Chapter 18
Catherine shut the door to the sheriff’s conference room before answering the call from Garrett Reid’s brother.
“Thank you for getting back to me,” she said.
“I talked to my dad,” Vince Reid replied. “He said Garrett’s a suspect in a homicide?”
“Yes. Multiple homicides.”
“Shit,” Vince muttered. “Don’t call my parents again. They’re retired, they’re heartbroken, and they don’t deserve to be dragged
into this.”
“I hope I won’t need to. But we have to understand Garrett in order to stop him from hurting anyone else.”
“I haven’t spoken to him in over five years.”
“What was he like growing up?”
“I’m ten years older. Frank’s less than two years younger than me—we’re close.
Garrett came along years later. Cute kid, good at baseball.
Our parents were always at his games, bought him the best gear.
He was a star player—until he hit tougher leagues and realized other kids were just as good, or better.
He quit. Could’ve been great, if he practiced and accepted that there were other good players. But he hated being second to anyone.”
Catherine made the note. It was a very interesting point, and she considered how that might play into his psychology with
a partner.
“He was smart,” Vince continued. “Straight A’s. Got into UCLA. Our parents saved for college, paid his tuition and housing.
He never visited them, rarely even returned their calls. Six months after he graduated, they found out he’d taken out loans
in my mom’s name. Tricked her. She thought she was signing something else. He pocketed the money they gave him and stuck them
with nearly a hundred grand in debt. They’re still paying it off. When I confronted him, he said they didn’t need the money
because they didn’t have a mortgage.”
A narcissist, Catherine thought. No remorse. No conscience.
Possible. But she still needed more information, because sociopaths were complex. They didn’t always fall neatly into known
patterns of behavior.
“What did he study?” she asked.
“Mechanical engineering, at least at the beginning. Like I said, Garrett is very smart. But he hates work. He works hard at
avoiding work, so halfway through his second year he switched to English lit with a minor in math, because he already had
most of the math requirements done. Said all he had to do was read a book and parrot the professor.”
“And he graduated?”
“Yeah. With honors,” Vince snorted.
“Why did you stop speaking to him?”
Vince hesitated. “Does that matter?”
“It might.”
“When the loan scam came out, he walked out of our parents’ house and moved in with my mom’s best friend. She was recently divorced. Twice his age. I’m sure he used her for money, then moved on. It destroyed my mom’s friendship—who sleeps with someone their son’s age?”
He exhaled hard.
“Then he tried to seduce my wife. Came over when I was working a thirty-six-hour shift. Bella had just had our first daughter.
She’d left her career, felt isolated and overwhelmed. Garrett charmed his way in. Played the loving family member. She wanted
to believe he could change, make our parents proud again.” He paused.
“What happened?” Catherine asked.
“He kissed her. She told him to leave. He didn’t. Picked up our baby and started walking around with her. Wouldn’t give her
back. Bella was crying, terrified. And Garrett—he laughed. Thought it was funny.
“She begged him to give the baby back,” Vince continued. “Said she’d sleep with him if he did. He told her she wasn’t his type, handed
the baby over, and walked out. It was like a game to him, to emotionally break my wife.”
Catherine’s voice was low. “I’m sorry.”
“I confronted him the next day. Punched him in that smug, self-satisfied jaw. Wish I’d broken his nose. Told him if I ever
saw him again, I’d kill him. I’m not proud of that, but he—he crossed the line. He always did. He laughed it off and walked
away.”
“What about your other brother, Frankie?”
“He hasn’t seen Garrett, either. He would have told me.”
“Any old friends? From high school or college?”
“I don’t know. Everyone likes Garrett at first. But I doubt he kept any of his friends. In college, he was more interested
in women.”
“A girlfriend?”
“A lot of them. None I remember specifically. I don’t even think I knew names.”
“You mentioned older women?”
“After college. He lived with that divorced friend of my mom’s.”
“Do you remember her name?”
“Blanche Richardson. She moved to Florida a few years ago—maybe Fort Myers?”
Catherine jotted it down. “Do you know how to reach her?”
“No. And even if I did, I wouldn’t. My mom cut her off years ago.”
“What about someone from high school?”
“Becca McCarthy. Garrett dated her for two, three years. Maybe longer. My parents liked her. I met her a couple times, she
was pretty and smart. I think they broke up when they went to different colleges. As I said—people really like Garrett. Until
he screws them over.”
Catherine asked Ryder to find Blanche Richardson and Becca McCarthy. She gave him all the information she had, which wasn’t
much.
It was after nine in the evening and she had a splitting headache. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning, which was
never good, but the thought of food made her feel ill. Her cell phone rang and she almost didn’t answer; it was her husband,
Chris. She hadn’t told him what happened to Matt because he had been in surgery this morning when she left; all she’d said
on his voicemail was that there was a situation in Florida, and she was traveling there with the team.
Matt was one of their closest friends. The best man in their wedding. Their daughter’s godfather. She had to tell Chris what
was going on.
“Chris,” she said. “Hello.”
“I’m sorry it took me so long to call you back—there were complications.”
“No apologies. Is your patient okay?”
“She’s in critical condition, but I’m hoping by morning I’ll be able to upgrade her. What about you? What’s wrong?”
She told him what had happened to Matt and Kara.
“They’re missing?” he asked, shocked.
“Abducted from the resort Sunday morning. Garrett Reid has a partner. I missed it.”
“Everyone missed it,” Chris said.
“I missed it. I’m the profiler. I should have seen it.”
“Why? Are you God?”
“Chris—”
“Catherine, you can’t blame yourself for this.”
“Like hell I can’t. This isn’t the first time I missed a profile and someone I care about—someone I love—got hurt.”
“Catherine, don’t do this to yourself.”
“I can’t stop thinking about Beth, about Matt, that I should have seen it.”
“Do you see it now?”
“I don’t know. I can’t tell if I’m pulling things out of thin air. He has a partner. That much is certain. But I haven’t had
time to study the murders again, to see if it was obvious and I just didn’t see.”
“Catherine, sweetheart, breathe.”
“If Matt dies, it’s my fault.”
“It’s not. Who’s with you down there?”
“Everyone.”
“You know what to do. You know how to find them.”
“They’ve been missing for nearly thirty-six hours. Every minute that passes puts them in greater jeopardy.”
“Trust the team,” Chris said. “No one is slacking.”
That was true. “We’re meeting at the resort when the sheriff takes over surveillance of our suspect, but I’m scared for Matt and Kara.
Ryder blames himself—because he suggested that they stay for a mini-vacation.
Michael is angry he didn’t stay in Florida with them, but he’s closed himself off, won’t even discuss anything but the work.
Jim is working far too hard, thinking all the answers are going to be in evidence he has already looked at a half dozen times. ”
“How many times have I heard you say that the only person responsible for a crime is the person who committed the crime?”
She smiled tiredly. “Quoting me to me?”
“You’re a smart woman, darling. You’ll find them. You know,” Chris said, “when I’m faced with an inexplicable case at the
hospital, when I don’t know why a child is ill or unresponsive, I go back to the beginning. The first time the child showed
signs that something was wrong. Haven’t you also said that you can trace a killer from before they started killing? What was
his trigger?”
“Knowing what I know about his childhood and college years, I would never have guessed that Garrett would turn into a killer.
A con artist, a manipulator—yes. He seduced older women, manipulated them into bed and out of money.”
“He didn’t kill them.”
“No. And there are no outstanding warrants, no arrests, no restraining orders, no investigations. No one filed a complaint
against him for theft, fraud, or assault. He’s clean as a whistle.”
“Then maybe it’s the partner who brought violence into their relationship.”
“What if the partner is a woman?” Catherine said.
“Is she?”
“We have some evidence that his partner is a woman. Which . . . well, I’ll be damned.”
“You figured it out.”
“Maybe. Maybe. I have to go. I love you, Chris. Give Lizzy a hug for me.”
“Will do. I love you, Catherine.”