Page 8 of The Lost Heiress
Senator Towers got up from behind his desk to greet him. The senator was in his mid-sixties now, his hair salted around the temples,but he still had a lean, athletic figure that made him seem younger than his age.
“Detective Church,” the senator said, “it’s nice to meet you.” He gave Church a firm handshake and looked him square in the eyes. “I apologize for all of the rescheduling,” Senator Towers went on. “It’s been a hectic few weeks—election year, you know.”
“I appreciate you making the time to meet with me in the midst of all the chaos,” Church said. “I know you’re a busy man.”
“Senator,” Robin said, “theTown & Countryphotographers are downstairs. I’m going to go make sure they have everything they need to set up. I’ll be back in thirty to get you.”
“Thanks, Robin,” the senator said.
And with that, Robin ducked out, closing the door behind her.
“Please,” Senator Towers said to Church, “sit.”
Church was getting the sense that nothing the senator did was without intention—the constant rescheduling, then moving the interview at the last moment from the police station to the senator’s own home office. Even how they were positioned in the room now—the senator sitting behind his desk while Church sat in a chair facing him. Everything was meant to undermine Church’s authority, to establish the senator’s dominance.
“You have a beautiful family,” Church said, nodding toward a framed photograph on the senator’s desk. In it, the senator stood on a beach in a tropical printed shirt, his bare feet in the sand, his tanned arm around a beautiful dark-haired woman, pulling her close. The waves foamed at their ankles, and in front of them were two preteen girls, both with braces on their teeth, smiling at the camera.
“Thank you,” the senator said. “That’s from our trip to the Dominican, many years ago. The girls are all grown up now. Evie works for a nonprofit in New York, securing funding for arts in underprivileged schools,” he said. “Liv is still at Yale, studying political science.”
“Following in her old man’s footsteps?” Church asked.
The senator chuckled. “Don’t try to tell her that. She’s very determined to forge her own path.”
“You must be very proud,” Church said.
“Yes,” the senator said. “I’m a very lucky man.” The senator cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, brow furrowed, his hands clasped across his middle. “So tell me, Detective, what’s this I hear about a second body?” Senator Towers asked.
Church was taken off guard by the senator’s question—not least of all because the sheriff’s office had not released any information to the public yet about their discovery.
“Come again?” Church asked.
“The second body,” Senator Towers said. “The one that was dug up in the garden the other day.”
“Where did you . . . ?”
“My housekeeper informed me,” the senator said.
“I see,” Church said, his mouth drawing into a grim line. He’d have to have a word with the forensics team—they needed to be more discreet. “Unfortunately,” Church continued, “as this is an ongoing investigation, there’s very limited information that I can share with you at the moment.”
The senator waited for him to go on, and when he didn’t, he prodded, “So whatcanyou share with me?”
“The sheriff will be making an official statement at the press conference tomorrow,” Church said. “Anything that can be shared with the public will be relayed then.”
“You’re joking,” Senator Towers said, leaning forward in his chair.
Church shook his head. “I’m quite serious.”
“I don’t understand,” the senator said. “Detective Vance always kept us informed of any movement in the case.”
Detective Richard Vance had been the original detective assigned to the case nearly forty years ago, when Saoirse Towers had first gone missing. He’d been retired for over a decade now. Church didn’t know him personally—their times at the sheriff’s office hadn’t overlapped—butChurch had gotten a good sense of Vance through reading Saoirse Towers’s case file. From the beginning, Vance had treated it as a missing person case, not a homicide, and he had never treated Senator Towers as a potential suspect. Instead, he had adopted an open-door policy with the senator—sharing any leads the department had gotten, their persons of interest, details that had not yet been made public. But as far as Church was concerned, the senatorwasa potential suspect, and he intended to treat him as such. Nine times out of ten, victims were killed by someone they knew, someone in their inner circle. And you didn’t get more inner circle than your own brother.
“Yes, Detective Vance had his own way of doing things,” Church said, not wanting to speak ill of his predecessor. “But, Senator, please try to understand—there are certain things I cannot tell you in order to protect the outcome of the case. Now, I’m coming at this with fresh eyes, and part of that is getting fresh statements, which is what I’m here to do. So if you would indulge me?”
The senator seemed taken aback by this. He shifted in his chair. This was clearly not how he had expected this conversation to go. He had thought he’d be the one asking the questions, but now, he found himself on the other end of things, not the receiver of information but the giver of it. He glared at the detective, and Church unwaveringly held his gaze.
“Yes, fine. Very well,” the senator said after a moment.
“Senator Towers,” Church said, “it was reported by several eyewitnesses that you left the party early the evening of your sister’s disappearance. Where did you go?”
