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  It was done, but not over.

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  Chapter 17

  PAIGE KIND OF UNDERSTOOD WHY Jack had paired them off—her and Zach pursuing leads from Cheryl Bradley’s case while he and Brandon looked into Tara’s murder. It would allow them to cover more ground.

  She and Zach were on the way to speak with Phil Payne, Cheryl’s ex-fiancé. Nadia was looking into whether he was connected in any way to Tara through employment history.

  “So what’s going on with you and Brandon?” Zach was driving, but it didn’t stop him from looking at her.

  “What do you mean?” She played stupid, even though Zach’s eyes disclosed that he knew something had either gone on or was going on between them.

  “I think you know what I mean.” He maintained eye contact with her until driving made it necessary to look away. A car in front of them was slowing down. After applying the brakes, he turned back to her.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said.

  “I think it does. He didn’t seem too happy that you were going out with Detective Barber.”

  Well, that’s too bad, isn’t it? She wanted to say the words aloud, but somehow she managed to control herself. She had made the same observation as she was getting ready to leave, her arm through Sam’s. The way Brandon had watched after her had splintered her heart, fracturing her sanity. But her feelings, his, they didn’t matter.

  “No response, Paige?”

  She shook her head and couldn’t bring herself to look at Zach again. She watched the colored blurs of the city pass by as they drove and was pleased Zach seemed to let the subject go. At least for now. She didn’t want to get into all of it—telling him how Brandon had broken her heart, how they made the decision to see other people, how the job had tentacles that reached into her personal life, again, and dictated her actions. But she had accepted the repercussions. She’d known sacrifices were required to become an agent. Her life was no longer her own but belonged to the US government. It was an offering she willingly made. Up until this point, it hadn’t exacted such a high toll. But to make her quiet her true feelings for Brandon… The stakes were higher than she had anticipated.

  She and Brandon had agreed separating was in their best interests. And it wasn’t that she thought otherwise. She just wished it could be another way so she was free to be with the man she loved. What pained her was how, despite Brandon’s apparent jealousy, the transition seemed so easy for him. He had moved on already, and even though she didn’t think he knew, she was aware of with whom: Becky Tulson from Dumfries PD.

  She couldn’t say their relationship came as a surprise. They’d seemed to hit it off months ago.

  Paige steadied her courage, reassuring herself that if Brandon was able to get on with his life, so could she. And she would. It might just take time. But one thing she wasn’t going to tolerate was Brandon’s jealousy. It wasn’t flattering. In fact, it was the opposite, and he had no right to play that game.

  PHIL PAYNE HAD MARRIED TWO months after breaking off his engagement with Cheryl Bradley. But the woman he’d been with during the time of her murder wasn’t his bride. What was it with men and their inability to remain monogamous? Paige resigned it to being something she’d never understand.

  They’d tracked Phil down at his townhouse. He didn’t have a job, opting to be a stay-at-home father while his wife brought in the money.

  He directed them into a living room with toys strewn all over the carpet. It was apparent the three-year-old ran the place.

  The toddler was sitting in the middle of the room, a plastic car in his mouth. It was large enough that there was no risk of choking. Phil took it from him anyway and put it in the middle of his son’s legs.

  “You need eyes in the back of your head,” he explained.

  “I can imagine,” Paige said.

  “No kids, I take it?”

  “You would be right.” And at this rate, there never would be, not that she spent a second regretting her choices. She had always put her career ahead of having a family, and in her forties, it was the furthest thing from her mind.

  “So you guys are here about Cheryl? That was a long time ago.”

  Paige found it interesting how a year was a long time. In reality it wasn’t, but Phil had evidently carried on with his life. And thinking of timing, this child must have come along before he was even with Cheryl because, based on the case file, they were only engaged for a couple of months before he broke it off. They weren’t dating for long before his proposal.

  Phil must have noticed her observation. “He’s mine and Mindy’s. Mindy and I were together, well, four years ago. We were quite different and decided it best to go our separate ways. Even after we found out she was pregnant, we stuck by our decision. I’ve always had a place in Levi’s life, though.”

  “How did Cheryl feel about all that?” Zach asked.

  Phil ran his hands down the top of his thighs. “I never told her.”

  This guy was a piece of work. “And what about Emma? Where did she fit in?” Emma was the one who confirmed his alibi for the night Cheryl was murdered.

  “Emma sort of happened. Cheryl was a flirt, but she was also obsessed with the whole white wedding. A justice of the peace ceremony and two close friends would have made me happy.”

  Hearing Phil mention friends made Paige realize speaking to Cheryl’s friends might prove helpful, too. Paige didn’t need to ask him for their information as they were on record from being interviewed when the murder first occurred. “Speaking of friends—” she extended him a photograph of Tara Day “—does she look familiar to you?”

  “She does, but it’s because I saw her on the news today. Is she why you’re interested in what happened to Cheryl again? You’re trying to see if they are connected somehow?”

  Paige nodded.

  “Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t know her. Whether Cheryl did or not, I’m not sure.”

  “Tell us about Cheryl’s job,” Zach asked.

  “I probably won’t be telling you anything you don’t already know. She worked as a receptionist at a graphic design company in town.”

  “Was she happy there?” Paige asked.

  “I know she loved her job even though they treated her like garbage. She was the receptionist, and people there had the old-school mentality. She was to get their coffee, order their lunches, et cetera. But she took it, so they kept exploiting her. The girl needed to stand up for herself.” His eyes drifted to the floor, and Paige saw it as remorse over speaking of the dead this way.

  She thought of their killer’s potential motivation. It might’ve been a larger picture than the heartbreak Phil had caused her. “Was she depressed from the way they treated her? You said she loved her job, but did it ever get her down?”

  “Cheryl, sad? No way. She was happier than necessary most of the time.”

  “So she was happy and loved her job despite people walking all over her? Was it everyone in the company?”

  “I’d say most. There were a few who didn’t.”

  “Do you remember any names?”

  “After a year, no.”

  If one went with this man’s summation of a year, one would think it was an enormous span of time, but Phil did prove useful. There were people at the graphic design company who showed her kindness, and the unsub was trusted by the women he killed. Maybe it was one of Cheryl’s kind coworkers who took it upon himself to cheer her up after Phil broke her heart.

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  Chapter 18

  PAIGE AND ZACH WERE MEETING with Cheryl’s ex-fiancé while Jack and I were in the police station parking lot. Jack’s back was to me, and he was on the phone. He placed enough distance between us to make it next to impossible to eavesdrop. I was still able to make out the odd word here and there, and it was enough to piece together
that someone close to Jack wasn’t doing well. In the time I had known him, I’d only heard mention of one family member—his mother, who was in a nursing home suffering the effects of Alzheimer’s. So either there was an issue with her or the child he adamantly claimed not to have.

  My cell rang, the sound cutting through the air. Jack turned, made rushed good-byes to his caller, and came over.

  “It’s Nadia.” I put her on speaker and held the phone out in front of us. “Nadia, Jack’s here, too.”

  “Tara’s boss, Neal Grigg, never worked with Cheryl as a fellow employee, but he did do some accounting work for the graphic design company she worked for.”

  “There’s our connection,” I said.

  “Ah, boss?”

  “What is it, Nadia?”

  “I’m watching the video from Down the Hatch, and I swear Neal Grigg was Tara’s date. I’m sending it to your phone.”

  Tara’s friend had suspected Tara had been keeping her affair quiet because the man was married. “If she was dating him, it could explain her nerves, why she arrived early to drink on her own. The guy’s her boss, and he’s married,” I said.

  “Those are two good reasons to keep the mystery man’s identity to herself,” Nadia agreed. We had filled Nadia in earlier on what Tara’s friend Reanne had told us.

  Jack seemed focused, his eyes set, as he pulled out his pack of cigarettes and knocked one out, stuck it in his lips, and lit up.

  “They sound like very good reasons. Thanks, Nadia,” I said, ending the call.

  I looked over at Jack. He didn’t seem to care that we were just standing there, him puffing on a cigarette and me watching him. I wanted to ask about his personal life, but what was the point? The man never discussed his feelings. There was one member of the team who could get him to talk, though. And maybe this would be a good way to get us talking again—with nothing but Jack’s welfare on my agenda. There would be no need for the topic of our past relationship to surface.

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  Chapter 19

  ALEX HOLT WAS THE OWNER of Design It Graphics where Cheryl Bradley had worked. The company was midsize with thirty employees, and the building was a single story with a spacious showroom and two bay doors at the front. Based on the depth of the structure, Paige figured transport trucks could be brought inside for decaling, if the professionals termed it such these days.

  Paige and Zach sat across from Alex in a conference room. Paige got the impression he didn’t get too involved with the physical requirements of the business. Employees tended to make themselves appear busier when he walked past and for good reason. A worker bucked at one of his directives right in front of them, and Alex said, “Who am I? I only sign your paychecks.”

  Alex made Jack look like an easygoing boss—not that she failed to get along with him. She loved his no-nonsense attitude and hardheaded determination—even if the latter was off lately.

  “So what can I do for you?” Alex asked.

  “We have some questions about Cheryl Bradley,” Paige said.

  “Cheryl? Wow, it’s been awhile since I heard that name.”

  Paige didn’t sense he was broken up over what had happened. There might even be a hint of annoyance at the fact that they were taking him from his day to discuss a former employee.

  On their way over, Jack had called to update them on Neal Grigg’s connection to Cheryl and the graphic design company and also what the bar’s video had revealed. Given this recent information, they had some new questions for Alex.

  Paige took out her phone and showed Neal’s DMV photograph to Alex. “Do you recognize this man?”

  Alex leaned forward to see the picture but sat back a second later. “No, I can’t say I do.”

  “That’s interesting.”

  Alex cocked his head. “Why?”

  Paige raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you sure you don’t want to think the question through a little longer?”

  Revelation dawned in his eyes. He snapped his fingers. “Right. He was an accountant or something.”

  “Yes, or something,” Zach added.

  “Did you ever see him with Cheryl?” Paige asked. It was potentially circular questioning, but it deserved to be explored further. Cheryl’s ex had mentioned her being a flirt. Maybe she had taken things further and messed around with Neal. There was no doubt their paths had crossed. With Cheryl being the receptionist, she would have let him in to meet with management. They could have hit it off. Depending on where things went with the case, it might not be a bad idea to check back with Phil, as well, to see if Neal stood out to him.

  “Aside from getting him coffee or leading him back to the conference room? No.”

  “So they weren’t romantically involved?” Zach asked.

  “I wouldn’t wager. Isn’t he married?” His eyes met Paige’s, as if that defense were enough these days. She personally knew better. He continued. “Cheryl was a happy girl—too happy. I don’t like to speak ill of the dead but she’d smile for no reason, almost like there was something wrong upstairs. Anyway, she was head over heels in love with her beau at the time… What was his name?”

  “Phil,” Paige supplied.

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  “When they broke up did you notice anything different about her? Did she still smile a lot?”

  Alex rubbed his jaw and put his hands, palms up, in the air. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” she asked. She looked over at Zach, who had the same skeptical expression on his face as she did.

  “I don’t like repeating myself. I’m a busy man around here. I can’t be getting involved with the goings-on of my staff. If I did, I’d never get anything done.”

  “You knew her fiancé’s name,” she pointed out.

  “Rumors got around that she was going to quit after the wedding. She was the best receptionist I ever had.”

  Paige was disgusted by his attitude. “We were told Cheryl loved her job here but wasn’t always treated with respect.”

  Alex remained silent.

  “We also know there were some coworkers who did actually care about her, though. Do you remember seeing anyone talk nicely to her, ask about her personal life?” Paige figured it was a long shot.

  “I do remember hearing a couple ask how her weekends were. It was usually the same two. One was Richard Foster and the other, Cain Boynton.”

  Paige leaned forward. “Do they still work here?”

  “Richard does, but he’s in Jamaica on vacation.”

  With beautiful June weather in the States, it was a strange time to go to an island, but to each his own.

  “And Cain left last summer,” Alex went on. “He got a better paying job across the city working for another graphic design company…if you want to call them that.”

  “All right. Thank you. If you think of anything else that might help with the investigation, call.” Paige handed Alex her card, and she and Zach left.

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  Chapter 20

  JACK DIDN’T SAY A WORD while we waited on Detective Powers and Barber to bring Neal in for questioning. It wasn’t like Jack to relinquish control over a situation. In fact, he’d usually insist we apprehend the suspect. The normal Jack wouldn’t hesitate to create a spectacle of Neal in front of his employees, either. But I didn’t mistake Jack holding back for vulnerability. Slight preoccupation maybe, but I had no doubt Jack was a swirling shark waiting for the opportune time to propel after his prey.

  Neal Grigg was forty-five years old, and he had a lot of success for a man his age. He owned an accounting firm, albeit one run into the ground aesthetically speaking. Where it mattered, from a financial point of view, the company was in the black, and had twenty-five full-time employees, a notable quantity considering the space they were crammed into. Without confirm
ing the data, I wouldn’t have guessed the place was large enough to accommodate that many.

  Powers held on to one of Neal’s shoulders and guided him into the interrogation room where Jack and I were seated. He wasn’t in cuffs, but it was clear walking away wasn’t an option.

  Neal dropped into a chair across from us, and Powers and Barber left the room. He stared across at Jack and me, his eyes going back and forth between us. “Why am I here? I answered your questions.”

  The flash of desperation in his eyes reminded me of his reaction to Tara’s death and the single tear that fell. Was it out of fear, shock, or grief? Or a combination of all three?

  “We have something for you to watch.” Jack flicked a button on the remote control, and a TV at the end of the table came to life with the video taken from the bar’s security.

  Neal watched the screen. Jack and I watched for his reaction.

  On the feed, it showed Neal approaching Tara and Tara slipping off her barstool, taking her martini with her. The two of them went out of view from the camera to another part of the establishment.

  Jack turned the TV off. Neither of us said anything. We would let the evidence speak for itself. Oftentimes, the guilty felt the need to fill dead space with explanations, excuses, and fables. I wondered what route Neal would take.

  “It’s not what you think,” he started.

  So he was taking the It wasn’t me path. Kind of stupid considering there was no mistaking it was him. Maybe the next thing out of his mouth would be that it was his evil twin.

  I tilted my head. “So that’s not you?”

  “Of course it’s me, but it’s not what you think.”

  “And what do we think it is?” Jack asked.

  Neal burrowed his fingers in his mane of dark hair. “I’m a happily married man.”