Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 51995 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51995 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
She nodded. “The same symbol was used by the Order of Seven. It’s found in several of the journal entries at the museum.”
The fine hairs along the back of his neck stood at attention. Why do this? Why point to the treasure hunt at all—unless this was an attempt at misdirection? What if the murder had nothing to do with the treasure and everything to do with the affairs?
“Call the sheriff and offer your assistance. Insist on it,” he commanded. “I want to know what’s found, when it’s found.”
Hightower nodded, turned on her heel and left.
Conrad watched one interview after another, then made calls and verified alibis. Lots and lots of alibis. An arduous but necessary progress. Most checked out. Some didn’t.
His team hadn’t yet deciphered the full list of women in Hotchkins’s planner. The “buffet.” Thankfully the PA had emailed the names the doctor mentioned to Dr. Garcia. Those he’d verbally admitted to sleeping with. Whittington had added ‘Jane Ladling’ at the bottom, next to the only notation. Dr. Garcia doesn’t remember her specifically, but he says he can’t rule her out, either, because Dr. Hotchkins did mention visiting the cemetery recently.
Jane had not cited any such visit. Which meant Hotchkins had made the visit in secret. Conrad hadn’t changed his mind about the gravekeeper. She was a hundred percent on the up and up. No way the cupcake had lied or committed such a violent act. The cat, on the other hand… now there was a possible killer.
Snickering, he reclined in his chair. Tucked away in his private office, he allowed his thoughts to veer deeper in Jane’s direction. What was she doing right this second? Should he return her call? Or ask her to come in for an official interview?
The tension in his shoulders eased as he warmed up to the idea. What would she think of his workspace? He imagined her cottage stuffed with hats and cat toys. Based on his observations of the old business center, Ladlings loved family photos. Did images consume her private walls?
Hmm. He’d never bothered to hang any pictures here. Just certificates. Not a single frill anywhere, in fact, which was precisely the way he liked it. Or thought he’d like it. Guess it depended on the decorator.
A new knock sounded at the door. Conrad sat up a little too quickly, as if he’d gotten caught doing something he shouldn’t. He pursed his lips before calling, “Come in.”
Barrow entered, saying, “Got the coroner’s report.” The agent strode over to drop the file on the desk. “Narrowed the time of death to somewhere between one fifteen and one forty-five.”
“Excellent. Thank you. Hopefully we can use the information to expedite a meeting with Mr. Miller.” Who still hadn’t returned his call. With that thought, he forgot about Barrow and dove into the file.
Cause of death: severed aorta via broken rib. So. Not the blunt force trauma to the head Conrad had expected. Though the doctor had suffered a severe skull fracture. Possible weapon: something small, metal and heavy, with a sharp edge. Most likely scenario: blow to the temple, six feet fall and crash into the coffin. The broken ribs occurred on impact. He’d died seconds later.
No foreign fibers were found on the body. Nothing but dirt under his fingernails. Because why make things easy?
He picked up a pen and crafted a possible timeline of events.
Roughly 6:30 p.m., Dr. Hotchkins arrives home. Fights with his wife about his affairs.
Close to 8:00, he shuts himself in his office to study treasure hunt notes.
9:45, wife believes he’s still inside the office. She turns on the security system and takes a sleeping pill.
At exactly 10:33, the security system is disabled.
There were no incoming or outgoing calls or texts on Dr. Hotchkins’s phone at the time—which indicated he’d planned his excursion. Further proof: he’d left his phone at home. He must have had a second device no one had found…because the killer had taken it.
Those footprints circling the old business center and the cleanliness of the porch continued to intrigue Conrad. Clearly something had gone down there. But had that something occurred at the hands of a jealous husband, a fed-up colleague, or a scorned lover?
1:15-1:45. The killer strikes Dr. Hotchkins.
6:30. Jane finds the body.
Killer had plenty of time to clean the entire Garden.
Conrad rubbed tired, burning eyes, then reached for his mug of coffee. Empty again.
Knock, knock. “Did you ever go home?” Barrow asked.
Chin jerking up, Conrad spotted his fresh-faced partner in the doorway. The agent must have gone home—and brought a new morning with him upon his return.
Conrad had been at his desk all night, going over files?
“You look like crap,” the other man announced.
“Wrong. I look like determination.” He scrubbed a hand over his stubbly jaw before returning his focus to the paperwork. “I will finish organizing my thoughts or die trying.”