Dead Against Her (Bree Taggert, #5)(9)

They walked around the house. The county CSI van was parking at the head of the driveway.

“Do we have any additional questions for Homer Johnson?” Todd asked. “He took care of the goats. Now he’s just standing by.”

Bree shook her head. “Send him home. We can follow up later. Ask him to keep the deaths to himself until we have a chance to notify next of kin.”

“How long?” Todd asked. “In case he asks.”

People were morbid, Matt knew. They couldn’t help but talk about deaths, especially ones as violent as these murders. Plus, anyone driving past the farm would gossip about the law enforcement activity.

Bree faced Todd. “According to Homer, Ms. Brown’s brother lives in Scarlet Falls. I’ll drive down there tonight to do the death notification. I want you to start the paperwork. We need background checks for both victims, Ms. Brown’s brother, Oscar’s ex, and Homer.” A judge had already signed the search warrant for the farm. “Warrants for Oscar’s and Ms. Brown’s phone and financial records are being requested.” Thanks to modern technology, warrants could be approved electronically. She turned to Matt. “Let’s search the house and see what we find.”

They went inside, giving the ME and her assistant a wide berth. A thorough search of the parlor yielded nothing of interest. They moved on to the study, which clearly belonged to Camilla.

Bree went to the desk. “We’ll take the computer with us.”

Matt focused on a row of wooden filing cabinets, where he waded through decades of farm records. It saddened him to see evidence of the business’s decline. Over the past ten years, the livestock had been downsized and the planting of hay and other crops had ceased.

Bree held up a piece of paper. “The last business tax return shows she was barely making ends meet.”

“Large operations have been pushing small farms out of the market.”

“The dairy farm down the road from me went bankrupt over the summer. The bank is in the process of foreclosing. Maybe Camilla or Oscar borrowed money from the wrong person.”

“And they were killed for the debt?” Matt shook his head. “I could see roughing them up. But killing your borrowers ensures you won’t get paid.”

“Thankfully, it seems Camilla kept excellent records, but we don’t have time to read every document tonight. I want to interview the family. Their address in Scarlet Falls is only a twenty-minute drive from here, but it’s already almost ten p.m.” Bree walked out from behind the desk.

Matt thumbed through a file of legal documents and snapped a photo of an attorney’s letterhead. “There are both family and business legal documents here prepared by the same attorney.

Hopefully, he’ll have copies of their wills if they made any.”

“I’m betting Camilla had a will. She kept meticulous paperwork.” Bree waited near the doorway. “Coming?”

“Yes.” Just about to close the drawer, Matt spotted a hanging folder labeled WILL in block print. “She did have a will, and here’s a copy.” He pulled out the folder and skimmed through the legalese. “It’s pretty simple. Oscar was the primary beneficiary. Camilla’s brother, Bernard Crighton, is next in line.”

“We’ll have to get a valuation for the property.”

They went upstairs. Bree veered toward the primary bedroom while Matt entered what was clearly a guest room that appeared unoccupied. A light coating of dust covered the dresser and nightstands. The closet was empty except for hangers. The next—and last—bedroom was slightly larger. Two closed suitcases were lined up against a wall. Another lay half-empty on the bed. The closet door stood open.

A man’s wallet, a set of keys, a cell phone, a laptop, and an envelope sat on a writing desk. He tapped the phone. A passcode window appeared. The computer was also password protected. Matt opened the wallet. Oscar’s driver’s license photo stared back at him from the clear plastic window.

Matt thumbed through the rest of the wallet: credit cards, health insurance card, gym ID, and $115 in small bills. He set down the wallet. The envelope wasn’t sealed. Inside, he found a notarized letter from Oscar to his previous landlord breaking the lease on his apartment. His move-out date had been last Sunday.

The suitcases mostly contained clothes. Matt found nothing unusual in any of them. A few boxes held personal effects. He made a note to collect the laptop and cell phone as evidence. The techs in the lab would need to bypass the security on both.

Masculine toiletries filled the vanity drawers in the bathroom. Matt found only over-the-counter medications.

Bree emerged from the primary bedroom as Matt went into the hall.

“Any luck?” she asked.

Matt told her about the letter.

“He was divorced, right?” Bree asked.

“Yes.”

“Was it amicable?”

“I left the department right after they split up, but he seemed pretty bitter. I met his wife a few times at community or department events, but I don’t really remember her. She was quiet. They didn’t have any kids.”

“Then we’ll have to talk to the ex. Disgruntled former spouses love to vent.”

“They do.” Matt gestured toward the bedroom. “I found his laptop and cell on the dresser.”

“Most people keep their phones in their pockets or at least close by. His mother did.”