Which left the main bedroom.
She clicked off her flashlight. Moonlight lit the hall, and she didn’t want the beam to make her a clear target to someone hiding in a dark corner. She crossed the landing and put a shoulder to the doorframe. Angling her body for the best cover, she peered inside. Her eyes had adjusted to the dimness, and she could see half the room. Clear. Simultaneously stepping through the doorway and turning, she cleared the blind spot. A closet door stood open, and Bree used her flashlight to check inside. Grateful that Shannon’s closet was neat, she shined the beam along the floor to make sure no one was hiding under the hanging clothes.
Only one closed door remained, which she assumed was the en suite bath.
Bree stood on one side of the door, her shoulder to the wall, her gun braced in front of her body. “Shannon?”
The dog barked, followed by Shannon’s voice, high-pitched and frantic. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Who’s there?”
Bree called out, “Shannon, it’s Sheriff Taggert. Are you all right?”
“Yes,” came the shaky response.
The siren came closer.
“You can come out now.” Bree moved back and waited. What if the intruder was in the bathroom with Shannon, forcing her to answer? “Please keep your hands where I can see them.”
The door opened slowly. Bree’s breath caught in her throat as she waited, gun in hand.
“I have a gun.” Shannon stepped out. She clutched her little dog against her chest with one hand. In her other, she carried a small revolver.
“Put the gun on the floor and step away from it.” Bree motioned her to step aside. “Is the weapon registered?”
“Yes.” Shannon followed Bree’s instructions.
Bree approached, picking up the revolver and putting it in her pocket. Then she checked in the bathroom. The large shower, garden tub, and linen closet were all clear.
“A couple of minutes after I talked to you, the dog started barking. Then the lights went out, and I heard someone moving around downstairs.” Shannon’s words tumbled over each other. She wore yoga pants and a T-shirt. Her feet were bare. Without the revolver, she looked vulnerable. The dog growled. “I was afraid to use my phone. I didn’t want them to hear. I locked us in the bathroom.”
“That was smart.” Bree holstered her gun. “Let’s go outside.”
Bree herded Shannon to the front of the house. Red and blue lights swirled as a sheriff’s car parked at the base of the driveway. Bree opened the front door and led the way onto the porch. She lifted a hand to acknowledge the deputy getting out of his vehicle, then turned to Shannon. “Do you keep your gate open or closed?”
“Closed and locked.” Shannon moved quietly on bare feet.
The intruder was probably long gone. Why was Shannon a target, and was tonight’s break-in related to Holly’s murder?
CHAPTER TWELVE
Matt brought his SUV to a short stop behind a deputy’s vehicle. He saw Bree standing on the porch of Shannon’s house, in jeans and a Kevlar vest. The air rushed from his lungs.
She’s OK.
He’d known she wouldn’t wait for him or backup, not when Shannon’s life could be in danger. Bree wasn’t reckless, but she would always put the safety of others before her own.
He grabbed his large metal flashlight from the door compartment and leaped out.
His eyes met Bree’s. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” But the set of her shoulders was tense. Bree waved the deputy and Matt closer. They met in the driveway. “Deputy, please stay with Ms. Phelps. Matt, you’re with me.”
Matt fell into step beside her. “You’re not giving me a gun, so you think the intruder is gone?”
She nodded. “The house is clear. I suspect the intruder went out the back door when he or she heard me arrive.”
They walked along the side of the house. Matt stopped and pointed to a window. The glass had been cut away. The extracted pane sat on the grass leaning against the house.
Matt rose onto his toes to look through the window into the garage. Inside, a lawn mower stood next to a black Ford Escape. Other tools and supplies were stacked in the corner. “Looks like he or she went in this way.”
They moved through the side yard. Bree pointed to Shannon’s gate, which stood open. Shannon’s neighbors didn’t have fences. Matt and Bree jogged along the fence line. At the end of Shannon’s property, Matt shined his flashlight on the ground. A path of crushed grass led through the neighbor’s lawn. “The vegetation is too thick to show actual footprints.”
The rear neighbor’s yard was wide open. Bree could see the street on the other side of the property. “The intruder could have parked over there and walked across the grass to Shannon’s house.”
They walked from Shannon’s yard to the street but saw no footprints. The rear neighbor’s house was dark and empty-looking. Bree and Matt walked back to Shannon’s house. She stood in the driveway with the deputy.
“Is the neighbor behind you home?” Bree jerked a thumb in the direction of the house.
“No,” Shannon said. “There’s usually a boat parked next to the house. It’s not there, so I think they must be on vacation.”
So, no one was home to report a strange car parked there.
“I want to check something,” Bree said.
Matt followed her to Shannon’s garage. They passed a hedge trimmer and other yard tools. Some two-by-fours and sheets of plywood were stacked next to a toolbox, some small gardening tools, and a box of random junk. Bree went to the breaker box in the corner and opened the door.
Matt aimed his flashlight on the box. The main breaker had been thrown.
“They turned off the power.” He flipped the switch, and the power came back on with the hum of appliances. The alarm system began to blare. They went back into the house and confirmed the lights were on. They returned to the driveway, where Shannon was scrolling on her phone. “As soon as the Wi-Fi resets, I can turn it off.” She tapped on the screen. The alarm went silent.
“I need a better alarm system.” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “It was the cheapest one. My budget was tight when I bought the house.”
“Does it have battery backup?” Matt asked.
Shannon lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know.”
So, that’s probably a no.
Matt glanced back at the house. “Is the door between the house and the garage alarmed?”
Shannon shook her head. “No, I was trying to save some money. It seemed redundant since they put contacts on the window and the overhead door has an electric opener.”
“Overhead doors are not that hard to break into.” Bree holstered her gun. “But it looks like the intruder entered through the garage window.”
Shannon looked confused.
“The contacts are magnets,” Matt explained. “They are placed on the frame and window to line up when the window is closed. The alarm goes off if the contact between those magnets is broken. So, they only work if a window is forced open. Your intruder cut out the whole pane of glass. He didn’t open the window frame or disturb the contact between the two magnets.”
Shannon’s jaw dropped. “I never thought of that.”
Matt didn’t believe security systems were something that should be purchased with a Groupon. Whoever had sold her the security system should have explained it better. Criminals were very resourceful.
He continued. “You should ask your alarm company about adding battery backup and cellular monitoring to protect you in case of power outages. Also, you should have the door between the house and the garage alarmed.”
“OK.” Shannon’s voice was weak. “I didn’t even keep that door locked before tonight, but I will from now on.”
Bree turned toward her deputy. “Dust the garage windowsill and glass for prints. Then come inside and dust the door handles to the interior garage door and the french doors off the kitchen.” She turned back to Shannon. “I need you to walk through the house a
nd tell us if anything is missing. Please don’t touch anything. I don’t want you to disturb any fingerprints.”
Shannon shoved her hair back with shaking hands. “Yes, of course.”
Her steps were hesitant as she led the way into the house. Matt and Bree flanked her. Shannon toured the living and dining rooms, then moved toward the kitchen at the back of the house. She stopped in the middle of the room, turning and scanning her surroundings. “So far, everything looks normal.”
“Did anything else unusual happen tonight?” Bree asked.
Shannon brushed a curl off her forehead. “I got a phone call from a reporter wanting to interview me about Holly’s death. I told him no.”
“Unless you recognize a caller, you should let your voice mail pick up for a while,” Matt suggested. “Reporters can be relentless.”
“OK.” Shannon stared at the kitchen island. Her hands went to her face, and her mouth opened in a short, shocked gasp.
Bree’s hand shot to the weapon on her hip. “What is it?”
Shannon pointed toward the sink, her hand trembling.
The sink was full of water. In it, a six-inch doll floated facedown.
Matt’s gut twisted. He walked closer and inspected the small blonde doll. Its straight hair looked like it had been roughly snipped to shoulder length.
Both the position and hair matched how they’d found Holly Thorpe’s body in the river.
Sick.
Shannon stared at the sink, her face drawn. Her legs looked wobbly, and she reached for the corner of the island to steady herself. She drew in a sharp breath.
Bree took her elbow and steered her toward the couch. “Breathe.”
Shannon gasped. “Why would anyone do that?”
To terrorize you.
Bree crouched in front of her. “Do you know why anyone would want to scare you?”
Shannon shook her head hard. Her face was pale. “What am I going to do? I can’t go to my mom’s house until I get rid of this stupid cold, and I wouldn’t want to draw any danger to her anyway. Without Holly’s help with Mom’s bills, I can’t afford a hotel.”
Bree said, “I’m going to have a deputy park out front for the rest of the night. Tomorrow, you should call your alarm company and have your security system beefed up.”
“I will,” Shannon said.
The deputy came into the house with his fingerprint kit. “No clear prints on the windowsill or glass.” He went to the french doors, knelt, and set down his kit.
“Do the kitchen faucet too.” Bree moved toward the front door.
Matt thought that anyone smart enough to circumvent Shannon’s alarm system was also smart enough to wear gloves, but procedure needed to be followed.
“I’ll be right back.” Bree disappeared down the hallway and returned a minute later carrying the small point-and-shoot camera she kept in her glove compartment. She began taking pictures of the doll in the sink.
“I’ll board up your garage window. I saw some plywood out there.” Matt returned to the garage and secured the window.
He went back inside the house. The deputy was finishing dusting for prints. Matt toured the house, checking every window and door to make sure it was locked. When he walked into the family room, Shannon was still on the sofa. She hadn’t even changed position.
Bree sat on an ottoman, a small notepad balanced on her knee. “Do you have any idea why someone would break into your house?”
“No.” Shannon chewed on her thumbnail.
“Could Holly have left something here?” Bree asked.
Shannon lowered her hand and picked at her cuticle. “I don’t think so. I cleaned the guest room after she stayed with me last. I didn’t find anything.”
“Do you mind if I look?” Bree stood.
Shannon shook her head. “Go ahead.”
Bree strode down the hall. As Matt checked the french doors, he heard her footsteps overhead. She returned in just a couple of minutes. Their eyes met. She shook her head. “There’s nothing up there. Dresser and closet are empty.”
“I don’t even use that room for storage,” Shannon said. “Holly was the only one who used it.”
“I have one more question for you.” Bree stopped in front of Shannon. “How did Holly pay for your mother’s medical bills?”
“She paid the nursing service about a thousand a month directly. She reimbursed me the remaining fifteen hundred in cash.” Shannon folded her hands in her lap.
Matt double-checked a window lock and turned toward her. “She gave you cash? She didn’t write a check or use an app?”
Shannon’s face went blank. “No.”
“You didn’t think that was odd that your sister gave you fifteen hundred dollars in cash?” Bree asked.
Shannon shrugged. “Holly said she sold some of her designer clothes and purses. I didn’t think much of it. She liked to shop, even when she couldn’t afford it.”
Matt and Bree shared a look. It was doubtful that Holly had made that much money selling secondhand clothes, even designer labels.
Shannon raised teary eyes and waved a hand in the vague direction of her kitchen. “Who would want to scare me like this? I’ve never hurt anybody.”
“I don’t know. Yet.” Bree folded her notepad and stuffed it into her back pocket.
“OK.” Shannon’s voice trembled. She brought her legs onto the couch and wrapped her arms around her knees. She didn’t look reassured.
Bree returned her revolver and bullets. “How long have you owned your gun?”
“About ten years,” Shannon said, pocketing the ammunition.
“How often do you go to the range?” Bree asked.
“Not as often as I should,” Shannon admitted. “It’s been a few months.”
“It’s not much good to you unless you practice,” Bree said.
“I’ll go soon,” Shannon promised.
Bree and Matt left. The deputy settled into his vehicle to keep watch. Outside, Bree got into her SUV and lowered her window. She lifted the evidence bag that contained the doll. Its face was scraped and faded. “It looks old. I doubt we’ll be able to trace its purchase.”
Matt leaned on the open window. The doll was creepy. “Anyone who has or ever had kids could have one of those lying around.”
“Easy enough to find them at garage sales too.” Bree set the bag aside. “I’ll drop it off at the forensics lab and see if the techs can pull trace evidence or fingerprints. Since it was floating in water, I suspect not. But it’s worth a try. You never know what will cling to an object.” She looked up from the doll. “I’ll pick you up in the morning for our meeting with Paul.”
“OK.” Matt didn’t like the circles under her eyes. He would help her however he could. But there was nothing else to be done tonight. He stepped back and gestured toward the house. “This is clearly related to Holly’s murder. Until we find her killer, Shannon isn’t safe.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Matt threw the ball across his backyard. Greta, a black German shepherd he was currently fostering for Cady, tore across the yard like a cannonball. She scooped up the ball midstride, whirled, and raced back to Matt. She dropped it at his feet, backed up, and barked.
“Aren’t you demanding?” Matt snagged the ball from the ground with a lacrosse stick and sent it flying again. Greta streaked after it.
Matt looked down at the tan-and-black German shepherd stretched out behind him in a patch of morning sun. “How long before she tires out?”
Brody yawned and rested his big head on his paws.
“You’re probably right,” Matt said to his dog. “You used to have that much energy.”
Brody rolled onto his side and closed his eyes. Despite his lazy attitude, he missed the work as much as Matt did.
Greta dropped the ball at Matt’s feet and barked. He repeated the lacrosse-stick maneuver, and she raced after the ball again.
“Is she always this energetic?” Bree’s voice sounded behind him.
<
br /> Matt spun around. Bree was leaning on the fence, her gaze tracking the black blur racing on the grass.
“Yes,” he said.
Greta returned. Matt scooped up the ball and commanded her to sit in German. One hundred percent focused on him, the lean black dog obeyed.
“Is that normal?” Bree looked wary, but then, she always did around the big dogs.
Brody stood and stretched. He ambled over to the gate and wagged his tail at Bree. Hesitantly, she reached over the gate and touched his head. Brody sat politely.
“She’s a young and very driven dog, which is why she’ll make a great K-9,” Matt said.
“I can’t get the county commissioners to even talk about money for K-9 training. They keep putting off our budget meeting.”
Matt sighed. “So? You knew this would happen. You planned on it. Cady is determined to place Greta with the sheriff’s department. She’ll make it happen. The fundraiser will be a success.” Ladybug and Greta had both come from Cady’s rescue. “She suggested we host a black-tie casino night. She’s done that in the past, and it worked well for her. Big donors like the publicity. I’ll bring Greta in and show her off.”
Bree gave Greta a doubtful look. “Will she be ready for her performance?”
“She’s gorgeous and smart.” Matt gave the dog a hand signal, and she dropped to her belly. He commanded her to stay.
“She’s impressive,” Bree admitted.
Since they were alone, Matt walked over to Bree and leaned down to give her a proper hello kiss. He lifted his head. “Hi.”
“Hi.” She blinked up at him, her hazel eyes softer and more vulnerable than usual.
“I’ve missed you.” As he said the words, it struck him how true they were.
She rose on her toes and kissed him back. “I’ve missed us.”
Warmth spread through Matt. Bree wasn’t demonstrative. Small gestures and words meant more coming from her than most people. A tragic childhood had taught her to hold her feelings close. But he was chiseling through those walls.
She cleared her throat and stepped back. “When will Greta be ready for training?”
Drown Her Sorrows (Bree Taggert) Page 10
