“We already have them from your employer.” Jenna lifted her chin. “Did you speak to her?”
“I did.” Anderson stared into space for a few moments as if thinking. “She asked me why I had installed a floodlight right outside her bedroom window.”
“And why did you?” Jenna pulled out her notebook and jotted down some notes. “Wouldn’t that disturb her at night if the sensor lights came on and shone into her room?”
“I guess, but it was on the design approved by Mr. Rosen.” Anderson shrugged. “They’re outside all the bedroom windows. Lindy’s bedroom has a rose trellis. Ma
ybe her father figured someone might climb up it to break into the house.”
After Kane had examined Lindy’s bedroom, he’d noted the alarms fitted to her bedroom windows. It would have been near impossible for anyone to break into the house without tripping one of the alarms or the CCTV cameras. “So, you don’t believe anyone broke into the house and kidnapped her?”
“If the system was activated, not a chance.” Anderson shuffled his feet. “I checked it out and everything is working fine. I had the ME watching me as well, and asking questions. Maybe you should speak with him.”
“So in your professional opinion, the system was either not activated or Lindy switched it off and walked out the door?” Jenna made more notes, and then lifted her gaze. “Run me through what happens if someone walks onto their property and trips the alarm.”
“The motion sensors would activate the cameras and the floodlights simultaneously; a silent alarm sounds in the family room and the parents’ bedroom. It’s a flashing light.” Anderson cleared his throat. “The alarm is raised at head office. Technicians there view the footage and take the appropriate action. First, they call the owner in case they’ve accidentally tripped the alarm. If not, and we see someone sneaking around or attempting to break in, we call 911.”
“Where were you on Sunday night through Monday morning?” Jenna glanced at her notes. “Between the hours of midnight and seven?”
“At work. I do the graveyard shift on Sunday and Wednesday nights, twelve till six, and then I’m on call for any emergencies from around midday, sometimes earlier. But most Mondays and Thursdays, they give the work to the other guys. It’s a fair trade; none of them want to work every night.”
“Okay, one more question and we’ll be on our way.” Jenna closed her notebook and slid it and her pen inside her jacket pocket. “Did Lindy attend your art classes?”
“Yeah, for a couple of weeks.” Anderson frowned. “It’s a community class and anyone can attend as long as I have room. I get the usual crowd, and then a few different people drift in and out.”
“Did you notice if she was friendly toward anyone in particular?” Jenna exchanged a look with Kane.
Kane narrowed his gaze. “What the sheriff means is, did she have any guys hanging around her, anyone who may have lured her from the house?”
“I have my hands full during the class; I don’t take any notice of what they’re doing outside their artwork.” Anderson walked to the front door. “If that’s all, it’s been a long day and I’m still in my coveralls.”
Kane waited to see if Jenna had any more questions, then followed her out the door. “Thank you for your time.”
He caught up with her. “I’m not too sure about him, two things bother me. He asked about suspects before we released cause of death, and he made a comment about our injuries as well. Most strangers don’t ask personal questions when dealing with law enforcement. He seemed way too friendly to me. What do you think?”
“It seems to me everyone we’ve spoken to is a possible suspect but all we have is circumstantial evidence – not one of them has a motive.” She climbed into the truck.
Kane slid behind the wheel and started the engine. “Only if you’re looking at this murder as a crime of passion, but psychopaths don’t need a motive to kill. They may have a trigger that sets them off on a killing spree but I get the feeling this kill was well planned.” He headed back to town. “I don’t believe for one minute Lindy just walked out the house and happened to bump into a killer.”
“So we’re looking at this from the wrong angle?” Jenna turned in her seat and looked at him. “Lindy knew her killer and went with him willingly.” She snorted in disgust. “We’ve dealt with enough pedophiles to know how they groom kids. I figure one of the men on our list lured her from the house and used her as a pawn in his deadly game of chess with us.”
Kane nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it was checkmate on the last game but he hasn’t finished playing yet. I figure he’s just resetting the board.”
Twenty-Two
Wednesday
Amanda Braxton lay in bed looking at the full moon spreading its light across her bedroom. She had wonderful memories of her grandma’s stories of fairies dancing in the moonlight. When she’d told her friend Lucy, she’d laughed at her but Amanda didn’t care. She believed in fairies and it would be her secret, her and Grandma’s. Sleep came easily as she had no fear of seeing her grandma’s ghost – Grandma told her she would watch over her and if she wanted to stand at the foot of the bed, she didn’t mind.
The familiar sound of her music box woke her and she peered at the bedside clock. It was two in the morning. Moonlight no longer shone across her floor – the moon had made its path across the sky and would be over the roof by now – but she could see quite clearly. She rolled over to look at her music box. It stood closed on her nightstand, but the tinkling melody surrounded her. She sat up, intrigued to find the source of the music, then slid out of bed and went to the window.
A shiver of excitement made her gasp at the sight of her grandma standing in the trees opposite the house. Wearing her pink dress and cardigan, just like in the photograph, and at her feet she could see fairies. Was she dreaming or had Grandma really come by to show her the stories about fairies were true? She pinched her arm hard and it hurt. I am awake. Without a second thought, she pulled on her dressing gown, pushed her feet into her slippers and, taking her house key, left her room, closing the door behind her.
Amanda had memorized the security code for the front door and her dad had instructed her how to disable the sensor lights during the day and turn the system on and off when visitors arrived. If she disabled the lights and CCTV cameras, the house alarm would reset five minutes from when she left the house. She could use her key to get back inside and as long as she input the code and reset everything, no one would ever know she’d gone out to see her grandma.
She looked through the glass in the front door and Grandma was waiting patiently for her. She punched in the code, disabled the lights and CCTV cameras, then opened the door and peered into the moonlight, but she could no longer see Grandma standing in the trees. Disappointment flooded over her as she moved onto the porch, closed the door behind her and searched the trees. She kept her voice low. “Grandma, where are you?”
A flash of movement caught her attention and she bolted down the steps and ran into the trees. Small bushes snagged at her dressing gown and low branches seemed to reach out to grab her hair. A figure came out of the darkness behind her and she huffed a sigh of relief and turned. “Grandma?”