I See You (Criminal Profiler #2)(65)

“We have no idea.” Vaughan shifted his stance. “Mr. Foster, I’d like you to come down to the station.”

“Why? Am I under arrest?” he demanded.

“No.” Not yet. “We have more questions for you,” Vaughan said.

Mark Foster shook his head, his wild eyes darting around as if he were a caged animal. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until I talk to Rodney. Not until I find my daughter.”

Mrs. Pollard’s head bobbled in agreement. “Rodney always knows what to do.”

“He’s my lawyer now,” Foster added.

“Your daughter is still missing,” Vaughan said. “There’s still hope to find her.”

Foster closed his eyes. “Her mother is dead. Murdered. That poor girl is never going to be the same.”

Zoe was struck by the comment. “You need to tell us everything you know so we can find Skylar.”

Foster stared at the gauze wrapped around his arm. “None of this is her fault. That kid didn’t deserve this disaster.”

Zoe sensed a small crack in whatever armor Foster had fashioned around himself. She needed to drive a wedge into that microscopic crevice and work it back and forth until it widened. She could sense the truth lurking under the surface. “Of course she doesn’t deserve this. No kid deserves to see her mother stabbed and likely die in front of her. She must be in a state of shock.”

“I love that little girl,” he said. “I would do anything for her.”

She heard the genuine affection in his voice. “We know you do. That’s why we have to find her. We have to help her.”

“Let us help Skylar,” Vaughan said.

Foster was silent for a long moment, and then finally he shook his head, as if shoring up that tiny breach in his defenses. “Skylar is tough. She’s going to be fine. She’ll get through this.”

“You say that as if it’s a certainty,” Zoe said.

“It is.” He swallowed hard. “It has to be.”

“Come to the station with us.” Vaughan made the order sound like a request. Technically, Foster was lawyered up, and they would have to tread carefully. This case was already a tangled mess, and the knots were more likely to tighten than loosen.

Foster shook his head. “No. I’m not going anywhere with you. I need to speak to Rodney.”

Mrs. Pollard stood a little taller. “I’m calling Rodney. And in the meantime, I need you both to leave my house.”

Zoe and Vaughan made no move to leave. This was not the first time either had been thrown out of a suspect’s house or had pushed the boundaries to get a witness to talk.

“Teenage girls like to talk,” Zoe said. “Not necessarily to their parents but to their friends and boyfriends. They unburden even the deepest, darkest family secrets.”

Foster leaned back in his chair, puffing his chest as if to make himself look stronger. “There are no secrets to share,” he said.

“There are always secrets,” she continued. “How long had you been having an affair with Veronica?”

His lips flattened into a grim line. “Six months. I’m not proud of it at all, and for the record, I broke up with her a few days ago.”

That would have been a neat trick, considering she was dead. “You spoke to her?”

“I sent a text. What does this have to do with my daughter?”

“When is the last time you spoke directly to Veronica?” Zoe asked.

“It’s been weeks.” Foster shoved out a breath. “Why are we talking about Veronica?”

Either he didn’t know about Veronica, or he was a very good actor; regardless, she wouldn’t press the point until she found Skylar. “When girls feel ignored or unimportant, they can reach out to other people.”

“Hadley and I had our problems, but we loved our daughter.”

“Did she know you two had decided to separate?” Zoe asked.

“No. We were always careful to keep our adult conversations private.”

“Have you heard the saying ‘Little pitchers have big ears’?”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means she heard a lot more than you realized,” Zoe said.

“I don’t believe you. Hadley and I made mistakes in our marriage, but we always kept Skylar out of it.”

“You didn’t keep anything from her,” Zoe pressed as Mrs. Pollard rose and grabbed her cell phone from the kitchen. “I’m guessing she heard a real whopper of a secret recently. Maybe it’s why she tried to kill her boyfriend back in Oregon.”

Foster’s face paled. “That was an accident.”

“And the stalking?” Zoe asked. “Was she stalking her ex-boyfriend?”

“No. The boy was making up lies to hurt her.” His jaw tightened and his fists clenched. “You’re trying to provoke me.”

Zoe pushed back. “Something bubbled over in your home yesterday. What was it?”

“I’m calling Rodney,” Mrs. Pollard said. “This is harassment.” She began dialing and then raised the phone to her ear.

Zoe leaned closer, knowing she now had seconds before she and Vaughan would have no legal reason to remain. “What happened yesterday? What cracked in that house? There was a lot of pain and secrets. Something blew the lid off this pressure cooker.”