Page 24 of Her Final Hours
“That they are,” she said. Noah sensed that she was referring to what might have been between them. Her response was the perfect segue.
“How’s the new boyfriend?”
“Old, you mean. That was months ago. It didn’t last,” she said. She shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but it did. “Ah, he took off after a couple of weeks. The story of my life. I seem to have a way of pushing people away.” She squeezed out a strained smile.
Noah cocked his head to one side, his brow furrowing. “Alicia.”
She threw a hand up before he could get into it, glancing at her phone. “Shoot. I should get back to work.” She looked at him as she walked away, jabbing her finger. “Remember what I said if you need a break. You know, with the case and all. I could… probably swing by and help out with the kids; I’m off now for a week — overdue vacation time. Just give me a call. You’ve got my number, right?”
He gave a nod. “Thanks.”
McKenzie was in conversation with the farm owners while Callie’s cruiser was gone. No doubt she had been called away toan incident. Noah made his way over and could hear the conversation was heated.
“Aye, maybe, but I’m just saying it looks suspicious.”
The old-timer brushed McKenzie away like he was nothing but an annoying fly. “You might tell your partner here not to accuse me.”
“I didn’t accuse you. I merely poked holes in your alibi.”
Noah tugged at McKenzie’s arm, pulling him away while at the same time apologizing. “What are you doing?” he then asked.
“My job.”
“They’ve already collected the statements.”
“Aye, I know, but did you read them?”
“No, but I….”
“Then feast and withhold your judgment.”
He handed Noah a notebook. He flipped the pages a few times. “McKenzie, what am I looking for here?”
“Holes. Holes, my friend.”
“There are none.”
“Exactly. No one has an airtight statement. No one has asked what his grandchildren were doing down by the water. Anyone with a lick of sense would know that you don’t let kids that young run by a thrashing river.”
“They’re his grandkids. It’s his property.”
“Aye. Which makes it even more suspicious that the body just happened to get hooked up right behind the farm. You heard what Oz said; the deceased male wasn’t murdered there. I don’t see anything about a property search being conducted in that statement. For all we know, he could have hooks up in his barn, Ed Gein style.”
“McKenzie. Did you work as a detective in the Big Apple?”
“For over a decade. Why?”
“Then I think you need to get your eyes checked,” he said,opening the notebook to a page where it stated that multiple deputies searched the property and found no signs to indicate foul play or anything suspicious other than what had been found. He handed it over, and McKenzie stared at the pages in confusion. “I swear those bastards used invisible ink. I looked at this, and it wasn’t there.”
“Did you think to turn the pages?” Noah asked, shaking his head as he walked away.
Behind him, McKenzie cursed. “My eyes are just fine. Just fine, I tell you.”
Back at his vehicle, he pulled his phone out to check messages. There was one from Maddie, hoping to meet with him for coffee the next day, and one from Savannah to let him know that the child psychologist — Dr. Athena Blake — had returned to the county. It came with a phone number. He dialed it, hoping she had gleaned something from Jane Doe.
9
Monday, March 19, 1:10 p.m.
