Page 72 of The Pretender

Gabby’s hands landed on the table and the paper in her hand crinkled as it folded. “It was more than that. You know that, right? She worked with this team and they did reports for law enforcement and true crime television shows. She’s worked with the Innocence Project and others.”

The unexpected burst of defensiveness took him by surprise. “Do you think you need to sell her to me?”

“I want you to see her as more than a statistic.” Gabby’s voice took on an added urgency. “She was flawed and confused and sometimes scared, but she was funny and sweet and absolutely dedicated to the idea that every family deserved answers about their loved ones.”

Harris stretched an arm across the table and slipped his fingers over her clenched fist. “I’m sorry I never got to talk with her.”

For a second no one said anything. She stared at him and he stared back, willing her to understand on this issue they were on the same side.

Damon smacked his open hand against the top of the table with a sharp whack. “Papers.”

With the silence broken, Harris nodded and dug in. “Right.”

They worked for the next three hours without interruption. Every now and then one of them would hold up a document and ask for help clarifying it. They all made lists on their notepads. Harris didn’t know what was important so he highlighted anything that jumped out at him. They reviewed, analyzed and correlated. Each of them collected a stack they wanted to keep close and share with the others.

Music filled the room from whatever service Damon used on his computer. They stayed in there with the door locked. Stephen never tried to come in, but Harris had seen him walk onto the porch just before footsteps sounded on the stairs.

Ted and Kramer worked just outside the window, piling wood and discarded items from the fire in a big bin. The weather had gotten cooler and a storm threatened from farther out on the water. Kramer walked at his usual pace but called out orders, sending his son scurrying as they raced to miss the rain.

But Harris had found something. Maybe important, maybe not. It was one of those anomalies that jumped out and demanded attention.

He glanced over at Gabby. She had her hair pulled up in this convoluted knot on top of her head. He’d watched her do it. Just a pen and her hands. She didn’t use a mirror or anything. The whole thing proved his theory that women had spooky voodoo powers men would never understand. The end result was pretty stunning. She managed to be compelling without trying. Casual yet elegant with that sexy long neck and inviting mouth.

“Tell me what you know about this team she worked with.” His voice broke into the quiet room. Both Damon and Gabby looked up at him.

She made a humming sound. “Not much. It was online and they went back and forth on crime theories and suspects.”

Damon leaned over. “Why, what are you looking at?”

“Here are some transcripts for online chats. I can see the members going back and forth, talking and testing ideas.” They spent hours going through every detail of a cold case. Harris admired that level of dedication to anything. “And then this happened about ten months before Tabitha was killed.”

He turned the transcript copy around so both Damon and Gabby could see. With the tip of his pen, Harris pointed to a line about halfway down the page.

Gabby picked the page up and scanned it again. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be seeing.”

“A new member.” After months of debating with a set number of members, someone else came on the scene. “Crimesleuthing.”

Damon whistled. “That’s quite a username.”

That was not the part Harris found most interesting. He glanced at his notes and he laid out the theory. “He or she starts right before Tabitha’s birthday. Talks to members on open forums, gets invited to the much smaller private group.” That alone might not be significant, but that wasn’t all. “There are chats between Tabitha and this person, just the two of them, right up until she died.”

“Looks like the night before,” Damon said.

Gabby hadn’t eased up on her double-fisted grip on the papers. “You got this from Tabitha’s internet information? The same information we’re going to pretend was legally obtained.”

“Yeah, let’s pretend we did.” If they started waiting for probable cause and subpoenas they’d never get anywhere. Worse, they’d tip off anyone who was watching that there was movement in the case and where it came from.

“It looks like we have a new unsub.” Damon stretched as he reached for the coffeepot, which had already been refilled three times since they all sat down.

“Unknown subject,” Harris said, explaining the technical term.

“I know. I watch television.” Gabby frowned at him as if to say he was the one who lingered two steps behind, not her. “You’re thinking this person stalked Tabitha and then... what?”

They shouldn’t add two and two and get seven. Harris didn’t want her jumping to conclusions or filling in blanks. That meant he needed to keep the expectations low. “She’s careful but identities can be cracked. We may have a guy who figured out who she was, how much money she had, and came to find her. Or it could mean nothing.”

Gabby’s frown only deepened. “You think someone snuck on the island all those months ago and then did it again the other night just to burn down the library?”

Admittedly it sounded ridiculous when she spelled it out like that, but he did see an opening for how it might have happened. “If the person thought there was evidence proving a connection to Tabitha, that could explain it. Your inheritance issues have been in the news. How hard would it be to dig around and figure out the island might be sold or at least have a new owner soon?”

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