Chapter 18

18

"Dylan and Taylor are here," Jenna said, nodding at the Ford Interceptor identical to her own. Her phone rang, and she glanced at the screen. "It's Alex."

Max parked beside the Interceptor. "I'll see you inside."

She nodded and punched the answer button. "Hart."

"How do you feel?"

Surely her boss hadn't called just to check on her. "A little off-balance, but nothing major."

"Good. Have you remembered what happened?"

Jenna shook her head even though Alex couldn't see her.

"Nothing other than what I heard. I didn't see anyone." She rubbed her neck, and winced when her fingers found a tender spot at the base of her skull on the right side. Why was her neck sore?

"Are you certain you didn't faint?"

At this point Jenna wasn't certain of anything. "I don't think so."

Alex was quiet for a minute, then she said, "Wayne reported no one on your road saw anything unusual this morning."

Jenna wasn't surprised her neighbors hadn't seen anything—whoever broke into her house was too smart to let someone see them. And that meant there was no way to prove anyone had even been in her house and attacked her.

"If it's the burglary ring, maybe the photos Dylan pulled from the last victim's security cameras will help identify the burglars."

She hoped so. Even though the intruders wore ski masks, someone might recognize a mannerism or their posture.

"And you might think about getting security cameras."

"Believe me, I will." Jenna hadn't figured on burglars hitting a Russell County deputy's house. She looked over to Max, who had exited the car and was heading toward the house. "We're at the Slaters', and once we finish, Max and I are going to process my house."

"Sounds good."

She disconnected, blew a strand of hair away from her face, and automatically reached to pull her hair up in a ponytail as she climbed out of the SUV.

Max had made it just inside the living room when she caught up with him and relayed what Alex had shared.

"I know you were hoping for a different outcome," he said.

"Yeah." She pulled on a pair of nitrile gloves. "Let's see what we can find here."

Max pulled on a pair of gloves as well. Taylor was working in the kitchen, and Dylan sat at a desk in the main living room examining papers. He looked up. "Big house. One bedroom downstairs and four upstairs."

Jenna surveyed the area. The main floor was an open concept plan with the kitchen, dining room, and great room in one shared space. It was like a fancy magazine spread, the kind where nothing was out of place, unlike her lived-in house. "Don't suppose you've found anything."

"I wish," Dylan replied.

"Bedroom down that hall?" She pointed to her left.

"Yes, and Katherine's office, which I've already processed."

"I'll do the bedroom."

"Where do you want me to start?" Max asked.

Taylor closed the pantry door and turned toward them. "Anywhere you want."

"Then I'll take an upstairs bedroom," Max said.

Jenna walked down the hall to the bedroom. Like the great room, it was magazine perfect, and probably a guest room with the main one upstairs. She went through the dresser and chest, checked under the mattress, and searched the few clothes hanging in the closet. Nada.

Thinking of her situation, she checked for any false plates on the receptacles and light switches. Nothing there, either. Jenna was wasting her time here.

A few minutes later, she climbed the stairs to the second floor. Max was in what looked like the main bedroom. "Find anything?"

He shook his head. "It looks like this might be the wife's bedroom—I don't see anything that would belong to a man."

"I'll check the next one." Jenna entered the room down the hall, and the first thing she noticed was the scent of a woodsy cologne. It was bound to be Joe Slater's bedroom. She scanned the room that held normal bedroom furniture except for the old-fashioned rolltop desk that looked out of place.

Maybe it was an heirloom ... or maybe Slater liked to use his bedroom as a combination office. If the latter was the case, why? With a house the size of this one, he could've had a whole office in one of the rooms. The desk looked like a good starting place.

Jenna raised the rolltop and blinked. She'd figured Katherine was the meticulous organizer, but she didn't have anything on her husband. The top of the desk was completely clean—no papers scattered, and there wasn't even a stray pencil on it.

Voices on the landing drew her attention. She walked to the door and looked out just as Joe Slater's sister, Emma, topped the stairs and paused to catch her breath.

"Those stairs get me every time." She took another deep breath. "They said you were up here."

"Did you need something?" Jenna was surprised Dylan had allowed her in.

Emma worked her mouth and blinked as she looked away.

Way to go, Jenna. You've made the woman cry. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound abrupt, but—"

"It's all right. The funeral home called ..." She swallowed hard. "Clothes ... I came after clothes."

That made her feel even worse. "Have they released ..." Why couldn't she ever say the right thing? "Sure. You want to get Joe's first?"

"Please. The man downstairs—I forget what his name is—said you needed to look through whatever I take."

"I do, but that won't take but a minute."

"Jenna?" Max called as she stepped aside to allow Emma into her brother's bedroom.

"Emma came after clothes for the funeral." She turned to the sister who had stopped at the door. "This is Max Anderson from the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation."

"Of course." Now she looked even more confused. "But why TBI—"

"I'm here on another case and just helping out with this," Max said. "Good to meet you, just wish it were under better circumstances, and I better get back to what I was doing."

Emma smiled her acknowledgment. "Guess I better do the same. I'll get Joe's clothes and then pick up Katherine's. I won't be but a few minutes." Emma disappeared into the walk-in closet.

She was true to her word and emerged shortly with a dark navy suit and light blue shirt. She laid them on the bed then picked out a tie and socks and shoes. "Don't know why they want these articles since no one will see them," she muttered.

Jenna looked up from the desk where she'd been looking through the cubbyholes. "I've often thought that." She returned some stamps to the spot where she'd found them. "Is the desk an heirloom?"

Emma laughed. "No, but you would've thought it was from the row they had over it when he wanted it in his bedroom. Katherine was fit to be tied. She'd set up an office on the main floor and couldn't understand why it couldn't go down there." She shook her head. "My sister-in-law had definite ideas on decorating."

"I can see that—the house is beautiful." Jenna stood and walked to the bed, where the clothes were. There was nothing in any of the pockets, and she told Emma she was free to take them.

"Thanks. I'll just grab Katherine's and get out of your hair. Do I bring them for you to check?"

"Max is processing her room. He'll check them," Jenna replied. "When is the funeral?"

"Friday, but I wanted to get this behind me. The medical examiner in Chattanooga indicated their bodies would be released Thursday." She closed her eyes briefly. "There's just me—they didn't have any children—so I didn't see any reason to wait once their bodies are released."

"I totally understand. Again, I'm sorry."

Emma started for the door and stopped. "Will you be through with the house today?"

"Hopefully."

After Emma left for Katherine's room, Jenna turned back to the desk that Joe Slater had insisted stay in his bedroom. What did he want to keep an eye on? Maybe she'd find an answer in one of the drawers. She started with the top drawer. Stationery and files were color-coded. Jenna was vaguely aware of Emma thanking Max and then thumping down the stairs as she thumbed through the files.

Financial statements. Insurance papers. Health records. Jenna opened another drawer. Notepads. Another drawer revealed ledgers. Still nothing to warrant secrecy. She pulled on another drawer. Locked. Bingo. Maybe. She looked in the cubbyholes for a key. No luck.

"Hey, Max," she called out. "Do you have a set of lockpicks?" Jenna didn't expect him to have any, but ...

A minute later, he stepped into the room. "What?"

"Lockpicks—do you have a set?"

"I thought that's what you said, but why?"

"This drawer is locked, and I don't see a key."

A slow grin spread across his face. "As a matter of fact, I do have a set in the truck."

"Why does that not surprise me?" She matched his grin. "What else do you have? A secret decoder ring ... shoes with a phone ... thermal camera?"

"If I told you—"

"Yeah, yeah. Just get the lockpicks."

He laughed. "Be right back."

A few minutes later he returned with a small leather case and shined his phone light on the lock. "This should be a piece of cake."

It didn't take long for him to unlock the drawer and open it. Jenna sighed. Four more ledgers. "They look just like the other ones I found. Why would he lock these up?"

Max picked one up and flipped through it. "Looks legit. Maybe he was hiding money from his wife?"

She pulled on the drawer to take it out, and it caught on something. Jenna bent over and shined her light, trying to see what it might be. "I don't see any reason it won't come out."

Max tugged on the drawer underneath it, then felt along the bottom. "There's something here." He pressed on the bottom of the drawer. "Pull now."

She did, and it released. After taking the ledgers out, they turned the drawer over and discovered a padded envelope taped to the drawer.

"Probably need to get Dylan or Taylor up here to document this," Max said.

She agreed and yelled for them, and soon the two were examining the drawer and taking photos. Once they finished, Dylan peeled the envelope off and drew out a sheet of paper.

"I wasn't expecting that," Max said.

Jenna stared at the words cut from magazines and newspapers— "You've lined your last pocket" —a replica of the letter Harrison Carter had received. "Well, this ties Joe Slater to our former mayor, and if we find a similar letter at Paul Nelson's ..."

"Might not need a letter. Nelson's pockets were cut out," Dylan reminded them.

Jenna stared at the letter. "Maybe the ledgers hold more than we thought."

"Ledgers?" Dylan said.

Jenna pointed to the books she'd laid on the desk. "He had them locked up."

"We'll need a forensic accountant to go through them," the CSI tech said.

"It looks as though there's more to the threatening letter than Carter is admitting," Max said.