Chapter 28 #2
“This woman has multiple IDs, different names. They were all in that box.” She gestured to a box at the end of the dresser.
“I found it in her closet, but it wasn’t hidden.
Just sitting on a shelf. I glanced inside, thinking there’d be family photos or jewelry.
There’s no jewelry, but there’s an empty velvet box. And a photo album.”
He opened the small photo album with eight digital prints behind plastic. The cover read Silver Bells Chapel, Las Vegas, Nevada. The first page was a photo of male and female hands, with wedding rings, and the date. The other seven
pages were of the bride and groom at the cheap altar, slicing a small cake, and kissing.
Garrett Reid and Hope Davidson.
“She’s married,” Michael said, shocked. “To Reid.”
Sloane handed him the marriage certificate between Garrett Reid and Audrey Dolan.
“Audrey Dolan is the name on the SmartGirl LLCs,” he said. “Next month is their five-year anniversary. What else did you find?”
“She has documents under the names Audrey Reid, Audrey Dolan, Amber Dunning, and Hope Davidson, all out of Nevada. There’s
a birth certificate for Clara Dolan, born in Glendale, California. They all look legit, but they can’t all be real, right?
My guess is the birth certificate is her real name—it has an official seal and date stamp issued a month after her birth—but
it will need to be verified.”
“Send copies of everything to the team. I’m calling Tony.”
When Catherine learned that Garrett Reid was married and that his wife had a false identity and worked at the same resort,
she called John Anson and told him they needed to bring Reid back in to interview.
“I can’t force him to come in,” Anson said. “He’ll have to come in on his own, and there’s no reason for him to do so. We
may have to wait until Monday and ask the judge to revoke his bail—but he didn’t lie about being married. We never asked him
and no one mentioned it.”
“We need to bring him back into questioning because of this new information,” Catherine insisted. “Matt and Kara’s lives are in danger—certainly we have cause.”
“The best I can do is see if I can get a warrant to arrest him for obstruction, but that’s going to be a long shot.”
“I can bring him in on federal charges,” she said, though she had no idea what they might be. She’d have to talk to the AUSA
and that would take time—time they didn’t have.
“Good luck with that,” Anson said with a short laugh.
“I already had the FBI put out a BOLO on Hope Davidson, with her real name and other aliases.”
“She brings in a lawyer, she’s not going to talk,” Anson said, “and we have no evidence. That she has multiple identities
isn’t covered by the warrant. Meaning, we can’t arrest her for discovering false identification while searching for information
about the whereabouts of your agents.”
Catherine was getting very frustrated with the DA. “John, she and Reid worked together at two different resorts over the last
few years. They went out of their way to conceal that information from their employer. She used a false name in employment,
and hell, I don’t know, we can maybe get her on tax or social security fraud if she has multiple social security numbers to
go with all her names. We need to bring her in—she’s Reid’s partner.” Before he could object, she added quickly, “We have
multiple FBI offices in every city where they worked interviewing staff and anyone who might have known them, and the LA office
is working on finding out who Clara Dolan is—if it’s in fact Hope’s real birth certificate. We have our white-collar crimes
expert looking into each identity as well as the LLCs that we uncovered, one of which owns the property she lives in.”
“And all that may be thrown out if the information was obtained in a fraudulent manner if not covered by the warrant.”
“Unless her identities lead us to Matt and Kara.”
“You’re stretching it.”
“And you’re being too cautious!”
“I don’t want two people to get away with multiple homicides,” Anson snapped, “and you could be tanking our already tenuous
case.”
“If we save Matt and Kara, it’s worth the risk,” Catherine said. “These two have dropped bodies across the country, I’m positive—Emily
and Josh Henderson were not the first two victims. We just have to connect them to unsolved murders in the cities where we
know they lived.”
“You’re grasping at straws.”
“It’s all we have.”
Anson sighed. “If Graves can convince Reid to come in for a second interview, I’ll be there. But I doubt it’ll work. They’re
holding all the cards right now.”
Catherine had to try. She called Franklin Graves’s office; voicemail picked up. She left a brief message that she would like
to arrange an interview with his client, that it was both important and time sensitive, and left her number. Then she called
his cell phone number and left the same message.
She went back to the security office where Ryder had continued to review all recordings to find out exactly when Hope Davidson,
aka Audrey Reid, had left the resort. He was on the phone and writing on a notepad. He glanced at her, and she knew he had
learned something important. A moment later, he ended the call and said, “Becca McCarthy has been missing for over seven years.
She disappeared driving from Los Angeles to Santa Barbara where she was in graduate school.”
“I assume there was a police investigation?”
“Yes. Her parents lived in Pasadena not far from the Reids.
She came home for two weeks at Christmas, and her parents said Garrett came over for dinner the day after Christmas.
He told them he had a job offer in Scottsdale and was looking forward to moving.
Becca confided in her sister that Garrett had asked if she would consider relocating to Scottsdale when she graduated in the spring, that he still loved her and if they were in the same place at the same time maybe it would work.
Becca said she would—because seeing him again brought back all the memories and she still loved him.
“Garrett came over two days before Becca left to say goodbye,” Ryder continued. “She said she would visit him in February
and according to her family, they were both excited about this quote, ‘new phase of their relationship.’ She disappeared on
the drive back to Santa Barbara. They found her phone in her car by the side of the road, but never found her body. They brought
out dogs to search the area.”
“What happened to her car?” Catherine asked.
“Mechanical trouble. Forensics were inconclusive whether it was an accident or intentional.”
“If she was walking for help, she would have taken her phone.”
“She called for roadside assistance. An hour later they arrived and Becca was gone.”
“What did the police think?”
“That someone saw an attractive woman standing by the side of the road and took advantage of the opportunity. It’s gone cold,”
Ryder added.
“Did they interview Garrett?”
“Yes. He showed no sign that he was involved, and seemed upset by the news. In addition, he was already in Scottsdale and
his alibi was ironclad—he was training that night with his manager and other staff. The family didn’t suspect him then, still
don’t. They said Garrett and Becca had wanted to explore their relationship again, but neither was in a rush. Becca planned
to graduate, and confirmed to her parents what she’d said to her sister, that she’d visit Garrett in Scottsdale and if the
feelings were still there, she would move in with him.”
“Did you tell them—”
“I didn’t talk to them,” Ryder clarified.
“I spoke to the detective in charge of the missing persons investigation. The detective always looks at current and former partners, and Garrett had no motive, no opportunity. Becca had a college boyfriend for a couple of years that the detective seriously looked at and still thinks he might be involved—he doesn’t have an alibi and he had the opportunity, since he lived in the area.
But motive was murky and they had no physical evidence. ”
“Clara Dolan,” Catherine muttered.
“Garrett’s wife?”
“They met at some point, possibly before they left Los Angeles. She was born in Glendale, which is only a few miles from Pasadena.
A big city, but this all seems too coincidental. Could they have met in college? Through friends? I have LA FBI working on
getting her history. We’ll talk to her family, maybe they know Garrett.” Clara Dolan’s birth certificate showed her to be
only five years older than Garrett—maybe they had a relationship back then. Maybe Garrett didn’t want his ex-girlfriend in
the picture and had Clara, who had no connection to Becca McCarthy, take her out. Definitely possible . . . but Catherine
would need to prove they knew each other seven years ago.
And maybe . . . just maybe . . . Garrett was serious about getting back with his ex and Clara didn’t like that and took the
competition out.
Another possibility.
“One more thing,” Ryder said. “I have a photo of Becca McCarthy.”
He turned his phone to show her.
Twenty-three-year-old Becca was blonde, with an engaging smile and sparkling blue eyes. She was very pretty, the stereotypical
girl next door. Though her hair was longer, she looked surprisingly like Kara—if Kara had a lighter, whimsical side. In fact,
this last week while they were undercover, Kara had played the part of a happy bride . . . making her look even more like
Becca.
All the victims had the same general look, which was why Catherine had believed that Garrett was a lone killer targeting a specific type, but Kara came closest. Not to Emily Henderson, but to Becca McCarthy—Garrett’s first serious girlfriend.
Did Garrett choose the victims because the brides reminded him of his missing girlfriend?
Or did Clara choose the victims because the brides reminded her of his missing girlfriend?
Where was Clara the day Becca McCarthy disappeared?
“Ask the detective to send us everything he has on Becca McCarthy’s disappearance,” Catherine said.
“It’s already on its way,” Ryder said, refreshing his email.
Catherine’s phone vibrated. It was Michael.
“Do you have something new?” she asked.
“Alena Porter, the Sapphire Shoals manager, is unconscious and on her way to the hospital,” Michael said.
“What happened?”
“Before we talked to Davidson, I was looking to speak to her. She was supposed to be on site, but then we were told she went
home sick. She fit the profile, even though we were leaning toward Hope Davidson, so I asked Detective Fuentes to follow up.
When she arrived at her house, she found Porter unconscious in her vehicle, which was parked in the garage with the door open,
ignition off—as if she came home, tried to get into the house, then passed out. She’s unresponsive.”
“People do get sick. Do you think she was poisoned?”
“Yes,” Michael said. “Fuentes retraced her steps and learned that immediately before she left, she went to the gym. She had
told her assistant that she’d be back in her office, but then left from the gym saying she wasn’t feeling well. Hope—Audrey
Reid—was still there.”
“You’re thinking what exactly?” Catherine asked, though she was beginning to see what Michael was seeing.
“That Porter may have been suspicious. She didn’t recognize Audrey from the photo, but perhaps there was something else that triggered a memory, before or after she saw her at the gym.”
“Have Fuentes follow up with the hospital to find out her status and what might have happened,” Catherine said.
“Fuentes already has a deputy there and we’ll know when and if she regains consciousness. I’ll go back to the gym and talk
to the other staff.”
“Let me know,” Catherine said and then filled him in on what she and Ryder had learned. “We’re getting closer, Michael.”
“It’s taking too long,” he said and hung up.