Chapter 10
“Ithink he felt like he lost control of the situation, and he killed her,” Carolyn said. “It’s obvious.”
“Who?”
“Her ex-husband, Grant Peterson. They were fighting over custody of the kids. Now that son of a bitch is going to get them.” She shook her head in disbelief.
“Was there a history of violence?” I asked.
Carolyn’s eyes rounded. “Oh, yeah. He would just fly into a rage. There were times when she had bruises on her arms. One time, she had a black eye. She tried to tell me she fell, but I knew better.”
“Did she ever make a police report?”
“No. I think she was scared to. Grant would have flipped out. She’d finally had enough and gotten a divorce. Grant still tried to control her. He’s not the type of guy that likes to lose. But he lost her. That’s for sure.”
“When did you arrive?”
She shrugged. “I’m not really sure. James called. I told him to take his sister to the neighbors, just in case the killer was still in the house. I got here maybe 5 minutes later, waited for the county to arrive, then got the kids.”
“Did you see anyone in the area when you first arrived?”
Carolyn shook her head.
“Did you come into the kitchen?”
She sniffled and nodded, and her eyes welled. “My heart stopped when I saw her like that. We were always like this,” she said, crossing her fingers. “I felt gutted.”
“What did you do next?”
"I hoped that she was still alive. I'm sure I was just in denial. I walked across the kitchen, knelt down beside her, and felt for a pulse. She was cold.” Tears spilled over her lids again.
"What did you do after that?”
“I left and went next door to see the kids.”
"Through the back door?" I asked.
Carolyn nodded.
"Did you step in any blood?”
Her shoulders rose and fell. "It's possible. I tried not to.”
"Let me see the soles of your shoes.”
She showed me. There was no blood on her shoes or clothing. You couldn’t have stabbed someone this many times and not gotten covered in blood.
“I’ll need contact information for Grant,” I said.
She nodded and dug out her phone. I handed her a card. Carolyn texted the info.
"Is there anyone else that she was at odds with?” I asked.
Carolyn thought about it for a moment. "I’m not really sure. Hannah could be a strong personality.”
“In what way?”
“She wasn’t always easy to get along with. She liked things her way.”
“How was your relationship?”
“Oh, we could fight like anyone else. But at the end of the day, I’d have taken a bullet for that woman.” She paused. “You should talk to Scout Carrington.”
“Who’s that?”
“Hannah’s best friend. She might be able to tell you more about her feud with Sutton.”
“Feud?”
“That damn pumpkin carving contest.”
JD and I shared a look.
Carolyn‘s eyes rounded with recognition. “Oh my God, I didn’t even think about that. The pumpkin!” Her mind processed everything. “Do you think Sutton came over here, and they got into an argument?”
"Tell me more about Sutton.”
"Well, Scout can tell you more than I can.
She'll know all the details. But you know how the Stingray Bay women are. They're always trying to one-up each other. That pumpkin carving contest has become a major deal. The way these women brag about the trophy, you’d think it was an Olympic gold medal.” Carolyn gave a disapproving look.
"You'd think they'd have better things to occupy their time with, but some of these women have too much money and too much time—and not enough attention from their husbands, if you know what I mean.”
JD and I waited for her to continue.
"There was some big brouhaha about the contest last year.
Everybody thought Sutton was going to win.
Then something happened to her pumpkin. Some drunk guy stumbled onto her carving table, knocked the pumpkin to the ground, and it did what pumpkins do when they hit concrete.
It split open. Ruined her creation. She blamed Hannah.
Said she paid the guy to do it on purpose.
Accused my sister of bribing judges. You know, nonsense like that.
Ever since then, those two have been at each other's throats.” Carolyn's eyes filled again. "Maybe Sutton took it too far.”
"You have contact information for Sutton?”
"I don't. That's not a bitch that I like to talk to.”
I thanked her for her cooperation.
We interviewed the kids individually, but they didn't have much to add. Obviously, still traumatized by the event, they were in a daze. I asked if their father had been by the house, and neither said they had seen him.
Both children had blood on the soles of their shoes from when they discovered their mother. It explained the multiple sizes and tread patterns. There wasn’t any blood spatter on the tops of their shoes. I didn’t think the kids were responsible. That was something too heinous to even consider.
Phil, a forensic guy, told me he’d identified four distinct tread patterns from partial footprints. Two belonged to the kids. The other two were in question.
JD and I examined them, and Dietrich had taken multiple photos.
“More than one killer?” JD muttered.
I shrugged.
Brenda and her crew bagged the remains, transferred her to a gurney, and wheeled her out through the back door.
Paris and her camera crew were ready to capture the money shot as the ME’s crew wheeled the body down the driveway to the medical examiner's van.
JD and I stepped outside and made our way back to the Porsche.
Paris closed in. "Deputy Wild, what can you tell us?"
"I can't discuss ongoing investigations," I said.
"Is this another werewolf attack?" I think she said it just to get under my skin.
I gave her a flat look. "No. This is not related to the previous incident at Echo Point.”
"I heard the victim was brutally attacked. Are you saying there is another predator on the loose in Coconut Key?”
"I'm saying this predator walks upright."
"Should residents be concerned?”
I said nothing and stepped out of frame. I had already said too much.
We talked to Erickson and Faulkner.
"None of the neighbors saw anything," Erickson said. “No video doorbell footage either.”
A frown tensed my mouth.
"What do you think about this one?" he asked.
"Odds are the husband snapped," I said.
Spouses were always prime suspects in situations like this.
JD and I hopped in the Porsche, and he fired up the engine. Jack pulled away from the curb, and we set out to find Grant Peterson.