Dead Don't Lie (4 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

R
YAN
’
S
LINE
OF
questioning was spot-on. Evelyn couldn’t fault him for that. She would’ve been asking the same thing if the roles were reversed. But they weren’t. She gritted her teeth, irritation ripping through her. For being caught off-guard, for allowing the emotions to seep back in where they didn’t belong, for being vulnerable.

“Yes.” She forced the word past compressed lips.

He nodded, the movement brisk. “Okay, then.”

“Okay, then.”

They pulled into the snaking driveway. Ryan whistled. The majestic colonial rose from the evergreen carpet that blanketed the ground. Perfect landscaping drew their gazes to the grand structure of the main house. Evelyn couldn’t help but imagine the family enjoying a rare, million-dollar summer evening, watching the sun dance with the edge of the lake. She shuddered. They’d never do that again.

Figures rushed back and forth, their dark silhouettes a stark contrast to the bright lights shining through the windows. A vibrant red door, etched glass panels on either side, stood slightly ajar.

Evelyn knew what awaited them. Her stomach dropped.

“You know, Kate and I toyed with the idea of moving to Mercer.” Ryan’s voice interrupted her thoughts. He put the car into Park and sighed. “Now...it’s lost its charm.”

Evelyn ignored him and got out of the car. “Shall we get this over with?”

They signed the front door log, then stepped into the mammoth foyer. Two curving stairwells mirrored each other, ascending toward the second-floor landing. A rather large and, by the looks of everything around them, expensive crystal chandelier hung suspended over their heads. Two officers huddled by a black grand piano in hushed conversation.

Evelyn walked past them without a word and entered the family room. Careful not to interfere with the CSI unit or touch anything, her eyes took in every awful detail.

In front of the large marble fireplace lay two blonde girls in their pajamas. Bound and gagged. One with a bullet hole through her forehead, and the other with her throat slashed. Evelyn walked over and looked into their faces, sadness washing over her. Even in death, they appeared sweet...innocent.

She took in the scene at her feet. Something was off. What was it? She bent down again and leaned in. “What in the world?”

The younger child’s wrists were cinched tight behind her back, causing an involuntary arch in her body. She hadn’t had any way to defend herself as the knife ripped into her neck. Strangely, the older one’s hands had been bound in front. They huddled together. The younger one slumped into her sister’s chest, her head resting at an odd angle against her big sister’s shoulder. The older girl couldn’t have been more than fourteen.

Olivia’s age
.

Evelyn banished the thought and focused on the girls in front of her. In her mind’s eye, she could see the older sister scooting closer, reaching her arms around her dying sister and cradling her. Blood from the gaping slit in the little girl’s throat soaked the front of her sister’s yellow pajamas and formed a dark crimson puddle around them. Evelyn frowned. That blood looked darker than the splatter on the fireplace, almost as if the blood on her chest—her sister’s blood—had dried before she’d been shot.

Evelyn jerked back. Her stomach rolled. “Ry—”

She looked up and into the scowling face of her nemesis, Detective Josh Sanderson.
Shit
. She’d walked right by him on purpose and assessed the scene on her own with fresh eyes. Hadn’t that been Kessler’s direct order?

Wrong move.

She stood and tipped her head in recognition. “Sanderson.”

The short athletic man’s face twisted into a snarl. She swallowed a sigh.
Were they really going to go around this mountain again?
Once, in a drunken stupor, the narcissistic, arrogant man in front of her said that had they met at a local bar, and he didn’t know anything about Diaz’s golden girl, he’d have loved to see what was beneath the jeans and black North Face jacket that hugged her curves just right, positive that it would only be better than his wildest imagination.

She’d wanted to clock him. Ryan had done it instead.

“I’d say it was nice to see you, but it isn’t. This is my case. What are
you
doing here?” Sanderson asked in an icy tone.

She ignored his glare and locked eyes with him. Apparently being polite wasn’t in the cards tonight. Fine. She doubted he knew that they now led this investigation. If he did, he wouldn’t have been so pleasant—if she could call this pleasant.

“Chief Diaz sent us over. What have you got, Sanderson?” Evelyn asked.

Ryan walked up, crossed his arms. Evelyn bit back a smirk. Ryan would surely win any pissing match with Sanderson, and the other detective knew it.

Sanderson glanced between the two detectives and shoved back his cheap blue suit jacket, looping his thumbs through his belt as he jerked his head toward the elegant family room. “Family annihilator.”

“Shit,” Ryan muttered under his breath.

She normally dealt with Sanderson’s kind in a perfectly PC way, took all the egotistical bullshit in stride. And judging by the way Sanderson glared up at her now, she’d have to do it again—take his bullshit. She took a deep breath—no use egging him on any more than her sheer existence on planet Earth already did.

“And how did you come to that conclusion, Detective Sanderson?”

She’d meant it as a polite question, trying to be cordial. Sanderson’s face reddened. The vein in his neck bulged.

“Listen, Davis. It’s a theory.” Although anger had pushed color to his face, icicles dripped from his tongue. “Just because you have the chief wrapped around your little finger doesn’t mean you can come in here and make accusations.”

She seethed, but managed to ignore the underhanded, out-of-line remark—she’d deal with that later—and tilted her chin down to look into his shadowy eyes.

“Yes, actually, I
can
. I’m the senior officer here and we—” she pointed to Ryan and then herself “—have the lead on this case. Not to mention that this little ‘theory’ of yours, the one you so flippantly expressed, is one you
cannot
substantiate until further into the investigation. If ever.”

Sanderson took a menacing step toward her.

Evelyn’s pulse jumped angrily as she also took a step forward. Before she could respond, Ryan stepped between the two detectives and shoved an open hand onto Sanderson’s chest.

“How about you stop right there, Sanderson,” Ryan said in a gruff, don’t-mess-with-me-you-little-shithead
voice. “You can call the chief and confirm what Detective Davis just said.”

Sanderson tried to take another step toward Evelyn. Ryan’s face hardened. “Make the damn phone call.”

Sanderson shot a look past Ryan’s shoulder. “This isn’t over, Davis.”

Turning on his heel, he stormed into the kitchen, punching numbers into his phone as he went.

Ryan grabbed Evelyn’s wrist and towed her outside, where he released her.

“Okay, look, I know you were trying your best to be nice—” he rubbed his hands over his face “—but are you out of your mind?”

“Ryan—”

“Stop. Anything that puts Sanderson on edge weakens this team. You know that. I know that. So what the hell’s going on? Are you—”

“I’m fine.”

Evelyn wasn’t sure she could explain her actions. They were just as foreign to her as they were to Ryan. Her cool, steel-like outer shell, which had served her well the past fifteen years, had just cracked, ever so slightly. And that scared the hell out of her. At the sound of Sanderson uttering those two horrid little words, she’d wanted to rip off his face and weep at the same time. If he had pushed it much further, she didn’t know how she would have responded.

Ryan paced in front of her, hands clasped behind the back of his neck. He halted, stared at the floor, then glanced back at her. “No, Ev. You’re not.”

She went to argue, but snapped her mouth closed as he put up his hand.

“Maybe you’re too close for this one.”

“What? Why?” She felt her cheeks flush. “Because tragedy struck my family? Is that it?”

“Maybe.”

He’d said it so softly as he sagged against the porch railing, watching her, that she almost missed it.
Almost
.

Rebellious tears gathered in her eyes. She couldn’t believe he’d thrown her family’s murder into her face like that and questioned her ability to do her job. He knew the job meant everything to her, kept her sane. She’d never jeopardize her position. How could he not trust her to handle herself and put her work first? Her heart stumbled and her shoulders sagged. How could he think she wasn’t okay?

But was she really fine? She’d already harnessed the ghosts of her past—and their occupying emotions—twice. In less than two hours. She grimaced. Okay, so maybe he was right. Still...she wasn’t ready to give in to that emotional tailspin. Not now.

“Don’t use that against me, Ryan. I’m a damn good cop, and you know it.”

He jerked back as if she’d struck him. “Evelyn. I’m your partner. I’m looking out for you. That’s what partners do. I’m concerned.”

She glanced up at him, heat rushing to her cheeks again. She shouldn’t have pushed Sanderson so far. She hung her head. “You’re right.”

“Sanderson’s an asshole. But I’ve never seen you react like that. The chief put you on this case for a reason, and it wasn’t because of your pretty face. You know these types of cases better than anyone on the force, and your instincts are right on target.”

She walked toward the open door. She peered through the grand foyer at the room that held the family and shuddered, a chill racing down her spine. “Just because it looks like a family annihilator, Ry, doesn’t mean it is. If the media even gets a whiff of that theory, they’ll run with it.”

“I know,” Ryan said.

“There won’t be anything sacred left for this family. Everyone will believe this man, this father and husband, killed his family—even if we’ve proved otherwise.”

Her throat closed around unspoken emotion. She knew all too well what the media could do. Her father’s name and dignity had been shredded once the media sharks had sunk their teeth into the “family annihilator” tag. The grisly video Evelyn had received from the killer came too late to clear her father’s name in the eyes of the public. She’d had to flee Phoenix, its warmth, its sun, its beauty—the media had seen to that. She shook her head and vanquished the dark, haunting memories that rose from the depths of her soul.

She faced her partner and stuck her hands deep in her pockets. “The first look doesn’t always mean everything. The dead don’t lie. We just have to see what they’re trying to show us.”

“You’re right. They don’t. So whatever ghosts keep surfacing, push back. Lock them down.” He took two steps to stand beside her and studied the house. “We’ve got a job to do. That family needs us. They need
you
.”

She nodded. She wouldn’t allow the horrors of her past to hijack her present. She was stronger than that. She had endured more than most people had in a lifetime and made it out the other side. Ryan was right: whatever dark shadows clawed at her needed to be caged. Permanently.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the grand foyer. “Okay, gentlemen. Show’s over.”

The officers chuckled.

Evelyn moved back into the family room and knelt beside the sisters, once more swallowing the rage and grief that gripped her throat as she stared into the faces of two innocent lives taken far too soon. “Ry—come over here. This is what I wanted to show you earlier.”

Ryan hurried over and squatted next to her. “Talk to me.”

“Notice anything different between these bloodstains?” She pointed to one area, then the next.

Ryan studied the blood splattered from the gunshot wound and that from the knife. He turned, horror in his eyes.

“Holy shit.” He sat back on his heels and motioned to the oldest. “Her sister bled out in her arms, and then she was shot.”

Evelyn nodded. Her heart twisted.
What type of monster are we dealing with?

“I’m going to grab the coroner to get the time of death for both girls.” Ryan rose and walked out of the room.

The older girl’s face was frozen in panic and anguish. Evelyn knew that helpless feeling. Her sadness morphed into a fierce rage that simmered beneath her skin. No one should have to die like that.

She stood, pulled out a thin notebook and pen and scribbled a few notes. Snapping the book closed, she shoved it into her pocket and went over to the woman, their mother. Broken and riddled with a dozen or more knife wounds, she lay at her husband’s feet. Defensive bruising covered both arms and blood congealed above her split lip. She’d put up one hell of a fight. Evelyn knelt beside the body. “Good for you, ma’am.”

From her crouched position, she checked the man sitting in the recliner. From this angle, he looked to be asleep. She moved an inch to the left and saw the back of his head splattered against the artwork just behind him. She straightened. This wasn’t a family annihilator case. She knew it. But still...she needed to conduct a thorough examination of every inch of this family’s life.

“Fin?”

The officer to her right jumped. His young face lit up as his eyebrows scrunched together.

“I need you to verify if either parent had a lover on the side. Pull their phone records and check for large cash deposits or withdrawals. If either one of them had a secret life that would provoke all this—” she gestured around her “—I want to know about it.”

The officer nodded as he scribbled down notes.

If they were going to see this case for what it truly was, Evelyn needed to investigate all possible triggers. It was a long shot, but she knew finding out that a spouse had a lover was such a spark, and she wanted to rule it out. Hopefully, once they were done, they’d clear the man staring up at her with lifeless eyes.

Then they could focus on catching the sick, twisted bastard who had done this.

Sanderson rejoined them, face flushed. Evelyn could only imagine the tongue-lashing the chief had given him. Would he ever learn it wasn’t a pissing match?