Chapter 43
FORTY-THREE
Amanda startled awake in a cold sweat, heart racing. Her bedroom was mostly dark, but some sunlight inched around the edges of her curtains. In her nightmare, Nina had been standing over her with a blade. She had just been about to stab her when Amanda’s eyes shot open.
Notifying McGee had drained her. Things were at an impasse, and stepping back felt like it might lend a fresh perspective.
Amanda called her mother and confirmed she was able to keep Zoe for the day.
They were going to play mini golf and eat ice cream.
Amanda wished she could join them. But in two hours, she’d be in Manassas, where Rideout would be cutting into Abigail McGee.
She could only hope he’d find something that brought them closer to Valerie and Brooke.
When she’d been on with her mother, she’d asked to speak to Zoe, but she’d refused.
Amanda would have loved to run to her daughter, but she was committed to seeing the investigation through.
And Steeles always kept their word. Hopefully, one day Zoe would come to appreciate the integrity and importance of that.
In the short term, if Amanda solved this case, she might win Zoe’s love back.
Amanda was happy to leave the house because it felt empty without Zoe. Her first stop was Hannah’s Diner, and she sighed with relief upon seeing the parking lot wasn’t overflowing with vehicles. Though it was Sunday and only 7:45 AM.
As she waited for her coffee order, she fired off a quick text to Briggs. His shift ended at 7 AM, but she still expected he’d answer her.
Did you find anything on Hernandez’s camera footage?
She watched the screen, anticipating a response, but none came.
Even when she pulled into Central twenty minutes later, there was no message from him. It wasn’t like Briggs not to reply.
She called the uniformed sergeant on duty, balancing a takeout tray with two coffees in one hand, her phone in the other, as she walked toward her cubicle.
“Sergeant Gordon,” the man answered.
“Detective Steele. I’m just checking in to see how things went last night with executing a warrant on Lucas Hernandez.
” Officers would have been sent to accompany Briggs to serve it on Hernandez.
It was expected the footage from the rural property could be accessed through a computer in the kingpin’s residence.
She didn’t want to give much thought to the possibility he’d erased the video.
Though he was just cocky enough to think he could explain himself away if he had it.
Barring that, he may have thought he could bribe someone to look the other way.
As she waited on the sergeant to reply, she became chilled.
What might have been a few seconds stretched out like an eternity.
“Smoothly,” Gordon said.
“So he cooperated?”
“Seems like.”
“Thanks.” She ended the call. There must be some reason for the cooperation, and Amanda didn’t trust it. It didn’t help that Briggs still hadn’t reached out to her.
“Good morning. You hear anything?” Trent whisked into his cubicle, speaking to her over the partition.
“Briggs is silent. I texted, but nothing.”
Trent’s brow tightened. “Everything all right?”
She nodded. “I confirmed the execution of the warrant went fine, but otherwise…”
“Huh. Well, I’m sure he’ll be in touch soon.”
“Hope so. You ready to head out?”
“You bet.”
She stood and handed him a Hannah’s coffee.
“I’m getting spoiled. But thanks.”
She smiled at him. “Don’t mention it.” The truth was she’d do so much more for Trent.
They got on the road for Manassas and were there with time to spare. They found Rideout pacing around a metal slab with Abigail McGee’s body on it. He was talking into a digital recorder. He stopped and looked up when he must have heard them come in.
“Guess none of us have anything better to do on a Sunday morning.” Rideout smiled at them. The expression stood in stark contrast to his sarcasm.
“There are lots of better things, but if you can give us something that gets us to the Archers, then our sacrifice will have been worth it.” She approached the table, glancing down at Abigail’s remains.
Rideout had cleaned her up, but her body had been masticated by wildlife just like Paul Archer’s body.
Not as much, but it was still a grotesque sight.
Amanda considered herself to have a strong constitution, but the coffee soured in her gut.
“Well, I haven’t gotten a lot so far, but I’ll bring you up to speed. Cause of death is that hole you’re looking at right there. Instant kill shot, lights out.” Rideout pointed at the entry wound in Abigail’s forehead.
“Liam wasn’t sure if it was a nine mil or something larger,” Amanda said.
“Since I could recover bullet fragments, I can confirm it was a forty-five caliber.”
“That’s something anyway,” Trent put in.
Rideout continued. “Time of death was Thursday late morning to early afternoon. I recovered what was left of the round and forwarded it for ballistics testing. Those in the lab might be able to tell us make of gun.”
“We can hope.” There were databases, but they could only help so much. When it came down to solving a murder, the ideal solution was to have one’s hands on the actual murder weapon. Then comparisons could be run with fine-point accuracy.
“I can also tell you based on lividity and other factors she was shot where she was found.”
Shot like a sick dog in the back field… “Liam messaged that her tongue was cut out when she was alive.”
“Uh-huh. I’d say definitively.”
Nina… She shivered as her nightmare resurfaced. “Do you think that happened where she was shot?”
“I can’t say for certain, but I heard there was a room in the basement of the house with lots of blood. That’s probably where it took place.”
If so, had Abigail been held with the Archers for a length of time? Had Valerie and Brooke witnessed Abigail’s tongue being cut out? Had they also watched, powerless, as they dragged her away? “Do you think the knife or blade that stabbed Paul Archer could have been used to remove her tongue?”
“It’s possible, yes. That’s all I have for now. You might want to step back.”
They did so and hung around for a while until Rideout was out of fresh discoveries. He promised to keep them posted if he found anything after they left.
Back in the car, Amanda googled what guns fire a 45-caliber round. It turned out several manufacturers made at least one model. Glock, Sig Sauer, Smith & Wesson, Heckler & Koch, to name a few. “Trent, bring up gun registrations attached to Hernandez.”
“You don’t think he used a legal firearm?”
“Please, just look.”
He worked on the onboard computer. Soon after, he was listing three guns Hernandez had registered under his name.
“None of them fire forty-five caliber,” she said.
He looked over at her. “You didn’t expect you’d tie it to him that easily, did you? The guy makes his living on drugs and weapons.”
“We’re due for a break.”
“Not going to argue that, but sadly, we’re not that lucky. But I have no doubt Hernandez fired on Abigail himself. It was personal for him. He was the one she overheard. He had to teach her the lesson.”
“Agreed.” An epiphany was starting to edge in, just as her phone rang. “It’s Briggs,” she told Trent and answered on speaker. “Hello, is everything all right?”
“It’s fine. I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner, but I’ve been working on the digital footage we recovered from Hernandez.”
“What did you find?” she asked.
“There were ghosts of several deleted files, and I’ve been working to resurrect them.”
Tell me our luck is turning around… “So you have something?”
“Nothing yet. I’m still working on it. If I get something, I’ll call, not text.”
“Okay.”
“You bet.” With that, Briggs ended the call.
“The guy sounds exhausted,” Trent said.
“I think everyone would be with the hours he’s pulling to get this done.”
“So what now?”
A reasonable question, but one she didn’t have an answer for. “Let’s head back to Central and review everything we have. You never know, something might flag with another look.”