Chapter 10
TEN
Josie’s pulse quickened as she approached the glass door of Merrifort Meadow Glamping Company’s main office.
Even from outside, she could hear the raised voice of a very angry man.
Turner trailed behind her, scrolling on his phone.
She resisted the urge to ask him what was so important that he couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to their current circumstances.
Turner had dealt with Maxine Barnes’s husband before.
In fact, Turner considered Charles Barnes the main suspect in hers and Haven’s murders.
Josie had expected a little more enthusiasm from him when it came to questioning the man.
Then again, they’d spent the last couple of hours driving from place to place trying to track Barnes down.
The ME in Fauset County, whose border touched Denton’s northeast corner, had made the death notification concerning his wife and daughter at the apartment he’d moved into, but when she and Turner stopped by, he was no longer there.
A neighbor had sent them to his friend’s house.
The friend had told them he was on his way here.
She pushed through the door into a small, rustically decorated lobby to find Charles Barnes towering over the young woman behind the front desk.
He was easily six foot four, wide and bulky, the back of his suit jacket straining against his shoulder blades as he stabbed a meaty finger into the woman’s face.
“I don’t give a fuck about your client confidentiality policy,” he roared, spittle flying from his face. “If you don’t tell me exactly where my wife and daughter were staying, you’re going to be sorry.”
The woman had to be in her early to mid-twenties. A college student, maybe. Her nametag read Taulara. A few strands of dark hair fell loose from her ponytail as she shook her head at Charles. “I can’t do that. I have to call my super—”
Charles leaned over the countertop, his snarl putting Josie’s instincts on high alert. “What did I just tell you? Don’t fuck with me, little girl.”
“Or what?” Josie drew up beside him. Her voice was calm, even though every cell in her body twitched with the overwhelming desire to punch the guy’s next words right out of his mouth.
“Stay out of this,” he told her with a dismissive glance.
He missed the firearm at her waist, but Taulara didn’t.
Her shoulders relaxed a little even though her brown eyes remained wide with fear.
For a split second, they locked onto something behind Josie.
Turner. He was thinner than Charles Barnes but took up just as much room.
She wondered if he’d put his damn phone away but wasn’t about to take her eyes off Charles to check.
Josie sighed and flashed her credentials. “Don’t think I will, Mr. Barnes.”
From where she stood, she could see his stubble-lined face was red, beads of sweat dotting his upper lip. His dirty-blond hair was thinning and uncombed.
Slowly, his head swiveled toward her, eyes roving from her face to her credentials, to her gun. “How do you know my name?”
Before Josie could answer, he turned back to Taulara and pointed at the cell phone she clutched to her chest. “You called the damn police?”
“No, no, I—”
He slapped both hands against the countertop.
His upper body angled forward. Josie tensed, thinking he was going to lunge for Taulara.
It wouldn’t be the first time some ornery citizen did something monumentally stupid right in front of a police officer.
She called his name again, told him to step back in her loudest and most commanding voice.
Satisfaction flared in her gut when she registered his hesitation. Maybe he wasn’t that far gone.
Before she could give him further instructions, Turner’s tall frame cut between them.
All Josie saw was the white of Turner’s dress shirt as his back shielded Charles from view.
For a guy whose natural speed setting was saunter, he moved lightning fast. Quicker than Josie had time to process.
Taulara let out a surprised shriek as Charles Barnes landed flat on his stomach with a floor-shaking thud.
Turner squatted next to him, trapping his arms behind his back and yanking his hands up toward his head until Barnes grunted.
“Remember me?” Turner asked.
“Get off me.”
“Why don’t you tell Detective Quinn here how you and I met?”
“Screw you. Get your hands off me.”
Turner looked up at Josie with a tight smile. “So you don’t remember the day your daughter called the police because she thought you were going to hit her mother?”
“What?” Barnes choked out.
“You don’t remember me coming to speak to you about that incident?”
“Piss off.” Barnes squirmed in Turner’s hold. “I don’t have to talk to you.”
Josie watched, half shocked and half fascinated. Turner’s entire body vibrated with rage and yet, his voice sounded almost bored.
“Fine, then I’ll talk. Tell me, do you get off on threatening women?”
“Turner,” Josie said.
“Let me up,” Charles growled. “I didn’t do anything.”
Turner palmed the side of his face, pressing it into the thin gray carpet. “I just watched you threaten that young woman back there before lunging at her while disregarding my colleague’s instructions. Also, you pissed me off, so yeah, you did some stuff.”
“Let me up,” Charles insisted, his words garbled from the force of Turner’s hand pressing his face into the floor. “You can’t do this to me.”
“Turner,” Josie said again.
“Pennsylvania criminal code title 18, chapter five, section 508(d)(1) says I can.”
Charles fell silent.
“What?” Turner taunted. “You got nothing to say to that? Not feeling so tough all of a sudden? Here’s what’s going to happen.
I’m going to get you to your feet. You’re going to apologize to this poor woman behind the counter.
Then you’re going to take a ride with me and Detective Quinn to the police station.
You will calm down. You will be respectful. You will answer our questions.”
With no effort at all, Turner dragged the man to his feet, holding his wrists behind his back and pushing him into the front desk. “Let’s hear it.”
“I’m sorry,” Charles mumbled at a stunned Taulara without looking at her.
With another shove, Turner guided him to the door. Josie watched as he deposited Charles into the back of her SUV. She took a brief statement from Taulara behind the counter. Barnes had shown up a few minutes before they did, demanding she direct him to the tent his wife and daughter had rented.
“He wanted to collect their things,” Taulara said. “Which, honestly, would be good for us, but we hadn’t heard from you guys about whether we could let people into the tent yet.”
“It’s been processed already,” Josie said. “Anyone can enter it, and you can release the contents to Mr. Barnes, provided he stays calm. Was he acting like that from the moment he walked in?”
Taulara shook her head quickly, ponytail swooshing across her back. “No. He was quiet when he got here although he looked like he’d been crying, maybe? Then he went from quiet to really mad super fast.”
Josie took down the woman’s information before joining Turner and Charles Barnes in her SUV. During the drive to the stationhouse, she stole glances at Charles. He was fixated on the city streets flying by. His expression had gone from furious to blank.
In the last twenty-four hours, Josie and Turner had been able to review text messages between Charles and Maxine.
Not only had he moved out of their house, he and Maxine Barnes were officially getting a divorce.
However, things had been extremely contentious and ugly.
Josie doubted he had had time to fully process his loss.
Perhaps his anger felt like a safer emotion to handle right now than grief.
Josie knew better than anyone how differently it affected people.
Was Charles Barnes in denial? A lack of emotion regarding his wife’s death might not be all that surprising, but what kind of father was more concerned with retrieving his family’s personal possessions than his daughter’s murder?