Gated Prey (Eve Ronin #3)(54)

“The investigation has evolved,” Duncan said.

“That’s not the way it looks to me. You seem to be scrambling.”

“We’re trying to keep up with fast-moving events,” Duncan said. “This began as a stillbirth but then the autopsy revealed that we’re actually dealing with a fetal abduction. That changed everything. We know the baby doesn’t belong to Anna McCaig. We also know that Priscilla Alvarez, a pregnant woman who works in Oakdale, came through the gate the same day and didn’t leave, at least not alive.”

“We’re confident that DNA taken from hairs on Priscilla’s brush will confirm that the baby was hers,” Eve added, trying to bolster Duncan’s argument. “But we can’t wait for that or vital evidence at the crime scene could be lost in the meantime.”

“Which crime scene?” Shaw asked.

Oh crap, Eve thought. She’d reminded him that they were still holding the scene at McCaig’s place.

Duncan spoke up before she could create more problems. “McCaig says she found the baby in her dumpster and the last person to see Priscilla alive was Daphne Grayle, who is desperately trying to have a kid. If what McCaig says is true, then the murder happened at the Grayles’.”

Shaw looked at Eve. He wasn’t so easily distracted. “What about the McCaig house? Do you still want to hold the scene?”

“At least until we have something definitive on Priscilla Alvarez.”

“Uh-huh.” Shaw leaned back in his chair, steepled his hands on his chest, and regarded the two detectives. “I’m sensing a difference of opinion between you two. You think it’s McCaig and he thinks it’s Grayle.”

Duncan said, “We’re keeping an open mind and exploring all avenues of investigation.”

“While tying up a lot of department resources,” Shaw said.

“Someone ripped a baby from a mother’s womb,” Eve said. “Getting the monster who did that is worth all of our resources.”

She’d surprised herself by saying that, more by the vehemence behind it than the words themselves. Shaw and Duncan both looked at her. After a moment, Shaw leaned forward and put his hands on his desk.

“You’d better find what you are looking for at the Grayles’ house,” Shaw said. “Because if you’re wrong, the weather forecast for tomorrow is a category five shitstorm.”





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN


Duncan and Eve rode in a plain-wrap Explorer that led a caravan of two CSU vehicles and two patrol cars past the Oakdale guardhouse in the resident’s lane. Ruthie sensed their urgency and immediately opened the gate without waiting for anybody to wave at her.

As they headed up to Daphne Grayle’s house, Duncan said, “I’m going to go at her hard, see if she cracks.”

“What do you want me to do?” Eve asked.

“Pick up the pieces.”

“I don’t think Grayle did it.”

“We’ll know soon,” he said. “One way or the other.”

They parked out front and got out of the car. Daphne Grayle already had her front door open and marched out to meet them.

“What the hell is going on?”

Duncan handed her the warrant. “This is a search warrant for your home and vehicles.”

Daphne snatched the paper from him but didn’t look at it. “What are you searching for?”

“Priscilla Alvarez.”

“I haven’t seen her since she left here on Tuesday.”

“Nobody has,” Duncan said. “Please step aside.”

She took a step back, careful to avoid the cacti, and so did Duncan and Eve, making room for Nan and four of her technicians to pass. The CSU team were all wearing their white Tyvek suits, gloves, and booties and carrying toolboxes containing their forensic equipment. The two uniformed deputies remained on the street, securing the scene and keeping back the four curious neighbors drawn outdoors by the arrival of the vehicles.

Daphne stared at the CSU team as they went into her house. “I don’t understand. Why are you searching for her here? And what do you need them for? Those are CSI people. They investigate murders.”

Duncan glanced at Eve, who answered, “An hour after you say that Priscilla left here, Anna McCaig found a dead baby in her dumpster.”

Daphne seemed bewildered. “You think Priscilla gave birth to the baby here . . . and threw it away?”

Eve shook her head. “The medical examiner determined that someone tried to perform an amateur C-section on Priscilla, an operation she couldn’t have survived.”

Daphne gasped and covered her mouth in horror. “Oh my God. No.”

Duncan stepped forward, invading her personal space. “You told us how much you wanted a child. The question is, just how desperate are you?”

The question transformed Daphne. Her horror and confusion evaporated, overtaken by rage. Eve thought it was like watching a person morph into a werewolf.

“Let me get this straight,” Daphne said, unconsciously taking a defensive stance with her body, planting her feet on the ground and tensing her fingers. She was a fighter at heart. “You think that I gutted my maid, tossed her unborn baby into somebody’s garbage, and what else? You think her body is in my closet or buried under my roses?”