knew, because it helped mask the smell of the bodies she dissected. She wore a cross-body bag large enough for a phone, wallet and her handgun.
“We waited on dinner for you,” said Tina. “Reservation at a Caribbean place.”
“We had appetizers at the tiki bar. But I’m starving again,” admitted Juliette.
“Great. Let’s go,” said Nadine. But Juliette didn’t move.
“We got a hit on the second victim.”
Five
“The lab has DNA to verify,” said Juliette, “but we believe we know her name. It’s Rita Karnowski.”
“I recognize that name,” said Demko. “Sheriff’s office gave me a list of all known missing persons. Her boyfriend reported she disappeared during a hike. Right?”
“Yes. On March 20th. One of Skogen’s team called to tell us they made a match on a tattoo. The parents at first denied she had a tattoo, but the older brother came forward this afternoon. It’s a match. They were at the ME’s office and made the identification.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” asked Nadine.
“I called Tina. She told me where you were.”
“And she fits with our time of death?” asked Demko.
“Sure does,” said Juliette.
“They contacted the boyfriend yet?” asked Demko.
“I’ll find out.” Nadine drew out her phone.
In a moment she’d sent a text to Skogen, then waited the endless seconds for the chime notification of his reply.
She read his text aloud.
Heading to Hugo Betters residence. Meet us. We’ll wait.
He furnished the address of Betters, Rita’s boyfriend.
Demko drove and they met Skogen and the sheriff at a single-family, squatty cinder-block box with a double carport larger than the building. The only vehicle present was a Camaro missing an engine.
The house was dark and the window A/C unit wasn’t running.
“You sure this is the right house?” asked Demko.
The sheriff nodded and made the approach. Unsurprisingly, there was no answer.
“Did you try his phone?” asked Nadine. Death notifications were done in person when possible, but the phone was better than nothing.
“We did. No answer and no voicemail,” said Skogen.
“What about his work?” asked Demko.
“He’s a subcontractor. Electrician. Working several jobs. We’re trying to pin down his current location.”
Skogen rested his hands on his hips, glaring as the sheriff tucked his card in the gap of the screen door and frame.
“We’ll keep trying the number,” said the sheriff. “And call some of the contractors I know are building in the area.”
Nadine didn’t like leaving a death notification, but it was Skogen’s call.
He nodded and told Nadine he’d see her back at their temporary office.
At Demko’s vehicle she sighed.
“So… dinner?” said Demko.
Nadine hung back. “I need to add Karnowski to my profile. Begin gathering details on—”
Demko cut her off. “You need to eat.”
She nodded, accepting defeat, and climbed into his vehicle.
“I sent Juliette a text. She just got back to the hotel. We’ll pick her and Tina up on the way.”
Nadine said nothing. She was itching to get back to work. Both victims identified. There was so much to do.
“Maybe Skogen will locate Darnell while you eat.”
At the restaurant, they stepped into cool air-conditioning in the lively, pink-and-turquoise-decorated interior. In the corner, a lone musician worked a set of steel drums. Her stomach growled at the smell of the Caribbean and American food. With a jolt, Nadine thought of the two young women who’d never again go out for a casual meal with friends or enjoy the atmosphere of a relaxed restaurant. But the best she could do for them was to stop this killer before he tore apart the lives of another family.
At the hostess station they were greeted by a spunky young woman who seated them at a great table in the center of the busy room. Nadine was thrilled that she had never been there before, so she could enjoy her meal without the shadows of the past encroaching.
Demko told the hostess that they were in a hurry and she took their order, instead of waiting for the server. Nadine’s cheeseburger and fries were a big, delicious mess and she ate the entire thing.
“How’s Molly?” Tina asked Demko.
“Good! A little confused at the change of residence. But I took her to a dog sitter today. The woman has a four-year-old shepherd and a golden retriever. Molly is in heaven!”
“That’s nice. My cat spent the day under my bed. But I’m sure Muffin will adjust. I’m keeping the maid out for now.”
“Wise,” said Juliette. “Jack-Jack is welcome in the lobby when Rosie is there. She’ll watch over him and their little gal, Petunia.”
“I saw some of the kids talking to Jack-Jack,” said Tina.
“Yeah, he had a busier day than I did.”
At last, everyone had eaten their fill.
“That was great,” said Juliette, dropping her napkin beside her empty plate.
It was the first real sit-down meal Nadine had had since leaving DC. She was finally full but had yet to relax.
That would come only after they caught this unsub. She knew this sort of killer. He was just getting started and finding him would take all of them.
She glanced about at her team. She’d never led a team and felt suddenly grateful and terrified.
“I think we should swing by the body dump,” said Demko, bringing the conversation back to the case.
“At night?” croaked Tina.
“That’s likely when the killer was there. Might help Nadine with her profile.”
They turned their attention to her.
She was itching to get back to her laptop and the new details on their victims, but this also had value.
“Yes. Anything that will help us find this killer.”
“Ready?” asked Juliette.
Tina reached for her margarita, draining the remains in two swallows.
“Now I’m ready.”
“Bathroom,” said Juliette.
“Good idea.”
The two headed out, leaving Demko and Nadine momentarily alone in the crowded restaurant.
Nadine received the bill from their server and calculated the tip as Demko finished his final onion ring.
His hand went to his napkin and then to her knee. The zip of attraction sparked, and she met his gaze. There was no misinterpreting that look. Nadine’s pulse jumped as she returned his smile.
“Can I come up to your room tonight?”
“You’re the one with the king-sized bed.”
“Great. You come to my room.” He grinned. “See you later then.”
Juliette and Tina returned as they reached the servers’ station. Tina’s face had gone pale and she was sweating.
Nadine recalled that Tina’s mother’s victim had been found in a shallow grave. The prospect of seeing this body dump might be touching off all sorts of emotional reactions.
“You okay, Tina?” asked Nadine.
Tina pressed her mouth tight and gave a vigorous nod.
“We can swing by the hotel. Drop you off.”
“No you won’t! I’m going, too.”
“Not necessary,” said Demko.
“I’m pa
rt of this team,” she said, her expression stubborn.
Demko sighed and motioned toward the door. When they reached the exit, their hostess cast them a ready smile.
“You folks have a good meal?”
“Yes, very good,” said Demko.
“That’s fine! Y’all come back and see us.”
Their affable hostess wished them a great evening and waved them out.
Ten minutes later, they had left Ocala behind and headed, in Demko’s SUV, toward the St. Johns River, leaving streetlights behind.
On the way, Juliette told them everything she could remember about Rita Karnowski.
“She enjoyed the outdoors. She and her boyfriend… oh, what’s his name?”
“Hugo Betters,” supplied Demko.
“Right. Kayaked on Saturday morning.”
“Big Water Marina,” said Demko.
“Then you tell it,” said Juliette.
Clearly, he knew every missing person’s case better than any of them. Nadine recalled the name, but she’d need the files to refresh her memory.
“After eating at Big River on Saturday, March 20th, they headed to a hiking trail. Hoping to see some wildlife. She’s a transplant from up north.”
“Michigan,” said Juliette.
“Yes. Very interested in the spring migration.”
“You got this all from her file?” asked Nadine.
“I’ve spoken by phone to her parents,” said Demko.
“When?”
“This morning.”
Skogen was not going to like that, she thought.
“Before the ID?”
He nodded.
“You speak to the boyfriend?” she asked.
“Not yet.”
“Because…”
“Until Skogen clears him, he’s likely to be a suspect.”
“What about Nikki Darnell’s husband?” asked Juliette. “What did you think of him?”
“There’s a big range of emotional reactions when confronting the death of a loved one. But his seemed rehearsed.”
Demko took up the conversation again. “And her father has indicated there is insurance money. Ask Skogen to see if her husband also has a policy on his wife. Request Darnell’s computers and check what he’s been searching on the internet. If he and his wife used the same one, it will be part of the investigation.”
