The Watched (CSI Reilly Steel #4) (6 page)

‘
Anything new?’ he asked as he made the necessary adjustments to his equipment.

‘
Reed said that the truck had been reported stolen from the Westfield Mall parking lot this morning,’ Bradley said, referring to the detective.

‘
And they’re sure the owner’s not in on this?’ Todd cut in. ‘Could be lying just to throw us off.’

‘Todd.’
Bradley’s tone made Todd look up. ‘The guys know how to do their job.’ He gave a half-smile. ‘Besides, the owner is a 72-year-old half-deaf widow named Beatrice Cowen who reportedly fell asleep twice while Reed and Sampson were interviewing her.’

Todd reluctantl
y conceded that the detectives had called it right and returned to his examination of the keys. ‘The widow happen to mention what the other key is for?’

‘
Her house,’ Bradley said as he walked over to the center table where they’d put the remainder of the unprocessed evidence.

‘Well, n
o prints or partials on either the duct tape or the keys,’ Todd announced dully. ‘The perp was either wearing gloves or wiped everything down.’

‘
My guess is the wipe down, at least for everything he would’ve needed at the abduction site.’ Bradley picked up a soil sample. ‘A guy with a beach towel may not be out of place on a beach, but a guy with gloves definitely would be.’ He looked at the vial in his hand. ‘Emilie,’ he called out to the other side of the lab. ‘Dr Kase gave you the samples from the bodies earlier?’

‘Yes
,’ the younger lab tech replied.

‘Can you compare the sand found on the bodies to the sand in this vial?’ Bradley asked. ‘See if it’s from the same place.’

Todd found it funny that his superior still asked
for things. Bradley had been the senior investigator for six years and still talked to the other team members as if they were all equal. At first, Todd had assumed the habit would fade, especially once people started taking advantage of Bradley’s good nature. To his surprise, it hadn’t happened and he continued to run the team with a quiet, polite authority that made coming to work, while not enjoyable due to the nature of the work itself, far less stressful.

‘Of course.’
Emilie took the vial.

‘
And thank you for agreeing to stay late to work through some of the evidence,’ Bradley said as Emilie walked away.

Then she
turned, her expression suddenly somber, the expression seeming out of place on her typically cheery face. ‘Of course,’ she repeated – her catchphrase of choice, Todd noted. ‘We need to find the psycho who did this, and soon.’

‘Dramatic much?’
Bradley smiled at the tiny redhead as she returned to her work area.

‘Problem is, I think she could be
right,’ Todd replied, looking thoughtful. ‘Unless we find out that Hol – the victim – had some jilted lover or other enemy, something this fucked up
is
looking like the work of some psychopath.’

‘Well,
we should try not to make any assumptions for the moment,’ Bradley warned as the doors to the lab opened and one of the interns entered with another evidence box. ‘You know what they say about making assumptions.’

CHAPTER 5

As Reilly
stood with Daniel on the doorstep of a little white Cape Cod-style house in downtown Clearwater, she was starting to regret her decision to tag along.

Not that she didn’t want to
support him with the unenviable task he had ahead; it was just that one of the reasons she’d chosen to go into forensics rather than profiling was because of the lack of interaction with the victims’ families, and confrontation of the damage evil left behind. Daniel had always claimed that she’d had a knack for people, and maybe she did, but it didn’t automatically make her want to be around them more. Give her things to test and measure and examine. Leave the feelings and emotions to everyone else.

Which made her think of something.

‘Tell you what,’ she said to him on the drive across the gorgeously scenic intercoastal waterway bridge, which connected the smaller Clearwater Beach area to downtown Clearwater via a wide waterway teeming with wildlife. As they crossed, pelicans, egrets and seagulls flew all around them, occasionally diving in and out of the water below. ‘Why don’t I take a look around while you talk to the mother? See if anything stands out.’ According to Daniel, the murdered girl had still been living at her mother’s house.

Daniel’s wry expression betrayed that he’d expected or anticipated this, before Reilly had even thought to suggest it. ‘Exactly the reason I let you come along. I got Todd to hold off for the same reason. We need to get a handle on this before the locals come in and mess it up.’

She frowned. ‘You don’t trust your own son?’

‘Of course I do – just not some of the idiots working with him.’ But Reilly figured this was less of a reflection of the Tampa PD and more an indication of Daniel’s control freak tendencies. She should have guessed that when it came to something this personal, he’d want to get his own angle on it.

‘I’m sure the investigative team will do everything they can to—’

‘I’m on retainer with the department, Reilly; I know these guys all too well. The detectives are competent, yes, but completely overworked and won’t be able to give this their full attention even if they want to.’ He pulled up outside a small but well-tended home which Reilly assumed belonged to Holly’s mother.

‘Daniel . . .’ The woman who answered the door was taller than Reilly’s own five-foot-five, but just barely. Mrs Young had big blue eyes that took in the expression on Daniel’s face, and instantly revealed that this wasn’t the first time she had opened her door to bad news. ‘Come in.’ Her voice was barely above a whisper and she seemed to shrink back into herself as she led them toward the living room.

The house was tidy
and old-fashioned. The same pale blue wallpaper that had lined the hallway continued into the living room, accented by darker curtains. The furniture was old but well cared for. The walls were decorated with pictures, nearly all of a pretty blond girl at various ages. Reilly didn’t need a psychological background to tell her that this woman doted on her beloved daughter Holly.

‘
Would you like something to drink?’ Mrs Young asked, after Daniel had made introductions, referring to Reilly as his ‘associate’. If the woman was wondering about Reilly’s floral-patterned sundress and flip-flops as her choice of professional attire, she didn’t show it, but Reilly cursed herself for not changing into something a little more formal beforehand.

Mrs Young’s hands fluttered
anxiously and she almost seemed to be stalling, as if she could somehow change whatever the news was by delaying it.

Daniel
shook his head as he settled on the couch. Reilly sat next to him, unease churning in her stomach. She didn’t know this woman. She didn’t belong here. This wasn’t a place for strangers. But she kept her mouth shut and controlled the urge to bolt. This wasn’t about her. This was about helping Daniel find out if there was anything in the house that might provide some answers as to why Holly Young had been murdered.

‘Alice . . .’
Daniel hesitated, searching for the words.

Mrs
Young seemed to make a decision. ‘Just tell me,’ she said, visibly bracing herself.

‘
The police found Holly’s body a few hours ago.’ He said it as gently as possible, but Reilly knew there was no way to soften this sort of blow.

‘Oh my God . . . how?’
She seemed to collapse in upon herself and crossed her arms over her chest, as if literally trying to hold herself together. ‘What happened?’

‘I’m so sorry, Alice.’
Daniel reached out and put a hand on the woman’s knee. ‘I don’t know the full details yet, but it seems that she was murdered.’

‘Oh, dear God.’ T
he words seemed to break down the last of the woman’s defenses and she crumpled.

Daniel
moved from his seat to gather the sobbing woman into his arms. He looked over her head at Reilly and motioned toward the hallway. She immediately understood and hurried out, eager to be away from the rawness of a mother’s anguish. She glanced in the first two doorways and found a bathroom and the mother’s room. The last door on the left had obviously belonged to the victim.

Reilly
took a deep breath and then stepped inside, pushing away her misgivings about getting involved in something that was really none of her business. She would do this. For Daniel, and for the grieving mother in his arms, she would do this.

Going straight into work mode, she began to
look at it like just another job. First things first – most people are killed by someone they know. Careful not to touch anything she didn’t need to, Reilly began her perusal.

She’d seen the bulletin board of pictures across from the door when she’d first entered, but she ignored them for now. If she immediately went there, she might miss something important. Instead, she went to the right and slowly walked the perimeter of the room, taking in everything.

Holly’s room was small, neat but not obsessively so. Her dresser was cluttered with what one would expect from a young woman in her mid-twenties. Some make-up, jewelry, a few odds and ends.

The closet floor was a bit more cluttered, about a dozen shoes scattered about haphazardly. The clothes hanging up were fashionable but not expensive. The bed was rumpled, the sheet and blanket tossed back over it but not tucked in. Her pillow was crooked; the smiley face on the pillow case appeared to be watching the rose-printed wallpaper. A pair of cute pale green pajamas lay in a ball at the foot of the bed.

Reilly turned to face the bulletin board she’d first noticed. It was less than a foot square and covered with thumbtacked pictures. She paused, noting the positioning of each one. She didn’t need Daniel to remind her that the pictures of most importance were typically placed on the top, overlapping others.

There were three pictures that
Reilly figured were the girl’s favorites. One was of a pre-teen Holly with her mother and a blond man who Reilly assumed was her father. The second was of Holly, her mother and Daniel at Holly’s high school graduation, which she found curious. Where was the father on such a big occasion?

The one in the center – and the most important, Reilly guessed –
was of Holly with a smiling blond guy who looked to be about the same age. Their arms were around each other’s waists, body language implying they were more than just friends.

As she headed back into the living room,
Reilly made a mental list of the items the investigators would want to ask for: the picture of the mystery guy, any new jewelry, and the dress purse that Reilly had seen hanging in the closet.

The
CSI team would need to more thoroughly search the room for other evidence of Holly’s boyfriend, birth control, a journal, anything like that. With so little information to go on, they needed to start with the basics. Unfortunately, that meant looking into those closest to Holly first.

Reilly
paused at the end of the hallway and peeked around the corner. Daniel had returned to his seat on the couch and caught her eye, indicating that she should come back in. As she walked over to the couch, Reilly cast a surreptitious glance in Mrs Young’s direction. The woman’s eyes were red, an occasional tear making its way down her cheek, but she seemed relatively composed. Reilly settled back onto the couch and gave Daniel a nod.

‘
Alice,’ Daniel said, his voice gentler than Reilly had ever heard it. ‘The police are going to be here a little later to ask you some questions to try to figure out who did this. But, if you’re up for it, I’d like to ask you a few things now. Reilly took a look around and may have noticed a couple of things.’

‘
She’s a cop too?’ Mrs Young sniffled as she glanced toward Reilly, this time giving a dubious glance at the sundress. She reached for another tissue.

‘Reilly
’s a former student of mine from Quantico. She’s a crime scene investigator now. The best in her field,’ Daniel said. ‘And she’s going to help us.’

Mrs
Young nodded. ‘All right then, go ahead and ask.’

‘Thank you.’
Daniel’s tone took on a more professional note. ‘When was the last time you saw Holly?’

‘This morning.’ Mrs
Young took a shuddering breath. ‘She was going to an audition and then spending the afternoon at the beach.’

‘An audition? What kind?’

‘For a movie, I think. She wants to be an actress.’ She looked at Daniel. ‘You know how much she loves . . . performing.’ The woman’s voice broke as she realized she’d been speaking about her daughter in the present tense.

‘
Did she mention anyone specific she was going with?’ Daniel shot Reilly a sideways look and she gave a minute nod. ‘Maybe a boyfriend?’

‘Um . . .’ Mrs
Young closed her eyes for a moment. ‘She’d been seeing a boy from the community theater. They’d go to auditions together sometimes, I think.’

‘
His name?’ Daniel pressed.