Page 29 of Every Deadly Suspicion

He’d grown up in Dry Oaks, left after high school, and was a cop in San Francisco for a time. He came back to Dry Oaks and was hired on by Chief Barnes about three years ago. She guessed Carver’s change in behavior happened because they had history. He’d been the leader of the boys who had teased her when she was a kid and didn’t care for her being his boss.

It wasn’t until dessert that Joe came up. With a large piece of lemon meringue pie between them, Hanna said, “I told Everett about the request from the state.”

“What did he say?”

“That it was my decision, but it obviously upset him.”

“I’m sure. With Scott gone, he’s only got Chase, a vivid reminder of what happened.”

“True. I guess in a way I’m lucky. Joe’s never been in my life, so it’s easy to shut him out of my mind. Everett can’t do that with Chase. He’ll always see Joe’s handiwork.”

“Have you met Chase?”

Her mouth full, Hanna held up her index finger in a “just a moment” signal. She thought about the time she and Jared had hiked up to Beecher’s Mine cabin. An old memory but strong, of Chase sobbing and cursing the wind. She would not tell that story to Nathan. He’d been very tight-lipped when she explained to him about Jared.

“He’s out and about every so often. When I was still in uniform, I handled a call where he was present. Traffic accident. His brother was driving and got rear-ended by another car. I’d always heard that Chase was generally confined to a wheelchair, but that night he was on crutches, and he got around pretty good. The scars make him look a little scary.”

“Scary?”

“Yeah, the scars on his face. It almost looks as if he were made up for a horror movie. But he didn’t say anything off. Just shook his head when I asked if he’d been hurt in the collision.” She remembered that day and added, “Hmmm. I don’t know how it would work, having Joe here. I can’t imagine it would make Chase happy.”

Nathan had just put a big bite of pie in his mouth, and she watched as he chewed.

He swallowed. “Okay, how about I list all the ‘yes, it cans,’ and you list all the—”

His phone buzzed. She knew that he was on call. He answered a couple of questions, then said, “I’ll be there in twenty,” then he hung up.

“A body?” Hanna asked, already knowing the answer.

Nathan nodded. “It looks like another one.”

CHAPTER 15

SETTLING INTO HIS VEHICLE,Nathan paused before he started the engine. He hated leaving Hanna to tramp around a scene of death. That was doubled considering that he knew what kind of scene he’d be tramping in.

Another dead woman.

He and his partner dubbed the guy the “Lonely Heart Killer,” and so far it was the toughest case he’d ever handled. The only thing they knew for sure was that the killer had found his first two victims online through a dating site. This would be the third in a little over three months. Actually, as he thought about the date, Nathan realized that it had only been three weeks since the last body had been dumped. Was the guy breaking form?

He started the car and pulled away, going over the details of the case in his mind. The first woman, Jane Haskell, had been a resident of Twain Harte, a small mountain town not far from Dry Oaks. Her purse, her phone, and her car were all missing. She lived alone and had no family and no great circle of friends. It was only when a rent payment was missed that a landlord stepped forward and filed a missing person report.

To Nathan it was tragic that Jane had lain in the morgue fortwo weeks before anyone missed her. It was also a hindrance to the investigation because it wasn’t until they’d located her residence and her computer that they had any kind of theory about who’d taken her life. They did a deep dive into her computer and phone records and uncovered an online liaison.

About the time they’d discovered the online connection with the first victim, the second body was found: Barb Grant. Again, there was no purse, no phone, and no car. Barb had a unique tattoo of a VW Bug on her shoulder. Nathan and his partner sent a picture of the tattoo to local media, and they got an ID on the woman a little faster, but it still took a couple of days.

Barb Grant hailed from Sonora. Immediately similarities were noticed. Both women were middle-aged and single. There were no husbands or boyfriends to investigate. Both women had lived alone and didn’t socialize much. Their computers and phone records both shared the same story of women in online relationships. The kicker was the profiles they’d been interacting with were both fake. The profile pictures had been stolen from legitimate people, two men Nathan and his partner reached out to, who were unaware that an online predator was using their photos to facilitate a fraud.

Tech crimes had the victims’ computers and dissected them as best they could, but the trail went cold.

It was clear that both women had been trapped by catfishing scams. From the messages recovered, the suspect strung the women along, pledging love and devotion and asking for money. While they were dealing with two different fake profiles, Nathan and his partner were certain it was the same guy. With Haskell he called himself Franco, and with Grant, he was Gerard. He had used a lot of the same phrases, played on each woman’s loneliness the same way.

“You’re a beautiful, vibrant woman. I love the way you fix your hair.”

“I love reading your posts—you are precious and insightful.”

“Baby, you’re beautiful. Actresses and models have nothing on you.”

“If I was there, I’d never leave your side. I’d cherish you. Our time chatting is the highlight of my day.”

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