Chapter 29

TWENTY-NINE

Gulf Shores, Alabama

Monday, September 23

7:59 a.m.

"You lied to me." Detective Moore squeezed the back of the conference room chair until divots spread in the faux leather. "You told me you had the ability to help me with this investigation."

"I never lied. I do have the ability." Leigh hadn't been looking forward to this meeting, but just as she'd known the risks of submitting a warrant request while on medical leave, she'd known this conversation was coming. But she'd hoped it could've come after Elyse had been recovered. "What I don't have is the authorization to officially work this investigation. There's a difference."

"According to your unit director, you're on medical leave. You're not fit for field duty or investigation," the detective said. "Do you even realize what you've done? Recovering Elyse's phone from Samuel Thornton's fireplace, finding the second phone and those photos of Ruby from Elyse's home. I can't even begin to explain. A judge could rule them inadmissible because you lied your way onto this case. The chain of custody has been compromised."

"But it's not a guarantee. If we make an arrest and go to court, a judge could still consider the evidence, and that, to me, is a hell of a lot more important to me than jurisdiction." That last part was what sucked the air from her chest. Elyse wasn't dead. Leigh didn't give a damn about how much the human body could stand to lose in liters of blood. She wasn't dead. "You're not mad because you won't be able to explain where that evidence came from, Detective. You're mad I was the one who found the connection between Elyse and your niece. That, after everything you've done for her these past three weeks, I pushed the investigation into her disappearance forward when you had nothing."

The detective drew back. Just for a moment. As though Leigh had physically assaulted her right here in the middle of the Gulf Shores police station.

"Omitting vital information puts me in an impossible position. You realize that, don't you? I could have you arrested for obstruction." Detective Moore took a seat at the conference table. Exhaustion and heartache and what Leigh assumed was a little bit of desperation to find out what'd happened to Ruby Davis and Saige Fuentes etched deep into the detective's face. Aging her in a matter of minutes. Leigh could practically feel the pressure for this woman to perform against her male counterparts. Like a physical weight Moore had no way of growing into, but if the detective had wanted to arrest her, she would've already done it. "Tell me again, how did you acquire Elyse's phone?"

"You know how." They were talking in circles. Getting nowhere and wasting valuable time.

"Samuel Thornton's home. And did the door just happen to be unlocked and open when you got there?" the detective said. "Or did you break in to gain access?"

So they were going to speak freely, then. All right. Leigh could do that.

"The door was unlocked. I identified myself as I entered. There was no answer. Figured it couldn't hurt to have a look around considering GPS put Elyse in that location just before her disappearance," she said. "Are you upset with me because I allowed you to believe I was cleared to work this case with Gulf Shores PD or because I managed to find evidence Elyse was doing your job for you?"

There was a beat of silence as the accusation sank in. Detective Moore eased back in her seat. Leigh would give her points for keeping her expression neutral. That took training and effort she was sure the detective didn't have to spare.

"I'm not sure why you went out of your way to ignore Elyse Portman's claim she was assaulted by Samuel Thornton, Detective. Maybe it was because you had your mind on finding your niece. Maybe the pressure of proving yourself to your superiors is getting to you, and you needed a big win instead of looking into a concussed woman's claim." Leigh hated to think either excuse had an effect on the past couple of days. "You could've excused yourself from duty, with good reason, but you didn't. Instead, you gave Elyse's family hope that you would find answers for them. So I might have led you to believe I could assist you in an official capacity, but you let me believe you were invested in Elyse's case."

Her point had been made, but she wasn't done. "Honestly, I don't really care why you took on this investigation. But based on what your people have been able to recover from Poppy Slater's stolen phone, Elyse was looking into two victimized teenaged girls. She then disguised herself as a fifteen-year-old girl to bait the man she believed responsible out into the open. A man who may very well have abducted Saige Fuentes. She put herself in danger to help your niece. Her intent is there in the exchanged messages. Elyse wanted us to find that phone and the photos she hid. She wanted us to know who was hurting these girls." The end game still wasn't clear. Had Elyse taken her ruse a step farther? Had she met with the killer? Had he discovered Elyse's lie? "Now, there's a pool of blood in her house, evidence of a struggle, and Elyse is nowhere to be found. If she is dead as you say, that, Detective, is on you. For failing to do your job in the first place."

There wasn't any answer to that. In truth, the detective didn't owe her anything.

"So it seems we both made mistakes in the past couple of days." Leigh tried to take the bite out of her voice. It was easier these days. Not being so… angry all the time. Betrayed and defensive. She supposed Chandler and her father had had something to do with it in the past two months, and yet she'd gone on living as though anger was the only thing that'd gotten her through the day. In retrospect, that'd been true. Lately, something had stolen that constant companion she'd relied on for so long. She tapped a middle finger on the conference room table. "Now, we have two girls of the same friend group strangled a year apart, another missing, a woman looking into their cases possibly dead, and a suspect on the run. And the only way we bring any of them home is to work together. Officially or not."

Detective Moore stared back. Obstinate and frigid.

"You know where to find me if you change your mind." Leigh was done here. Because the longer they fought amongst themselves, the less chance Elyse had of coming home. Shoving to stand, she refused to let the detective—or anyone else—see the pain carving through her. Not just from the surgery but the cyclone of doubt and potential loss. Leigh had almost made it to the door before the detective stopped her.

"You're right." Detective Moore kept her composure, but it'd slivered into a finite line. "I wasn't invested in Elyse Portman's case. Not like I was with finding Ruby, but that doesn't mean I am responsible for what happened in that vacation house, Agent Brody, or that you had any right to insert yourself into my investigation without telling me the truth."

Leigh turned to face her, to argue. But she couldn't. Instead, she held her own as the detective got to her feet and closed the distance between them.

"I followed up with Elyse's claim once I took her statement from the hospital emergency room. She'd lost a good amount of memory of the days leading up to the assault. She believed she'd been attacked, but she couldn't tell me where the incident occurred, and she couldn't remember who had done the attacking." The detective hiked the waistband of her slacks higher. "I ran a warrant request for her phone GPS too, Agent Brody. It led me right where it led you. To Samuel Thornton's front door. I went back and questioned him after the incident on the beach where Elyse kept screaming she had proof he'd assaulted her. I showed him Elyse's photo to determine if he recognized her. He gave me all the right answers, and frankly, I didn't have anything to request a warrant to search the house. There wasn't anything I could do."

"So you decided to just let the case work itself out." None of this would make a damn bit of difference now. "Hope that Elyse left things alone and maybe figured out she'd been wrong in the first place?"

"What would you have done?" Detective Moore asked. "Given the restraints of this job, the lack of evidence, and having another case take up every single thought in your head, Agent Brody, what would you have done?"

"I would've been ordered to move on to the next case." Leigh couldn't lie. She'd been in the detective's exact same position. Multiple times over. In her short time as a Concord PD officer, in consultations with departments around the country, as a criminologist for the FBI. Could she really claim she'd been invested in any of those investigations with her brother's case hanging over her head? "Except Elyse didn't leave things alone. She took it upon herself to catch a killer and put herself in a position to become one of his victims. So where is Samuel Thornton, Detective?"

"I can't tell you that." The detective dropped her shoulders. "All I can say is I have patrols and state police invested in locating our missing teen and Samuel Thornton's pickup truck and airport police checking IDs in case he tries to leave the state."

"What about his phone records?" Leigh asked. "Is there any activity or GPS we can follow?"

"Let me rephrase this so you understand, Agent Brody. I'm not going to give you any details pertinent to this investigation because you are not working this case. You've already risked the prosecution's case against any suspect we arrest." The detective shook her head. They'd aired their grievances, and Detective Moore was holding a grudge. Getting in Leigh's way. "If there is a connection between Saige Fuentes's disappearance, Elyse's personal vendetta, and Samuel Thornton, I will be the one to find it. Have I made myself clear?"

"The hair belonged to Ruby, didn't it? The one I found in Elyse's medicine cabinet with the second phone and those photos of your niece." The length, the color, the texture—it'd all led Leigh to the same conclusion. But where had it been taken from? Samuel Thornton's home? The body itself? Had Elyse found the teen before her body had been dumped? "It wouldn't have taken much time for your coroner to compare it to the body recovered on the beach. Elyse was looking into Ruby's disappearance and may have ended up dead because of it."

"Stay away from my investigation, Agent Brody." Detective Moore ensured not to touch her on the way out of the conference room—most likely due to learning about Leigh's surgery—but given different circumstances, she imagined a shoulder check would've driven the detective's point home nicely. "If I find you anywhere near my case, I will have you arrested for obstruction and reported to your director. You will lose everything."

"Noted." She had no intention of taking a step back. She was in too deep. And Leigh sure as hell wasn't going to let the FBI dictate which victims to help or ignore. That was how cases went cold. That was how victims were lost and forgotten. Relegating families to suffer without answers, and she couldn't let Elyse slip between the cracks. She couldn't put Ava through what she herself had barely survived.

The drive back to Samuel Thornton's beach house took an aggravating twenty minutes due to limited backroad access and morning rush traffic, but a sense of relief released in Leigh's chest as the ride-share parked at the back of the property. "Thanks."

She stepped back into the heat, catching an odor of something that'd died at the back of her throat. Nothing seemed to have changed in the twenty-four hours since Leigh had recovered Elyse's phone inside. But her entire perception of this case had. Her friend had gotten herself wrapped up in a murder investigation. And had mostly likely paid the ultimate price. Had that been why Elyse had left a voicemail asking for help? Had she gotten in over her head, and Leigh hadn't been available to help because she'd been so focused on her own recovery?

She couldn't think about that right now. Sand gritted under Leigh's boots as she pulled her cell from her blazer. She tapped out a message to Ava, checking in on her newest charge at the hotel, but the message refused to go through. "No reception."

Thankfully GPS didn't rely on internet connection or cell service, but not surprising. Cell companies didn't prioritize low-density communities. Not many customers. She supposed that was one of the key selling features of homes like this. The ability to escape. So Elyse hadn't called and left the voicemail from here. Leigh wished for a sidearm as she surveyed the house, closing one eye against the onslaught of the sun. Not officially on duty, no official backup. She was on her own.

Leigh halted at the bottom of the stairs then searched for a neighboring home. Curiosity pulled her from ascending toward the deck and into the house. She'd noticed the same kind of shed beneath Elyse's vacation home. A storage room? This one had a padlock. Broken from the look of it. No rust. Sawed straight through. Leigh hated padlocks. In her experience, they'd only hid secrets. So what had Samuel Thornton been trying to hide?

Tension radiated up her spine and into her shoulders as Leigh mentally sifted through the possible discoveries inside. Saige. A victim they hadn't known about. Elyse. She shut down the panic as she slipped the padlock free of its cage and opened the door. Leigh buried her mouth in the crook of her arm. Choking on the odor escaping from inside the little dark room.

And took in the bloated corpse sitting upright against the far wall. Thick, black strangulation bruises striped across its throat. She stepped into the cramped sauna already too hot this early in the morning and swatted away the blowflies making a nest out of the remains. "I've been looking for you."