Page 66 of Girl, Haunted

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

By the time Ella got back to the precinct, she had a text from Sheriff Redmond telling her that the newest victim was Amanda Krafton, forty-six. Now, outside the interview room, Luca was filling her in on the rest of the details.

‘No connection to haunted houses that I can find in my quick searches. The woman was a nursery assistant. Nothing in her bank statements that showed she ever visited haunts.’

Amanda’s killer had made no attempt to hide her identity, which all but confirmed to Ella that the victims were inconsequential. They could search for years and never find a connection between them. This killer craved bodies, not individuals.

‘Thanks, Hawkins. I’m going in.’

‘Want me in there?’

‘No. Stay out here and watch him closely. If you see any signs that this guy is lying, note them down.’

'Got it. He's been well looked after since he got here, and from what I've seen, he seems genuine.'

‘Let’s find out.’ Ella slipped into the interview room and eyed Gary Krafton over the rim of a Styrofoam cup. He was gripping onto it like it was the last life raft on the Titanic.Someone had even a blanket draped over his shoulders. She guessed a dead spouse earned you a bit of sympathy, even in a backwater like Yamhill.

‘Mr. Krafton,’ Ella said as she slid into the seat opposite him. ‘Apologies for the wait.’

His head jerked.Ella gentled her tone, channeling every ounce of compassion she could muster at whatever-the-hell o'clock at night it was.

‘I know this is difficult, but I need you to walk me through what happened tonight. Every detail you can remember.’

Gary flinched, then took afortifying gulp of the tar masquerading as coffee. ‘We... we had a fight. About some messages she found. From another woman.’

Her heart suddenly ached for Amanda with renewed fervour. The poor woman found her husband cheating and then ended up dead on the same night. It didn’t get a whole lot worse.

‘Okay, and then?’

‘I hit her.’ The words tumbled out of him in a guilty rush. ‘I didn't mean to, I swear. It was an accident.’

Accident, my ass.Ella had seen ‘accidents’ like that before. The kind that left black eyes and broken bones. The fact that Krafton copped to it so quickly set off alarm bells in her head. This guy was used to using his fists to make a point.

But she kept her trap shut. In her experience, guilty men had a hard time keeping quiet. The more rope you gave them, the faster they'd hang themselves. She swallowed back the reflexive disgust and nodded for him to continue.

‘She left after that,’ Krafton continued, right on cue. ‘I figured she'd cool off, come back. But she didn't.’

‘And then?’

Krafton's eyes darted away. ‘Amanda's got a habit of... wandering. I was worried.’

I'll bet you were, Ella thought acidly.Worried she'd wised up and bailed on your sorry ass.

‘I tracked her through this app she’s got. I asked her to install it when we got hitched.Just as a precaution, ya know?’

Ella did know. She'd seen it a million times, control freaks branding it as concern. But that was a battle for another day.

‘What did you find?’

‘The app said her phone was on Mercer Street. She’d been there for ten minutes before I got in my car and started driving. When I got there… well, you saw the rest.’

‘So let me get this straight,’ Ella said, ‘you two have a knock-down drag-out, you give her a black eye, and then you show up to find her dead?’

A shudder rippled through him, and this time, Ella didn't think it was for show. She'd seen her share of crocodile tears, the artful performances of the wretched trying to squirm out of guilt's noose. But this raw, messy anguish? Tough to fake, even for the most seasoned sociopath.

And Gary, with his soft middle and his clammy hands and his shirt buttoned up wrong, was no sociopath. An asshole, maybe. A control freak, sure. But the kind of cold-blooded psycho who could cut out his wife’s heart and then play the grieving widower? Unlikely.

He didn’t fit the psychological or the physical profile. Her killer was all brains, way too smart to kill his own wife as part of his spree.

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