Chapter 16
Simone was sitting at her desk when I entered the office, her laptop open and a stack of files pushed to one side.
She was dressed in black jeans, a faded Nirvana T-shirt, and a tailored black jacket.
Hunter stood near the window, flipping through a folder.
Her red hair fell in loose braids over her shoulders, her bangs brushing across her freckled face.
She wore her usual overalls, one strap undone, paired with a long-sleeve shirt beneath.
“Afternoon,” Simone said, rubbing her hands together. “Sounds like we got ourselves another juicy case.”
I set my handbag down and took a seat, pulling out my notebook. “We do, and I’m here to get you both up to speed.”
I walked them through everything I knew so far, starting from the moment Mia hired me.
We talked about the police shifting away from the robbery angle and treating Wren’s death as a homicide investigation.
From there, we went over Clive Simmons and the dartboard, Cooper visiting Wren the night she died, and Silas’s findings, including the blood droplets and the blood and skin cells beneath Coco’s nailbed.
I also told them about the missing spare house key, the break-in the night before, my latest theory about the killer targeting the wrong sister, and Mia’s short list of suspects.
When I finished, Hunter took a seat next to me and crossed her arms, staring out the window like she was assembling the pieces in her mind.
“Okay,” Simone said. “What you just said, it’s a lot.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Hunter added.
“Do you have any questions?” I asked.
Hunter raised a finger. “I want to talk to Wren’s husband, Cooper. Even if we’re going to pursue the theory that the killer is after Mia, what’s with Cooper forgetting to mention he was the last person to see his wife alive?”
“I know, it’s suspicious,” I said. “But for right now, I still think we should focus on our new list of suspects.”
“Let’s go over each one of them,” Simone said.
“We’ll start with Karl Holland,” I said. “He works for the same hotel chain as Mia. She was hired as their director of analytics, a job he thought was supposed to go to him.”
“Corporate resentment,” Hunter said. “Classic.”
“When he found out she got the job, he caused a scene at the office,” I said. “He insisted Mia didn’t deserve the position.”
Simone winced. “That’s not good.”
“It gets better,” I said. “He’s still with the company, but they transferred him to another office.”
“And for all we know, he’s still holding a grudge,” Simone said.
“Let’s move on to the second suspect,” I said. “His name is Christian Shepherd, and he’s Mia’s ex-boyfriend. Based on how she described him, he was clingy, overbearing, and possessive. He didn’t take the breakup well.”
“Care to elaborate?” Simone asked.
“He started showing up everywhere, at her gym, at her work, and even outside her house on occasion.”
Hunter let out a low breath. “Sounds like a guy with an obsession.”
“Mia took out a restraining order.”
“Which doesn’t always stop a person who doesn’t want to be stopped,” Hunter said. “Who’s the third suspect?”
“Renee Parker. She’s Mia’s cousin. She disputed their grandfather’s will after he died.”
“What was at stake?” Simone asked.
“A beachfront house in Santa Monica.”
Simone raised a brow. “That will do it.”
“Renee claimed their grandfather intended for the house to go to her, not Wren and Mia, and she even produced a letter saying so, but that turned out to be forged. After the judge ruled against her, she tried apologizing to Wren and Mia for contesting the will in the first place.”
“Hmm, seems like there might be a lot more to the story than what you’ve been told,” Hunter said.
“I agree.”
Simone drummed her fingers along the top of the desk. “Based on instinct, if I had to pick one of these three people as our prime suspect, my money’s on the ex-boyfriend.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because obsession can lead people down a dark path,” she said.
Hunter shook her head. “I don’t know. The coworker feels volatile to me with his public humiliation, career setback, and proximity. It’s a dangerous mix.”
“And the cousin?” I asked.
Hunter shrugged. “Money’s always a good motive, and it’s an even better one when someone thinks something was taken from them. Where would you like us to start?”
“Hunter, I want you to research all three suspects,” I said. “I’d like background information, timelines of where they’ve been, what they’ve been doing, and anything that connects them to Mia in the last couple of months.”
Hunter grinned, her expression brightening with excitement. “You had me at research.”
“Good.” I turned to Simone. “I want you to talk to Mia’s neighbors and see if anyone saw anything the night Wren was killed or last night during the break-in.
I also want you to track down Vera Quinn of Sweep Dreams. Vera is Mia’s housekeeper, and she has a key to her house.
I’m interested to know if she has anything useful to say. ”
Simone nodded. “Will do.”
Hunter narrowed her eyes, looking over my shoulder at the notes I’d taken. “Looks like you missed someone on your list. Who’s Simon Sullivan?”
“He’s a man Mia met at a conference,” I said. “They hit it off and planned to see each other after it was over.”
“And then Wren was murdered,” Hunter said.
“Right.”
“And you don’t think he’s worth looking into?”
“Not yet. Let’s focus on the three suspects Mia gave me first, and we can expand from there.”
I stood, grabbing my handbag.
“Where are you headed?” Simone asked.
“I’m going to start with Karl Holland,” I said. “If he works a nine-to-five, he’ll be getting off work soon.”
“I can tag along, if you’d like,” Simone said.
“Thanks, but I’ll be all right talking to him on my own.”
Simone shot me a wink. “You almost always are.”
“Hunter, will you see if you can find any profiles Karl has on social media, so I know what he looks like?” I asked.
She nodded. “On it.”
I stepped out of the office and into the late-afternoon sun, my thoughts drifting to Karl, a man convinced he’d been robbed of an opportunity he thought he deserved.
A few minutes later, Hunter sent a few photos to my phone. Karl looked like an awkward introvert, not a killer. But looks could be deceiving.
I drove to his office, pulling into the parking lot just as the first wave of employees began filing out of the building.
I spotted Karl sitting on a bench outside the office, eating a piece of cake over a napkin.
I stepped out of the car and walked toward him.
The moment our eyes met, his expression changed.
He froze with the fork halfway to his mouth, and a flicker of unease crossed his face.
It was the look of a man who knew I hadn’t come there by accident.