Dead in Her Tracks (Rogue Winter #2)(5)

“Yep. Dana and Tony. He’s the stepdad, I believe. He’s been in a few times. Usually on a drunk and disorderly.”

“We have his prints?”

“No doubt,” said Kenny. “He’s a hothead. You think he killed Bob?” His voice cracked as his eyes grew wide.

Zane counted to ten. “I don’t know. Bob killed their daughter, so I’ll be talking with them. But first I need to call the police department of Vanessa Phillips’s hometown and have them notify her parents.”

It was a phone call he didn’t want to make. Christmas would never be the same for Vanessa Phillips’s family.



Late that evening Stevie looked up from Sheila’s desk as her brother James stepped through the front door of the police station. His expression rivaled one of Ebenezer Scrooge’s.

“What the hell is going on, Stevie?” James said. He stomped the snow off his boots and unwrapped his scarf. “It’s Christmas.”

“I know.” The morgue crew had finally removed Bob’s body, and she’d spent a few hours collecting more evidence and cleaning up the holding cell. It’d been too much blood for her stomach. The human body could hold a lot of blood and it appeared most of Bob’s had ended up on the floor. Her happy, family-filled morning felt like it had occurred months ago.

“Six townspeople have called me,” James stated. “I’ve tried to control the gossip, but you know how it gets. One of them said they heard the girl at the hotel was killed in a satanic ritual.” He rolled his eyes. “You should have heard him. He was more upset that I’d allowed the occult in our town instead of expressing some concern for that girl and her family. No family needs this to happen on any day, especially Christmas.”

“I hope you set him straight, Mr. Mayor.”

“Damn right I did.” Her brother paused and took a deep breath. “Tell me what happened.”

Stevie gave him an abbreviated version of the deaths.

“You said Vanessa Phillips was from the coast? And attended college up in Eugene?” he asked.

“Graduate studies in fish and wildlife.”

“Why was she staying at the Wayward Motel?” James shook his head. “That’s not a good place for a single female.”

“I can understand her stopping for one night if she was on a tight budget,” said Stevie. “But why four? Her parents live less than an hour from here. She could have made it home in one trip.”

“Maybe she’d planned to visit the fish hatchery up the river or do some sort of research. This would be the right location for her area of study,” said James. “I assume you asked Charlie if she was alone?”

“We have. She was alone and Kenny went back there to interview the other motel guests. Someone besides Charlie must have seen her that first day.”

“Hey, James.” Zane appeared from his office. “Your boys come off their holiday sugar high yet?”

“That’s part of the reason I left the house. Debra can tune them out, but I can’t hear myself think. And like I was telling Stevie . . . I’m getting calls, and I don’t want my kids to hear me discuss murder on the phone. What do you want me to tell people?”

“Tell them the investigation is ongoing,” answered Zane, his face carefully blank.

“Come on, Zane. They’re making up their own stories and it’s getting out of hand. I need something with a little more meat to throw them.”

Zane folded his arms. “No comment.”

Both men looked at Stevie.

“Don’t pull me into the middle of this,” she ordered. James might be her big brother and the mayor, but police business fell firmly under Zane’s jurisdiction.

“Vanessa Phillips’s parents are going to be here any minute,” said Zane.

“They drove in during this horrible weather?” said James. “Surely you could have just talked to them on the phone?”

“They insisted,” said Stevie. Zane had notified the Phillipses’ hometown police office and asked them to inform the parents in person about the death of their daughter. Understandably they’d been devastated, but had wanted to travel to Solitude to be close to their daughter, relying on one of Vanessa’s siblings to drive them.

“Who else are you interviewing for the Phillips murder?” James asked.

“Do you have a suggestion?” Zane’s voice was cool, and Stevie knew he felt her brother was stepping over his mayoral bounds.

James realized his mistake and held up his hands. “Forget it. Do your thing and keep me updated. I’ll let you know what I hear through the city grapevine.”

“Tell people not to jump to conclusions,” said Stevie, knowing her words were pointless. Gossip and speculation were dietary proteins for small rural towns like Solitude. James rolled his eyes.

Small Town Rule #3: No one gossips about people’s virtues.

“I’ll be in my office for a while if you need me,” said James, heading toward the back door that led to the city council annex.

Stevie glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly eight p.m. “I feel like this day should have been finished twelve hours ago. I really wish the Phillipses had waited until tomorrow. I’d like to have more information to give them.” So far, heartache and apologies were all Solitude had to share with them.