Page 22 of Wild Wolf
"The little girl was taken to the hospital. She died a few days later. Brain swelling. There was nothing they could do.”
"Was Hannah charged?" I asked.
"No. Loretta brought a wrongful death suit, claiming that Hannah was on her phone and was distracted. There were texts to and from Hannah's phone around the time of the incident, but that didn't necessarily prove that Hannah was looking at her phone at the time. Hannah’s attorney filed a motion for summary judgment. The judge dismissed the case. As you can imagine, Loretta was pissed. She blamed Hannah for the child's death. She made threats, but Hannah dismissed them. She didn't want to report the woman for fear it might exacerbate the situation. Hannah just wanted everything to go away. But it wasn’t the kind of thing you could just make disappear. God knows we spent enough money on attorney’s fees in the civil case.”
"Do you think your wife was distracted when she hit the girl?" I asked, just out of curiosity.
Peterson shrugged. "I don't know. I wasn't with her at the time.” He paused. "Is this off the record?”
"Just a conversation among friends," I said.
"Hannah had her phone glued to her ear at all times,” he said in a hushed voice. “I don't doubt she was on the phone." He took another deep breath. "Hell, I don't blame Loretta. I’d have done the same thing.”
"Do you mind if we take a look around your apartment?"
His brow knitted again, and he looked at me like I was insane. "Do you have a warrant?”
"No.”
"Then I'm not going to let you search my apartment.”
"What have you got to hide?"
"I got nothing to hide. But I'm not inviting trouble into my house either."
"I’d like to talk to your girlfriend for a moment.”
Peterson considered it. "On second thought, I think we’re done talking."
He closed the door and latched the deadbolt.
I shared a look with Jack.
"I don't know about you, but I'm not so sure that guy didn't do it.”
"Sounds like he had a hell of a motive,” I replied.
We headed back down the hallway toward the elevators. I texted Isabella and asked her to look into the cellular data from Hannah’s Stingray Bay mansion. Hopefully, we’d catch a break, and the killer’s cell phone pinged the tower from the kitchen at the time of the murder.
I wasn't holding my breath.
Most people were smart enough to shut off their mobile devices when committing crimes these days. But it was something that was easy to forget to do, especially in the heat of passion. There was a lot of passion all over the floor in the kitchen.
It was late, but we decided to do a knock-and-talk with Sutton Duval. She lived a block over from Hannah on Crystal Court.
I put a heavy fist against the door, and a yappy dog launched into a tirade. Its tiny claws pattered against the tile in thefoyer and barked at the door until a light flicked on in the house.
It was another cookie-cutter Stingray Bay mansion with perfectly trimmed hedges and a circular drive with an expensive SUV. The silver Mercedes G wagon didn't come cheap.
The light on the video doorbell lit up. A woman's voice crackled through. "Who is it?"
I flashed my badge to the lens and made introductions. "We need to have a word with you.”
"It's a little late, don't you think? What is this regarding?”
"The death of Hannah Quinn.”
That hung there for a moment. "She's dead?"
