“I’m ready to talk now.”
He scrambled through his papers for a pen. “You name the time and place.”
“There’s a house I know. In an hour.”
Donovan scribbled the address on the edge of the morning newspaper. “I’ll be there.”
He hung up the phone and let out a whoop.
Since he’d read the article, Garrison had been thinking about Eva all morning. He’d called the pub but the line was always busy. That son of a bitch Donovan had opened the door for every nut-job and copycat to come after Eva. He feared this kind of media glare would send her running to the next town.
His phone buzzed and he snapped it up. “Garrison.”
“There’s a Ms. Rayburn down here to see you,” the officer at the front desk said.
“I’ll be right down.”
He pulled on his jacket and hurried down the stairs to find her standing in the lobby, clutching her backpack. Her back was rigid with tension. “Ms. Rayburn.”
“Detective Garrison.” She moved toward him in quick efficient strides.
“How are you holding up after Donovan’s article?”
“We closed at one today. A television news reporter made the day miserable.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’ll survive. But I’m worried about Bobby and King. They shouldn’t have been dragged into my mess.”
This would all blow over eventually, but the interim could be miserable and destructive. “I’ve not been able to remember anything about the other man in the sketch. But I want to help you find this guy.”
“Come up to my office. I want to show you something.”
“Sure.”
He opened the door for her and followed her up the stairs to his office. “Another woman was murdered six weeks ago. She wasn’t branded but her wounds make me think she’s connected to the other killings.” He reached in the file and pulled out a picture. “This is her DMV photo.”
“Okay.” She slid slender fingers into her pockets.
He laid the picture on his desk.
Eva studied the image for a little more than a second before she said, “Eliza Martinez.”
Unexpected excitement rushed through him. “You know her?”
“She cleaned the sorority house.” She picked up the picture. “Her hair is grayer, but she looks almost exactly the same. How did she die?”
“She was stabbed. Four times.”
“The number four again.” She traced Eliza’s face with her fingertip. “Why would anyone want to kill her?”
“I’m hoping you can tell me.”
“She was a nice lady. She even taught me her empanada recipe.”
“Where was she the day Josiah died?”
“She’d been at the house cleaning all day. There was a lot to do since most of the girls had moved out for the summer. I remember she left early because her daughter was ill.”
“No one made threats? No run-ins with Josiah?”
“I never saw anything. But I wasn’t always in the house. I do remember her daughter had a little crush on Josiah at the beginning of the school year.” Memories flickered on the edge of her mind. “Josiah liked Eliza. He called her his little mother.”
“Little mother.”
“Said she reminded him of his mother.”
Garrison rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Micah Cross said their mother died when they were about thirteen.”
“That would be about right. I saw her gravestone a few days ago.”
“You went to her grave?”
She shrugged. “I wanted to see Josiah’s grave. Both his parents’ graves were beside it. I don’t know anything about her.”
Tension tightened around his spine—a sign he was missing something. But nothing flickered. “You shouldn’t go back to the pub for the next few days. It’s not safe. Is there anywhere else you can stay?”
“No.”
“What about Angie’s house?”
“I don’t know.”
“She’s your sister.”
“Yeah.”
“Call her, Eva. She wasn’t mentioned in the article, and staying with her will be safest for you, King and Bobby.”
Detective Deacon Garrison’s presence consumed the front seat as he drove Eva to her sister’s. Energy radiated from him. However, instead of intimidating Eva, his closeness left her a little breathless. She realized she liked having him close.
She smoothed her hands over her worn jeans. “Thanks for doing this, Detective.”
“It’s no problem. And you can call me Deacon, if you want.”
“Okay.” A hint of a smile tugged at her lips. “And stop with the Ms. Rayburn stuff. Eva will do.”
“Right.” He maneuvered the car easily in and out of traffic. “Angie said she’d meet us at her house.”
“Yes. She was really sweet about it.” The concern in her sister’s voice still humbled her. “She’s got to get back to court, but said I could stay as long as I wanted.”
“Good.”
He drove down the tree-lined street and within minutes they spotted the one-level brick house. The lawn was well manicured, but no flowers filled the beds and the table under the big oak tree was blanketed with leaves. When Garrison pulled into the gravel drive, Angie came out the front door. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun and she wore a dark business suit.
As Eva got out of the car, Angie smiled and crossed the lawn toward her. She hugged Eva. “I’m so glad you called.”
Eva studied her sister’s face. “Are you sure? If this doesn’t work …”
Angie squeezed Eva’s shoulder. “Don’t say it. I want to help.”
Tears tightened Eva’s throat. “Thanks.”
“I wish I could give you the grand tour, but I’ve got to be in court in a half hour. The second bedroom on the right is yours and the refrigerator has got the basics.”
Garrison moved behind Eva. “Thank you. ”
Angie glanced up at him, no hint of the defense attorney in her gaze. “Thank you for making her call me. I’ll be back late.” She kissed Eva on the cheek and headed toward her BMW parked in the street.
Garrison lingered and Eva was glad for it. “Want me to stick around a few minutes?”
She released a sigh. “That would be great. This is all a little weird for me.”
“I’ll make you coffee, provided your sister has it.”
She nodded and they moved inside the house. Only one area rug warmed the hardwood floor in the living room but it anchored the sofa, coffee table and two end chairs. Above the simple hearth hung a gilded mirror that caught the light from French doors that overlooked the backyard.
“Simple, tasteful and very Angie,” Eva said. “Her father’s family always seemed a cut above.”
“You’re half sisters.”
“Yes. Angie lived with her dad most of the time. She visited Mom and me occasionally. When Mom died, I went to foster care. Angie was in college on the West Coast.”
“Angie’s father didn’t consider taking you?”
“No. I’m not sure of the details, but I think my mom left him for my dad. I look like my dad so I guess having me around was a bad reminder.” She set her backpack beside the sofa and moved into the kitchen. Angie had left the lights on. The granite countertop was polished to sparkling and cluttered with only a microwave and a coffeemaker.
Eva opened a cabinet door and found coffee and filters. “Looks like we’re in business.”
Garrison shrugged off his jacket and draped it over a chrome chair, which was part of the dinette set. “Coffee is a specialty of mine.”
“Great.” She moved to the refrigerator. “She’s got cold cuts. Want a sandwich?”
“Sounds good.”
They both worked silently at their tasks and soon sat at the dinette set. For a moment neither spoke but ate, understanding that opportunities to fuel up shouldn’t be bypassed.
“You were right about Lisa’s book. It was a
simple code and we broke it easily.” He carefully and deliberately set down his sandwich half. “She says that she met Darius Cross last year.”
“Really?”
“She said they were lovers.”
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
“He didn’t recognize her at first. When he did he felt duped and got angry. She told him about The Secret.”
“You mean Kristen’s baby?”
“I don’t think so. I’m willing to bet if he knew about the baby, he’d have moved heaven and earth to find it.”
“He put a great deal of stock in blood relations. Blood is thicker than water. Josiah said that several times.” She picked at the crust. “So if not the baby, what secret?”
“I don’t know.” He shoved out a breath. “I also had a fire investigator look at the photos of the sorority house. She doesn’t think the fire started by the hearth but by the back door.”