Wrecked (Josie Gray Mysteries #3)(18)



“Hello?”

“Hi, Eva, this is Josie.”

“Josie! Good to hear from you!”

“It’s good to talk with you too. I’m afraid I’m calling with some bad news though.”

“What’s wrong?” Her tone was instantly guarded.

“Is Steve there with you?”

“He’s here by my side. Oh, no. What’s happened?”

“Have you heard from Dillon either yesterday or today?”

“No. It’s been about a week since we talked. Is he okay?” Josie listened as Eva whispered to Steve, “It’s about Dillon.”

“He didn’t show up to work today. And, he’s not answered my phone calls or messages.”

“I don’t understand. You think he’s left? Gone somewhere?”

Josie closed her eyes, imagining the look of confusion and concern on Eva’s face, and the terror that was soon to come. “We’re not sure yet. I’m afraid the news gets worse.

“Dillon’s secretary, Christina, was murdered. We found her body this morning in the office.”

“Murdered?” she whispered the word.

Steve came on the line. “Josie? What’s going on?” His voice seemed frightened, too loud for the phone.

Josie repeated the details for Dillon’s father. He suggested they fly immediately to Texas, but Josie encouraged them to stay home by the phone until they knew more information. She promised to call them the moment she heard any news about Christina, or Dillon’s whereabouts.





SIX


After talking with Josie, Otto walked through the details of the case with two state troopers from the Texas Department of Public Safety. The officers left the scene to take fingerprints at Christina’s apartment and Dillon’s home, and then to canvass the neighborhood and take statements. The extra support was a huge relief.

At that point, the investigation had two priorities: analyzing the physical details of the crime scene, and searching records—phone transactions, credit card usage, bank account information, billing statements. TV cop shows portrayed retrieving online information as a simple phone call, but the reality included red tape, subpoenas, and waiting.

At this point, a trial was a distant thought, but Otto knew that what might seem like an inconsequential detail early in an investigation could turn into a time bomb in court. He had seen plenty of high-profile cases that made police officers look like bungling idiots. The general public didn’t realize that the details the attorneys spent six months dissecting under a microscope were sometimes processed by an officer in a matter of minutes. It made his blood burn thinking about it.

Worse yet, this investigation was shaping up to have all the characteristics of a big publicity trial: murder, possible kidnapping, sex, and money. Josie wasn’t thinking of herself as a sexual link to the case, but Otto knew that a defense attorney would scrutinize her relationship with Dillon. Any action Josie performed would be perverted by a defense attorney if there was even a slight chance of a not-guilty verdict for the accused.

Sheriff Roy Martínez opened the front door of Dillon’s office building and pulled Otto from his thoughts. Roy had just provided an initial statement to the local media. Once word got out to those outlets, it would spread to the larger news agencies, but Otto would put off dealing with them until he had something more tangible to work with.

“That’ll suffice for a while. I said you’d provide an update tomorrow morning,” Roy said. He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost noon. Still no leads on Dillon?”

“Nothing. His car is missing. I’ve got officers taking prints at his place and Christina’s. Josie and Marta are interviewing neighbors where Dillon’s meeting was supposed to have taken place.” Otto frowned and rubbed his neck, frustrated they didn’t have something solid at this point.

“Where are we in here?”

“We’ve just made one pass over the outer office area and Dillon’s office. I want to go back over everything now, more closely,” Otto said. “I’ll take Christina’s desk area, you take the waiting area, then we’ll move back to Dillon’s office.”

Roy nodded and pulled a pair of plastic gloves from his back pocket. Otto walked over to Christina’s desk. Mitchell Cowan had just left with Christina Handley’s body to perform the autopsy. A local company had arrived to begin installing a new pane of glass for the front door to secure the building, but the bloodstained secretary’s chair and the blood splatter on the wall were vivid reminders of what had taken place.

Otto opened his evidence kit and removed a large round magnifying glass that he used to scan the top of Christina’s desk, and then her chair. In bigger police departments there were evidence techs to take care of these details, but he never minded the job. The minor details could fry an officer in a trial, but they also solved cases. On her chair he collected a fiber sample, hairs that most likely belonged to her, as well as several shorter, darker-colored hairs that most likely belonged to Dillon.

“Look at this.”

Otto stood up straight and saw Roy inspecting something in his hands, holding it under a lamp to get a better look.

“I’ve seen these around. The smiling skulls with the roses. Any idea what the significance is?” Roy asked. He passed Otto the round metal pendant. The skull and torso of a skeleton were carved in black. The hooded skull smiled demonically, a burning cigarette hanging from her mouth, a rose in one hand, a gun in the other.

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