37
“JB had just said Sid would kill him if he talked,” Noelle muttered again.
Rowan squeezed her shoulder in sympathy, but the detective didn’t appear to notice. The women had driven back to the department’s conference room after JB’s body was taken away. The police response to the shooting had been immediate. Patrol cars with screaming sirens had streamed in, and a perimeter had been rapidly established as they combed the area for the shooter.
JB never took a breath. He’d died instantly.
Sid. He has to be the killer.
Rowan had finally stopped shaking, but Noelle continued to beat herself up for exposing JB.
“No one would have been prepared for that,” Rowan had told her several times. “Why wouldn’t you walk him to a patrol car?”
Her words had no effect. Noelle seemed determined to shoulder nearly as much responsibility for JB’s death as the shooter.
Detective Shults entered the room. “I can’t find a Sid mentioned anywhere in cases related to Rod or Evan. I’ve checked known aliases and am still coming up empty. It has to be a nickname that’s unknown to us.”
“Where’s Maxine?” Noelle asked, her gaze on her laptop. She was looking up previous addresses for JB, hoping to find a connection to Sid.
Lori glanced at Rowan. They all knew Maxine was still investigating on-site at the Woods home. “She’s at the Woods property.”
“Maybe some of the other detectives who worked with Evan would remember a Sid,” suggested Rowan. “Sounds like this man and Evan really butted heads. Evan might have talked to someone here about it.”
“Good idea. I ran the name by Lieutenant Ogden, but I’ll ask around some more.” Lori paused. “Ogden says you’re to meet with psych,” she hesitantly told Noelle.
“Later.” Noelle didn’t look up.
Lori studied her for a long moment and then silently left the room.
“I don’t have time for that right now,” Noelle said tightly. “Ogden requested a local department to deliver JB’s death notification to his parents in South Carolina. I’ve found someone who I assume is the sister JB mentioned during my interview. She’s thirteen years older than him, but at one point they shared the same address.” Determination filled her tone. “She might know who this Sid is. I’ll notify her in person.”
Rowan eyed the detective. Both of them had turned over their bloody clothes to the investigation team and then showered in the Deschutes County locker room. Rowan had put on the change of clothes she always kept in her SUV, and Noelle now wore yoga clothing from her gym bag. The detective’s platinum hair was damp and hung straight, her face devoid of makeup.
Rowan had never seen Noelle not perfectly put together.
“It’s almost six,” said Noelle. “A good chance to catch the sister at home if she works normal hours.” She pushed back her chair and stood but then steadied herself with a hand on the table.
“I’ll go with you,” said Rowan. “Let me drive. That’ll give you a chance to think about what to say.” It was a weak excuse, but Rowan didn’t think Noelle should be driving at the moment. She was deep in self-blame. “Neither of us has eaten since breakfast. Food first.”
“I don’t think I can eat.” Noelle’s voice was soft, but she hadn’t argued with Rowan’s suggestion that she drive, so Rowan took that as a win. And a sign that Noelle’s batteries were running low.
“Soup,” said Rowan. “Something easy and warm. Maybe some fresh bread. I’ll order ahead at Panera, and we can stop for a few minutes on the way.”
Noelle reluctantly nodded.
“Do you have a jacket?” asked Rowan, taking in Noelle’s pink yoga pants. “A department one?”
Noelle snorted. “Not very official looking, am I? Yes, I’ll grab it.” She sighed and finally met her gaze. “Thanks, Rowan. It’s been several shitty days for you, yet you’re holding it together for me.”
Rowan appreciated the words but didn’t consider herself to be holding it together. “I need to keep moving. Stay busy. Not sit for too long with my thoughts.”
That was a lie. She briefly closed her eyes, taking deep breaths.
Evan is always on my mind.
She wished Thor were there; she needed to sink her hands into his fur, but she’d had Malcolm come get him, not knowing when she’d be home.
“We’ll find Evan and Zack,” Noelle said, and she gave Rowan a tight hug, resolve in her words. “I know we will.” Then Noelle stepped back and looked her in the eye. “Let’s go get some soup.”
An hour later, they parked at the curb in front of a small house. An older black SUV was in the driveway. “Someone is home,” said Rowan, turning off her vehicle.
She and Noelle felt better after getting some food in their bodies. During the drive, Noelle had rehearsed what she wanted to say to the sister, and they’d talked a bit about the shooting.
“The shooter today was very accurate,” said Noelle. “It reminded me of when Charlie Graham was shot at the auto body shop. If he and Evan hadn’t just moved that second, Evan would have caught the bullet—and that shot was fired from a good distance, like today’s was.”
“Sid must have extensive shooting experience or training,” said Rowan. “I wonder if that could help you find him. Check local ranges to see if someone knows a Sid.”
“I’ll pass that on to Maxine to look into, but I’m hoping JB’s sister knows where to find Sid,” said Noelle, tipping her head at the house. “JB said Sid asked her for a gun.”
“Seven years ago,” added Rowan. “And that’s a big maybe. JB’s memory wasn’t great.”
Noelle didn’t reply. Rowan glanced over and saw her expression had blanked.
Too fresh.
“What’s the sister’s name?” Rowan asked to redirect Noelle’s thoughts.
“Lucinda Parnell.”
“JB’s last name was Fry, right?”
“Yes. Jeremiah Bradley Fry. Parnell is probably her married name.”
Rowan sensed the detective had needed to say JB’s full name out loud. A memorialization of the victim whose violent death she’d witnessed.
Noelle opened her door. Rowan did the same, and they headed up the crumbling walkway. The small home was from a previous decade. Simple design. One that didn’t stand out or catch the eye. Probably built in the 1960s. The blue paint needed a touch-up, and the steps creaked as they moved onto the front porch. Noelle rang the doorbell, and she automatically stepped to the side. Suddenly feeling vulnerable, Rowan did the same and then felt slightly foolish.
This is a condolence call. Not a suspect visit.
A woman opened the door, and Rowan tried to place her familiar face.
“Cynthia?” Noelle asked in a confused voice.
Even in the poor light, Rowan saw her pale as she grabbed the doorframe.
“Detective Marshall,” the woman answered, surprise in her voice. “What are you doing here?”
Rowan figured out where she’d seen the woman.
She’s an evidence tech.
“Is your full name Lucinda Parnell?” Noelle asked.
“Yes. But I go by Cynthia.” The woman blinked rapidly. “What’s going on?”
“Is JB Fry your younger brother?”
Cynthia sucked in a breath and tightened her grip on the wood frame. “What happened? Is JB okay?”
Oh no. This poor woman.
Wait. Cynthia would have access to department information ... Was she passing it on to JB? And he told Sid?
Rowan met Noelle’s sharp gaze.
She’s wondering the same.
“No, I’m sorry, he’s not,” said Noelle. “He passed away this afternoon. Can we come in for a few minutes?”
Cynthia froze for a long moment, blinking as Noelle’s words took time to register. Then she silently took a step back, opening the door wider.
It occurred to Rowan how horrible it would have been for Cynthia if she had been assigned to process a crime scene and then discovered the victim was her brother.
Inside the home, Noelle took charge, leading a numb Cynthia to a table in the kitchen nook and encouraging her to sit down. “Is anyone else here?” Noelle asked as she and Rowan took seats at the table.
“No. My daughter is at a friend’s.”
Rowan noticed she didn’t wear a wedding ring and assumed no one else lived there.
“What happened?” Cynthia asked, looking from Noelle to Rowan and back. Her face was still very pale.
Noelle touched Cynthia’s wrist and held her gaze, sorrow in her eyes. “I’m really sorry, but he was shot at his apartment.”
Cynthia shuddered and placed a hand over her eyes. Tears flowed down her cheeks. “Did he suffer for long?”
“There was no suffering,” said Noelle. “It happened instantly. I’m confident in that fact because I was with him.”
The woman looked up, bewilderment in her gaze. “Why were you there? Was this a police shooting?” she whispered, her expression changing to one of horror.
“No,” Noelle said firmly. “Police were not involved. I was at his apartment to talk with JB about a case, and we’d just stepped out of his apartment when there was a single shot. I’m sorry, but we haven’t caught the shooter yet. Police responded immediately but were unable to find him.” She took Cynthia’s hand. “We will find who did this.”
Noelle is hiding her suspicions very well.
Suspicion that Cynthia was the department leaker didn’t negate the fact that her brother had just been murdered.
Could she know where Evan is?
Cynthia pulled her hand away, dropped her head onto her arms on the table, and broke into full-blown sobs. Noelle placed her hand on Cynthia’s shoulder and let her cry. Rowan had to look away, letting her gaze wander over their surroundings. She stopped on a framed photo collage of a young woman, the girl’s looks implying she was Cynthia’s daughter. Rowan wondered how close the daughter had been to her uncle.
Someone else to notify.
Cynthia started to wail, and Noelle shot Rowan a glance, her hand still on the woman’s shoulder, patting gently.
The poor woman is a wreck. How will Noelle question her about leaking department information?
Cynthia lifted her head to briefly rub her eyes. “This is all my fault,” she said amid tears. “It’s all my fault. I didn’t know.”
“JB’s death is not your fault,” said Noelle, her voice low and sympathetic.
But Rowan saw the stricken look in Noelle’s eyes. She still blamed herself.
“I’m gonna throw up.” Cynthia started to dry-heave, and Rowan darted out of her chair to grab the garbage bin at the end of the kitchen counter. She slid it next to Cynthia.
“The only person at fault is the one that pulled the trigger,” Rowan said to Cynthia, but she included Noelle with her gaze. “And the police will catch that person. He’ll pay for this.”
Cynthia continued to dry-heave over the garbage can. “JB struggles,” she forced out between heaves. “He forgets. He doesn’t understand what’s going on sometimes.”
“He told us that,” said Noelle.
The heaves eased off, but her sobs continued. “I should have looked out for him better. This is all my fault.”
“Rowan is right. The only person responsible was the one holding the gun.” Noelle’s gaze sharpened. “Cynthia,” she said, slowing her words and speaking firmly. “JB told us he once loaned a gun to someone named Sid. Do you know who that is?”
“Oh my God. You know about Sid?” Cynthia’s breaths turned heavy and wet as more tears ran.
She knows him.
What about Evan?
“Yes, he told us about Sid,” said Noelle, controlled excitement building in her voice. “But that’s not his real name, right? Do you know it?”
Instead of answering, Cynthia turned to Rowan, pleading in her eyes. “I’m so sorry about Evan. I know how upset you must be. It’s just horrible.” She wiped her nose, never breaking eye contact.
Rowan lost her breath.
She knows what happened to him.
Anger flooded her. “What’s Sid’s name?” Rowan forced out. “Tell us where to find him. He has Evan and Zack, doesn’t he? ”
Cynthia flinched, dropping her gaze. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of it.” A fresh round of sobs started.
“Cynthia! Sid’s. Name. Now.” Noelle’s fingers dug into Cynthia’s shoulder. Like Rowan’s, her sympathy had rapidly evaporated.
“Dale Forbes!” she shrieked. “But he changed his first name to Sid! I didn’t know he would do this!” She covered her eyes with her hands.
“Where is he?” Noelle turned her attention to her phone screen as she sent off multiple texts relaying the name.
“I don’t know!”
“Where’s he live? Where’s he work?” Noelle shouted, looking from her screen to Cynthia and back.
“He doesn’t work! He lives in that house from this morning! If he’s not there, I don’t know where to find him!”
“Is Evan alive? Is Zack?” Rowan spit out the questions, barely able to breathe. “What’s he done to them?”
“I don’t know! I don’t know anything! I heard about the raid and assumed that would be the end. I was as shocked as anyone that no one was there. I don’t know where they went!”
Noelle put her phone to her ear, pushed out of her chair, and strode from the kitchen. Rowan caught some of her instructions to someone to find everything they could on Dale or Sid Forbes. Friends, property, employment, prior arrests.
Cynthia’s tear-filled gaze met Rowan’s. “I’m truly sorry. I know how terrified you must be for him.”
“You have no idea!” Cynthia’s fears had made Rowan’s escalate.
“He made us do it,” Cynthia choked out between sobs. “He threatened my daughter. He threatened my job. I’m a single mom. I need my job!”
“Evan needs to live!” Rowan said in shock. “Sophia needs her son!”
“I said I’m sorry !”
“Shut. Up,” ordered Noelle as she came back in the room. “Get a hold of yourself now. I need to know everything about Sid Forbes.”
Cynthia sucked in several trembling breaths. It took three attempts to form words. “Years ago he dated my aunt. I didn’t know much about him. He seemed decent enough.”
Decent.
How wrong she was.
“I’d been divorced for about five years. Kinsey was ten, and I’d been working for the county for several years as an evidence tech. I loved my job,” she said, her gaze pleading with the women to believe her.
“Get on with it,” snapped Noelle. She stood at the table, feet planted apart, continuing to send off emails and texts as she occasionally shot Cynthia angry looks.
“Blackmail,” Cynthia managed to say. “Sid blackmailed me. I don’t know how he found out, but I’d screwed up some fingerprint evidence on a robbery case early in my career.” She looked down at her clasped hands. “I moved some evidence around to cover it up, but I thought no one knew. I crossed a line.”
Rowan couldn’t speak.
She threw all her integrity out the window.
“But it was okay!” Cynthia turned desperate eyes to Rowan. “The guy was guilty. Everyone knew it. What I did supported that!”
“Jesus Christ.” Noelle was floored. “You should have been fired! Every case you’ve worked on over the years is now suspect. What a fucking mess!”
“I know!” Cynthia shouted back. “ I know! But I needed that job!”
“Why did Sid blackmail you? What did he want?” asked Rowan, trying to keep focused on Sid and not Cynthia’s massive breach of integrity.
Cynthia seemed to shrink into her chair as she kept her gaze down. “Sid got arrested and immediately contacted JB. JB caught me just as I was arriving to start a scene investigation and gave me a gun. Sid wanted it planted at that scene.”
“Dale Forbes was arrested for manslaughter charges seven years ago, but the case was thrown out,” Noelle read from her phone. She stared at Cynthia. “Is that the case you’re talking about?”
Cynthia nodded. “Sid was screwing around with a married woman. The husband came home and caught them. Sid shot him right there in the bedroom, claiming the husband had pulled a gun and was about to shoot him with it.”
“Let me guess,” said Noelle. “The husband’s gun wasn’t immediately found at the scene. You put it there and miraculously found it under something while collecting evidence.”
Cynthia stared down at the table. “And later added the husband’s prints to it.”
“I’m fucking stunned .” Her phone rang, and Noelle strode out of the room again.
“He threatened my daughter,” Cynthia said quietly to Rowan. “He said he’d make her disappear and no one would find the body.” Her hysterics seemed to have passed, but tears still streamed. She gazed at the photo collage on the wall, her eyes softening. “She’s my everything. All I do is for her.” She gave a shuddering breath. “Sid said the shooting was truly an accident,” Cynthia continued. “He said he only meant to scare the husband with a shot, but the man stepped into the bullet.”
“I think Sid fed you a line of bullshit,” said Rowan. “Trying to make you feel better about what he asked you to do.”
“I felt horrible,” she whispered.
Noelle returned, fury still burning in her eyes. “Rod and Evan were the detectives on Sid’s manslaughter case,” she announced to Rowan.
Rowan hadn’t seen that coming. “But Sid got off. Why would he come after Evan and Rod years later? What happened with Rod?” she snapped at Cynthia.
“I liked Rod.” Her eyes welled. “I worked with him several times. He always had a bad joke ready to tell me. I missed him when he retired.”
“Get to the fucking point.” Noelle was steaming.
“Rod started asking questions a few weeks ago,” said Cynthia. “Two other techs mentioned they’d run into him somewhere, and he’d brought up a few old cases. I saw him at Ed’s Tavern, and he worked a few questions about Sid’s case into our conversation.”
“Sid’s case wasn’t in Rod’s filing cabinet,” Noelle told Rowan. “Probably one of the missing ones. And it never came on our radar because Sid wasn’t convicted. We were focused on reviewing cases where the suspect ended up in prison. We assumed”—Noelle winced—“that someone was focused on payback for prison time.”
“I heard about the filing cabinet from Sid,” said Cynthia. “He broke in and grabbed his file. Said he took a few others, so his missing one wouldn’t seem obvious.”
“None of this explains why he killed Rod.” Rowan’s brain was trying to keep up.
“Sid believed that Rod figured out I planted the gun,” said Cynthia. “Sid was convinced he’d end up in prison if the case was reopened. The victim’s wife swore her husband didn’t own a gun, and there was no record of him purchasing one. The detectives were skeptical the husband pulled a gun until one showed up.”
“But Rod was talking to people about other cases too. Not just Sid’s,” said Noelle. “Evan and I visited Damian Collinson in prison to find out why Rod recently visited him.”
“Collinson,” muttered Cynthia, looking at the ceiling in thought. “Jewelry store robberies?”
“Yes. Damian admitted he’d done the robberies, but did you mess with the evidence anyway?”
“I worked only one of those robberies. It was straightforward. Collinson’s blood was at the scene, and it was seen on camera when he accidentally cut himself. I never tampered with evidence in any other cases after Sid’s,” she said emphatically. “I wasn’t about to get blackmailed again. Plus I had to live with the guilt.”
Rowan turned to Noelle. “Could Cynthia be the common factor in Rod’s filing cabinet cases? Was Rod looking for proof that she might have tampered with other cases? Making it more likely that she would plant a gun on Sid’s manslaughter case?”
“I didn’t mess with evidence on other cases!”
“I don’t think you have the right to be indignant about anything at the moment,” Noelle stated. “Your abuse of evidence is what started this.”
Cynthia slumped in her chair.
Noelle set down her phone and removed zip cuffs from her jacket. “Stand up and turn around, Cynthia. You’re under arrest.”