Chapter Thirty

“Mr. and Mrs. Wagner, thank you for coming in. I’m sorry I had to ask this of you. Meeting at your home would have been more comfortable.” Elizabeth closed her office door, gesturing at the two chairs. Lila had grabbed the extra from the bullpen.

As the couple sat, offering the typical platitudes of quite all right, and no trouble, Elizabeth took a position sitting on the corner of her desk. Lila had gingerly eased her body onto Bentley’s chair.

“We have Maya’s phone records from the last three months.” Peter Wagner held out the half-inch thick stack. “And I was able to gain access to her app history. She had some we’d forbidden her to have, and we have no idea how she managed to get them on her phone and past all the firewalls we installed.”

Elizabeth took the papers. “Today’s teenagers are resourceful. They know how to do things we only dream of being able to do. Some of those apps can delete the history and we would have to get a warrant to even get access to that information. And if the company complied, it would be months before we got all that information.” Months Elizabeth wasn’t about to risk in solving Maya’s and Regan’s deaths. She skimmed through the top sheet. Call and text history. “Did you see anything in here that indicated contact with Regan?”

“There’s a few odd names and IDs that might be her, but we aren’t certain.” Mary fiddled with her hair. “I haven’t connected with my sister. She could be on one of her binges and there’s no finding her until she’s ready and willing. Then there’s the chance she doesn’t care.”

“As Regan’s next of kin, we can release her to you.”

“I’m afraid that might be the only option we have.”

Elizabeth read through the next page. A new ID popped near the bottom of the page. Flipping to the third, she saw that it continued, and the contact with it grew in frequency. “Do you know if this Bandino45 was in contact with her before you moved from Illinois?”

Peter shook his head. “It’s hard to say. Like we mentioned, the girls used to get prepaid phones and made all their contact that way.”

“How did you keep her from doing that again?” Lila asked.

“Wasn’t much we could do if she did get one,” Peter said. “I haven’t found one in her room if she did have one.”

“Maya could have kept it with her, and her killer took it. The phone you said she did have is still missing,” Elizabeth said.

“Is there any way you can track it by the GPS?” Mary asked.

“The techs with DCI are working on that,” Lila said. She stood and joined Elizabeth next to her desk. “Best we can do is learn her movements before the phone was disabled.”

“There has to be something you can tell from that.” The tone in Peter’s voice was bordering on pleading.

How Elizabeth wished she could tell the couple more, but there just wasn’t much to go on.

“Once the techs are done, we will,” Lila assured them.

Obviously, her investigator knew or suspected something Elizabeth didn’t.

“Mr. and Mrs. Wagner, may I show you a picture?” Lila asked, pulling out her cell phone.

The couple blinked at each other. Elizabeth listed a bit to the right. What was her deputy up to?

“I guess,” Peter said.

Lila opened the image, angling her phone just enough for Elizabeth to see the photo of the mystery man from the cooler. Enlarging the image, Lila turned the phone to the couple.

“Do recognize this man?”

Peter took her phone and stared at the picture. “Yes.” His gaze flicked up to the women. “This is Regan’s boyfriend.” He looked to his wife.

“I think his name was Robbie or Bobby. Something like that.” Mary took the phone from her husband. “He’s dead too, isn’t he?”

“Unfortunately, he is.” Lila took her phone back and closed out the photo gallery. “We learned from school security footage that he picked up Maya on the day she went missing. An eyewitness places him inside the car with Maya.”

Peter cast a look at his wife. “It makes sense he’s here. He followed Regan wherever she went. She had this weird pull on him.”

Elizabeth crossed her arms and leaned back. Betting woman that she was, she bet when the DNA came back on Robbie or Bobby it would match the sample from Regan’s swab. They just needed to learn how he died and his real identity.

A knock on her door put everyone on pause.

“Yes?” Elizabeth called out.

Georgia poked her head in. “There’s a call from the hospital on line one. You need to take this, Sheriff.”

“If you’d follow me,” Lila said and led the Wagners out of the office.

Once the door was closed, Elizabeth circled her desk and picked up the line. “Sheriff Benoit.”

“Sheriff, this Israel. We need you to come down to the hospital.”

“Has something happened with Brent?”

“Not yet. But there’s a problem with the family.”

“I understand. I’m on my way. Thank you, Israel.”

“Just hurry.”

She hung up and exited the office. “Georgia, I’m going back to the hospital.” Her gaze swung to the remaining deputies. “Keep doing what you were doing.”

“Ellie, what’s wrong?” Rafe asked.

“Nothing to worry about.” She headed for the hall. “Georgia, call Joel and have him give you an update on Bentley.”

“Sheriff, do you need me to come?” Lila asked as she met her in the hall entrance.

“No. I’ve got it. You keep tracking down who would have a reason to shoot Brent. And why someone would want to kill three young people who had no connections to this community and a beloved teacher.”

Lila saluted her.

Elizabeth hurried out of the building and to her SUV. Israel’s meaning was loud and clear. Sophie Meyer may have very well reached her limit with her husband’s animosity.

Israel pointed her in the right direction, but the act was unnecessary as the raised voices echoing down the hall were indication enough for Elizabeth. Two security personnel barricading the hall parted when they spotted her coming, allowing her to pass. Their movements caught the attention of a nurse and Dr. Thorpe, who waved her forward.

“For the last time, Sophie, I won’t allow it.”

Elizabeth stepped into the doorway and grimaced.

“You gave up your right to make demands over our son the day you decided he was no longer a Meyer.”

Wearing a long jean skirt and a white blouse under a tooled leather coat, Martha Kauffmann stood in front of the waiting room windows, watching the couple bicker.

Elizabeth sighed. Not the family drama she expected.

“Pratt. Sophie.”

Her bark brought a halt to the verbal lashings. A corner lifted on Ma’s mouth, her eyes sparking.

“Dr. Thorpe, are you allowing visitors?”

“For a short time.”

“Please take Mr. Meyer to see his son.”

Stunned, Pratt gaped at her. Angling her body, she gestured for him to follow the doctor. As he passed, he gave her a stilted nod. Once the two men and the nurse left, Elizabeth dismissed the security guards.

She crossed her arms and sized up the situation. “Ladies, would you mind explaining what this is all about?”

Sophie looked to Ma, then turned her back on Elizabeth. The mouthpiece of the pair stepped forward.

“It appears to be a simple thing, Ellie. Brent is family, and Sophie asked me to come. Since her daughters are out of state and Pratt—well, Pratt being Pratt, it only seemed fitting.”

“Your relation to Sophie is more distant than, say, her relation to Rafe and Joel.” Elizabeth stared into the woman’s back. “Why not ask them to come?”

“The boys are otherwise occupied. I was available.”

“Sophie, I’m asking you the questions, not her.”

The distraught blonde faced Elizabeth but remained closemouthed. For all the spit and vinegar she spewed at her husband, she was reverting back to her submissive ways now?

Ma sighed. “She’s been through the wringer, and Brent ain’t out of the woods yet. Let her be.”

How . . . Christian of her. This, coming from a woman who had been nothing but a flagrant thorn in the side of Pratt Meyer for years. Far as Elizabeth knew, not once had she ever lent a giving hand to the Meyers. And the same for them, even after Henry’s and Daniel’s deaths.

“You, above all people, know the distress your being here puts on Pratt.” Elizabeth stepped toward the Kauffmann matriarch. “And you relished the chance to poke that beast.”

“I relish nothing. In times of tragedy, I take the high road. Family is family, no matter the distance or the estrangement. When I lost my Daniel, Sophie was there for me.”

Now that revelation Elizabeth found suspect. Why would Sophie support Ma when the older woman had it out for her husband every chance she got? And was Sophie aware that Ma was still throwing around accusations against Pratt for Daniel’s death?

This whole thing made no sense.

Unless there was an ulterior motive on Ma’s part. Elizabeth didn’t put it past the woman. Inching closer to Ma, she lifted a finger to the other woman’s face. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’ll see that it ends.”

Ma glared at the appendage, and her features tightened. “Fine words coming from you.”

From the corner of her eye, Elizabeth caught movement. She looked over her shoulder. Hovering in the doorway, features strained, Stephen glanced from his mother to Elizabeth.

“Mama?”

“It’s all right, baby. The sheriff was just asking me a few questions,” the old crow croaked.

Elizabeth backed from Ma. Stephen’s taut expression melted into a lopsided smile.

His gaze tracked to Elizabeth and settled there. “Mama, we need to depart,” he said, his tone more cultured than that of his family.

Speaking of which. “Where is Karl?”

Ma passed Elizabeth to join her son. “He’s working. Like a good boy.”

Karl, a good boy? Only in the eye of the beholder.

“Sophie, dear, Stephen has a meetin’ he needs to be at. I’ll be back quick as a flash if you need me.”

“Thank you, Martha.”

With parting smirk, Ma left. Stephen right behind her.

Elizabeth’s taut muscles slackened, and she nearly collapsed. Was this what Joel referred to as situational awareness fatigue? An adrenaline crash of sorts after a tense confrontation. She didn’t like it.

Her refereeing skills no longer needed, it was time to move on. “Sophie, I will speak with Pratt. Please avoid any more clashes with him.” She quit the waiting room.

Her forced march slowed the farther she got from the waiting room. The last twenty-four plus hours had been hellish, and the next twenty-four did not look any better. She needed sleep, she needed peace, and she wanted everyone to stop finding ways to drive her bats hit crazy.

Rounding the corner, Elizabeth reached the bank of elevators and caught one going up—alone. Tucked in a corner, she sagged into the juncture and wedged her head inside the V, closing her eyes for the brief ride. Knotted muscles in her shoulders tightened. Prickles raced up her neck, into the back of her head. A jolt of energy would be much appreciated.

“Fifth floor.”

Disembarking, Elizabeth followed the signs directing her to ICU. A nurse in dark blue scrubs spoke to Dominic. The doctor turned and lifted his chin to Elizabeth.

“Thank you for that,” he said in a lowered voice when she joined him.

“I still don’t get why she was even here, and what Sophie was thinking asking her to be here.” She peeked past his shoulder. “Is Pratt still with him?”

“Yes. I gave him a few extra moments.” Dominic massaged the back of his neck. “Brent’s blood pressure isn’t stabilizing. If my measures don’t work, I’ll have to take him back into surgery.”

The exhaustion took on a deeper level. She wanted to sink to the floor and not get up.

“Honest opinion, Dominic.” Elizabeth leveled her best pleading eyes on him. “Will Brent ever return to law enforcement?”

“Honest opinion? First, I want to make sure he doesn’t die.” Right there was the reason Dominic Thorpe, even in all his arrogance, was the best.

“Can I see him?”

“For a few minutes. Brent is still out of it, so he won’t talk.” He turned and started walking down the hall. “Did he say anything to Deputy Dayne about who shot him?”

“No. She didn’t even think to ask.”

Elizabeth followed Dominic to the lone room with beeping and whooshing machines. She lingered outside the sliding glass door, glimpsing the IV in the hand of her young deputy when the doctor parted the curtains. A moment passed before Pratt and Dominic exited the room.

Coming to a halt at her side, Pratt stayed facing the wall behind her. “Elizabeth.”

“Pratt.” She kept her gaze glued to the slit in the curtains revealing a sliver of the young deputy’s body connected to all those machines.

“The deputy who was with him.”

“Deputy Dayne.”

“Thank her for doing what she could to save him.” He closed his sheeny eyes. “Please.”

Gripping Pratt’s shoulder, she squeezed. “I will. She and Brent were getting along well together.”

They stood that way for a few clicks of the second hand. Pratt straightened his shoulders, and Elizabeth’s hand slipped away.

“Do you have any regrets?” he asked a moment later.

“More than I care to express.”

“How do you cope with them?”

She sighed. “I let them go.” Shoring up her walls, she took a step into the ICU room. “Pratt.” She looked back, meeting the man’s troubled gaze. “I will find who did this. And they will pay for their sins.”

A mere twitch of his head was all the acknowledgment she got before he walked away. Elizabeth didn’t bother to watch him leave. Instead, she stepped into the sterilized atmosphere.

“Hey there, Brent. It’s Ellie.”