Page 67 of Investigate Away
No sooner did his feet land on pavement than Bailey and Jackie raced to his side, shoving a microphone in his face.
“Why were you called in?” Jackie asked.
“Is it because the Trinket Killer is back?” Bailey asked with a smug grin.
“No comment.” Jag opened the patrol car door.
“We heard there were two murders on the island. Are they related?” Jackie asked.
“You ladies have a great evening.” He turned the key and slammed the gearshift into reverse. He was going to hate having to face Bailey in a press conference. Once this was over, he was so going to enjoy going back to living his quiet life on the island.
Hopefully, with Callie.
* * *
Callie stood next to Jag, squeezing his hand as if she were falling off a ledge and he was her lifeline.
“Since when are you this nervous interviewing someone?” Jag asked.
She didn’t get a chance to answer as the front door to John Armstrong’s modest home in a suburb on the west side of Seattle swung open.
“Hello?” an older man with bright silver hair asked. He had a darker skin tone, as if he’d been lying in the sun for a few weeks. Deep wrinkles lined his lips and eyes. “May I help you?”
“We’re sorry to bother you.” She cleared her throat. “My name is Callie Dixon, and this is Langley Chief of Police Jagar Bowie.”
“I know who he is,” John said. “Did something happen?”
“I’m not here on official business,” Jag added, holding his hand up.
“Then why are you here?” John asked.
“Long story short,” Callie started. “I’m writing a book about the Trinket Killer and we—”
“I’m not giving you a statement about my ex-wife and whatever she might have done,” John said.
“I don’t want a statement.” Callie flicked some of her long hair over her shoulder. “We’d like to ask you about your daughter and her college roommate,” Callie said.
“Oh.” John ran a hand over his face, pulling open the door. “Would you like to come in?”
“Thanks.” Jag pressed his hand on the small of her back, nudging her forward. “We won’t take up too much of your time. We were also hoping to get updated contact information for Carol.”
“That I can’t help you with.” John led them to the family room where he took a seat in a recliner.
Callie made herself comfortable on the sofa, placing her elbow on the armrest while Jag continued to stand, stuffing his hands in his pockets and checking out the few pictures on the mantel.
“Why not?” Callie asked.
“I haven’t spoken to my daughter since right after the murder of her roommate, and before that, we didn’t have a good relationship. Her mother and I had a horrible marriage. Our divorce was even worse. Over the years, Leslie poisoned my daughter against me, and no matter what I did, Carol just didn’t want anything to do with me.” John shook his head. “And I didn’t do much to get her back, and that’s something I struggle with every day.”
“You have no idea where she went?” Callie asked.
John shook his head. “When her mother committed suicide, I hired a private investigator to look for Carol, but he came up empty-handed. It’s like she completely vanished.” John glanced toward Jag. “You know, while I didn’t like my ex-wife much, I have a hard time believing she killed herself. You knew her. Worked with her. What do you think?”
“I’ve wondered that myself,” Jag said.
“She was accused of tampering with evidence on the Trinket Killer case. Did she do it?”
“I hate to admit it, but she did.” Jag nodded. “I wish I knew why. It doesn’t make sense that she’d do that with the Trinket Killer murders and no other case.”
