Chapter 39 #2
“I didn’t kill anyone.”
“You simply abducted them, took them over state lines, and left them to die in a maze of deadly traps. Got it.”
Kara pulled out her phone and leaned forward. “We’ve done our homework. Let me show you how your wife has been lying to you
ever since you met her. Clara Dolan, thirty-five, born to Piper and Gerald Dolan, both college professors. Clara came into
her trust fund, established by her grandparents, when she was twenty-five. Ten million dollars. Nice. She moved the bulk of
her trust to three LLCs, using one of them to buy and sell property—in all the places you’ve lived with her. We’re still going
through her records, but we will find her. When we do, she’ll put everything on you—you know that, right?”
He had a slight smirk on his face, nothing too blatant, just a little arrogant tilt of his lips.
“You’ve probably never had to want for anything,” Kara continued. “Did you ever question where the money came from? How Audrey was able to buy a nice beach house? How she bought the farmland next to the cannery, where she held two people, including
a child, against their will?”
“You’re talking a lot, but I have nothing to say to you.”
“Here.” She turned her phone to show Garrett the evidence. “You need proof—I have proof.”
“You’ll lie about anything.”
“Here’s Clara’s high school graduation portrait.
” Kara looked at it, nodded, showed it to Garrett.
“She’s beautiful, that’s not in doubt. I mean, truly a natural beauty.
Nothing fake, no fillers, no cosmetic surgery.
She did lighten her hair recently, but this dark blond with all the light blond and amber highlights?
Gorgeous. When did she start dyeing her hair?
Before or after she found out that Becca McCarthy was a natural blonde? ”
“Don’t talk about Becca.”
“Becca’s parents liked you. They knew that Becca wanted to get back together. They were supportive. What did you tell Clara?”
“Her name is Audrey.”
“That’s what she told you. But she has other false identities, right?” Kara leaned forward. “Clara knew Emily Masters. She
hated her because Emily married Clara’s ex-boyfriend and supposedly took her job, or some such thing. But we talked to the
ex. He and Clara had been split for years. And Clara was a trainer at the gym . . . Emily didn’t take her job—Clara simply
wasn’t hired into a position that she wasn’t qualified for. And for that, Clara seduced Emily’s father and then exposed the
affair right before the wedding.” She showed him her phone again, which had a clip from an article that had a photo of Clara
and Emily’s father in a compromising position. “‘Clara Dolan,’ it says here,” Kara said. “Sure looks like your wife.”
“What is your point?”
“She’s been playing you for over seven years, ever since she killed Becca.”
Garrett scowled. “You’re trying to pit my wife and me against each other. It won’t work.”
“The police in Ventura County, where Becca disappeared while driving back to Santa Barbara, have renewed their investigation. The FBI is assisting them with facial recognition of all the security tapes they have in evidence. There was a lot of evidence, but they didn’t have a suspect.
Bet you that Clara is on the cameras. Gas station.
Convenience store. Red light camera. Somewhere.
Bet you that she doesn’t have an alibi. Yeah, sure, seven and a half years, who knows where they were?
But they still have Becca’s car. There is evidence in the car, and once they get a suspect they can get her DNA, her hair sample, her prints, and match it all up. ”
Kara didn’t know what the police had or didn’t have; most likely they no longer had the vehicle in storage, or if they did
it had been exposed to the elements. Seven years was a long time, and once they’d gone through it they may have given it back
to the family. They would have collected evidence, but what they had, Kara simply speculated.
But Garrett didn’t know that.
“Did you love her?”
“Of course I love my wife. You can’t make me talk about her.”
“I meant, did you love Becca?”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Was it a lie that her parents supported the relationship? That she was going to visit you in Scottsdale? That she still loved
you?”
“I’m not talking about Becca.”
For the first time, she saw something other than disinterest, annoyance, or arrogance. She saw . . . pain.
“If I can prove that your wife killed Becca, would you tell us where she is?”
“She didn’t even know Becca.”
“If you think that, I can’t help you.” Kara stood. “We’re going to find evidence in the cannery. You know we are. We have
a team going through Clara’s beach house. Do you think she left nothing behind that incriminates her . . . or you? Unless
you help us, there’s nothing I can do for you.”
She walked to the door.
Garrett said, “I need to find a new lawyer. He’ll work out a deal.”
“Okay,” she said, looked him in the eye. “When?”
“Tomorrow morning. He’ll call you.”
“He should call the DA of Flagler.”
“I want your number.”
“Then I want yours.” They already had his cell phone number, but this was a test.
Garrett rattled it off and Kara sent him a text message. Michael cleared his throat, but didn’t say anything.
“I’m an early riser,” Kara said. “If you want to talk, I’ll answer.”
Outside, Michael said, “What was that all about?”
“He’s going to lead us right to her,” Kara said.
“He knows we’re watching him.”
“He’s going to try to slip away. We need to be prepared.”
She slid into the sedan where Catherine was waiting. “We need to sit on him. He’s going to go after her. I think he’ll kill
her.”
“He believed you about Becca McCarthy?” Catherine asked.
“Not at first, but I think he believed you when you told him his wife was Clara Dolan. I don’t think he knew that, and because she lied to him, it makes him suspicious.
He’s going to think things through, put together past events, and when he has convinced himself that she killed Becca, he’ll
leave.”
“Interesting,” Catherine said. She called Detective Fuentes, relayed Kara’s theory. “Put your best people on him, but pull
back a little so he doesn’t see them. When he leaves the property, follow but be discreet and let me know.” She ended the
call and said to Kara, “I talked to Matt when you were inside. He made me promise to take you to the hospital.”
“That’s fine with me,” she said. “Do you think I could get my own clothes?”
“Already waiting for you.”