Page 18 of Off the Hook

Doreen turned, a hint of fire in her eyes. “We keep our money in the bank. We don’t have anything to hide.”

Oscar gave me an innocent shrug at her bristle. I hurried to smooth things over. “Of course. He didn’t mean to imply otherwise.” I rested my hand on her shoulder, keeping an even tone. “We need to call in forensics to fingerprint up here. Let’s go back downstairs while we wait.”

Kylie’s mother scurried out, like she couldn’t leave fast enough, her husband lingering at the top of the stairs. “There’s no waythiswas an accident,” he hissed. “And whoever didthis, put Kylie in that canal.”

“It would seem highly likely that those incidents are connected,” I said cautiously, shooting Ramirez a look. We needed a moment to discuss the new development. I waved for Mr. Anderson to follow me downstairs. “If you don’t mind, wait for us here.” I motioned to the teak patio set under the tiki hut.

Leading Ramirez to the palm trees near the entrance of Kylie’s apartment, I explained, “This is where the key was hidden that Coulter used to enter.” I lifted the conch shell with my gloved hand.

“That key?” He pointed to the one in the gravel.

“No, I entered the key into evidence, but I brought it.” I pulled the plastic evidence bag out of my pocket and dangled it. “Coulter said the keys for both doors were there. That one must be for the upstairs.”

“Might as well send that for prints too,” Oscar said, scratching his balding head. “Though it’s not likely that anyone would’ve taken the time to put the key back in its place after tossing the joint.”

I nodded, reaching in my pocket for another evidence bag. “So someone was ransacking the place and Kylie surprised them…?”

Oscar looked grim, “It’s a possibility. Or someone killed Kylie and tried to make it look like a burglary afterward by ransacking the house upstairs.”

His theory was feasible, but something about it didn’t sit right with me.Who would have done this?

“Mrs. Anderson?” I asked, going to sit next to her under the tiki hut. “Did Kylie have her car with her? Her Jeep?”

She looked down at the cell phone in her lap, almost like she didn’t recognize it for a moment, and then she seemed to snap back to reality and smiled up at me. “No, it’s been in the shop waiting on a part. She had been taking the bus, or Uber.”

“What about Coulter?” I pressed gently. “What was their relationship like?”

“Coulter?” She looked up, surprised. “They haven’t been together for years. I always thought they might still end up together someday, until Kylie met Jake and fell head over heels.”

“Did Kylie talk to you about sharing the engagement news with Coulter?” I asked.

“No. Although I did ask her about that just before we left for Texas. I couldn’t help but worry.”

“Worry?” Oscar stepped closer. “Were you afraid of how he might react?” The hairs on my arm bristled, wishing he’d back off.

Mrs. Anderson blinked through tears. “I was afraid it’d break his heart all over again. But if you mean was I afraid that he would do something to hurt her… then, no. Coulter loved her. He would never do anything to hurt Kylie.”

Oscar pulled me to the side, whispering. “Could Coulter have been in the house upstairs before you saw him earlier?”

I frowned, admitting, “It’s possible.” A possibility I didn’t want to consider.

“We need to find out if he has the computer.”

I nodded in agreement before returning to the grieving mother. “If you’ll stay here until the rest of the team arrives, Detective Ramirez and I are going to look around a little more.”

They both nodded. “Of course.”

Oscar and I walked through the yard, down the stepping stones, the yellow police tape around the dock fluttering in the breeze as we ducked under it. The afternoon was eerily quiet after the adrenaline rush of Mrs. Anderson’s screams and the condition of the house upstairs. The only sound was the rustle of the palm trees and the distant hum of traffic on US 1. I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were missing something vital.

As Oscar and I paced things off, I noticed an area of pea gravel in the yard just outside the tape that looked slightly disturbed. I stepped outside the tape and crouched down, tracing the air over a few scuff marks in the gravel with my gloved finger. It was minimal, but it was there.

“Oscar, over here,” I called.

He walked over, peering at the ground. “Possible signs of a struggle,” he agreed, cupping his chin. “Good work, Detective.”

I wanted to relish the rare compliment, but my heart pounded with the thought that these scuffs marked where Kylie lost a battle. But with whom?

CHAPTER 10

---