Wrecked (Josie Gray Mysteries #3)(21)
“It’s as if someone was in the middle of ransacking the office, stealing files, and then got caught,” Marta said. “Or, they saw a light outside, something spooked them, and they shot Christina because she’d seen too much.”
“But if they were ransacking the office and got spooked, they wouldn’t take the time to shoot her and then lock the door behind them if they left in a hurry,” Otto said.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, they’d just leave. They aren’t going to take the time to lock up behind them if they think someone is about ready to catch them.”
“Unless there were multiple people in the office. Which supports the cartel theory,” Josie said.
“Maybe Christina tried to leave. She was going to make a run for it and they took off a quick shot,” Marta said.
“That’s the odd piece to this. It was a bad shot, but Cowan said she was sitting in her chair when she was killed. She wasn’t in the process of standing up, trying to escape, and then got shot and fell back into the seat. Her back and bottom were firmly planted in the chair. And the blood splatter on her clothing, the chair, desk, and wall, all indicate that she wasn’t moved after the shot.” Otto paused and picked up his notebook from the conference table, flipping back to notes from the crime scene. “We also found a pendant across the room, lying on the floor by the front window. And a silver necklace under her desk. Doesn’t look like her style. Looks like a man’s necklace that got ripped off.”
“So you’re saying there was a struggle after all? A tussle between Christina and her attackers?” Josie asked.
Marta gave Josie a skeptical look. “Christina fought with her attackers. Then she sat down in her office chair, and calmly allowed someone to take a quick shot at her?”
“There was a struggle,” Otto declared. “For whatever reason she sat back down in her seat. Most likely at gunpoint. Then, the gunman is startled, maybe sees a car drive by outside the office window. He panics. Christina knows too much, so he takes a quick shot, but he doesn’t have time to make sure she’s dead and instead runs for the back door.”
“But the lights were off when I came to the office the next morning,” Josie said.
“So he hit the lights before he left to keep from drawing attention.”
“And got Christina’s keys out of her desk drawer and locked up after he panicked and took a potshot? Doesn’t make sense,” she said.
“Did someone take prints on the back door?” Marta asked.
“I checked myself. Nothing.” Otto paused and stared out the windows in the back of the office for quite some time. He finally said, “I just don’t want us to jump on the cartel angle too quickly. To me, it looks more like an abduction for client accounts. You know Dillon. If someone tried to get confidential information out of him, what would he do?”
“He would resist,” Josie said.
“And someone who was trying to gain account information about a wealthy client could have taken him somewhere to access the information by force.”
They sat for a while longer, trying to fit the details together. Josie tried to concentrate on Christina’s murder as it might have happened, but random images of Dillon derailed every coherent train of thought.
Eventually Otto scooted his chair back and stood. “It’s time to go home. Get a good night’s sleep so you’re clearheaded in the morning.”
“Why not her style?” Josie suddenly asked. “You said the pendant you found couldn’t be hers because it wasn’t her style.”
“Ever heard of Santa Muerte?” he asked.
“Sounds familiar.”
“Saint Death,” Marta said. “It’s a bastardization of the Catholic faith. A way for criminals to excuse their crimes in the name of God.”
Marta’s hand moved to her throat, grasping for the silver cross she wore every day around her neck, a gesture Josie had seen her perform a hundred times. Josie wished she had something in her life that gave her the security and comfort that Marta obviously drew from her religion. To Josie, religion was a mystery. She wasn’t brought up in the church, had never learned the Bible stories that other kids learned in Sunday school. She had no sense of her place in a spiritual world.
Still standing at the conference table, Otto repeated himself. “We’ve reached a point where it’s time to stop for the day. Let’s be ready for tomorrow with clear heads.”
Josie got up and straightened the stack of folders in front of her. She said, “Dillon’s parents called again just before you got here. Checking in, wondering if we’d heard from him. His mother said she called his ex-girlfriend from back in California to see if she knew anything. She also checked with several friends to see if he’d called.”
Otto raised his eyebrows.
“No, nothing. No one has heard from him.” Josie felt pressure in her chest and a tremor in her hands.
“Tomorrow we focus on his clients. Go home now. Try to get some sleep.”
Josie knew there was nothing more she could do that night. She shut down her computer, and as she reached the door, Otto called to her. “It goes without saying that our house is always open. If it’s too much, staying by yourself.”
*
Josie drove home in a fog, struggling to make sense of the day. She called Dell from her cell phone and filled him in. She asked him to keep watch, and to let her know if there were any suspicious cars or people around the property. He offered to come down, but she declined. She needed to get some sleep, though they both knew that would not happen.