Instead of replying to Fletch’s text, I tap on his name and bring the phone to my ear. Moving through the front door and onto the tiny stoop outside, I close up behind me and make a beeline for the cruiser parked at the curb.
“Hey,” he answers on the fly, his footsteps pounding against the pavement as downtown Copeland traffic hums around him. “That was quick. You good over there?”
“Yeah. We were finishing up with Josey’s last clients before she went missing last night.”
“Anything there?”
“Nah. Dad’s alibied up tight, Mom was cooking dinner, daughter’s still spinning in shock. What’ve you got?”
“I found Josey’s dad.”
“With blood on his hands and her phone in his back pocket?”
“Nope. Alan Masterson’s current address includes steel bars, shared bathrooms, and three meals a day courtesy of the state. I read your notes from when you spoke to Josey’s mom, the bits about how he was never physically violent with them, but?—”
“He escalated.” I stop at the front of our car and lean against the hood. “He’s in for assault?”
“Mmhm. Maybe he never got physical with Josey and her mom, but he’s been married and split three times since then. Second wife mentioned physical abuse during divorce proceedings, but she hadn’t reported any of it to the cops in the past, so it was brushed aside as a ploy to ‘win’ in court. Third wife didn’t have to report it, because he put her in the hospital half a dozen times and mandatory reporting took care of the paperwork. The last time was the worst and ended with titanium plates inserted in her skull.”
“That’s why he’s in prison?”
He scoffs. “No. Even then, the prick got off with a six-month good behavior thing and an order to attend men’s anger classes. Guess the lessons didn’t stick, because he went back the day after his six-monthswere up, broke into her house in the middle of the night, grabbed their newborn baby out of her crib, and claimed he was keeping her. He wanted a fifty-fifty split custody schedule, but instead of petitioning the courts like a normal, functional adult would, he thought kidnapping would be the smarter option.”
“Did he hurt them?”
“Nah. Mom was seeing someone new by that point. It wasn’t even sexual yet, according to the case file notes, but she’d told the guy about her past, explained why she wasn’t rushing into anything, said how she was afraid of her ex and whatnot. The new guy stayed on their couch that night. Oh, and did I mention he was a professional boxer?”
I choke out a tight laugh. “Ah, well, that’ll do it. Right place, right time.”
“Or wrong place, wrong time, depending on one’s perspective. New dude taught Masterson a lesson, messed him up good, called the cops, and pressed charges. The courts did nothing about the titanium plates in her skull, but the boxer let a jab through so he’d have something to complain about, and now Josey’s dad is in his fourth year of eight. He’s a prick, and this is totally his MO. But there’s no alibi tighter than the one he has.”
“Alright, well…” I fold one arm across my chest and glance up as the afternoon sun burns the back of my neck. “We’ll strike him off and keep moving. Anything else I need to know?”
“Yeah. You said Josey had a boyfriend?”
“Are you saying otherwise?”
“Yep. I tracked him down and called him up, just like you asked me to. While you’re over there being Drake Banks’ best buddy, I’m doing the secretarial shit and calling ahead to line interview times up.”
I roll my eyes.
“Caleb’s at home and ready to chat when you get there, but FYI: he said they broke up about six weeks ago.”
“They… what?” I glance across at the Carpenters’ opening front door and watch Drake step outside. He stands on the stoop and offers them a card.Call us if you think of anything else. “But her mom said?—”
“Caleb claims it was quiet. They’re still friends, and there are no hard feelings. Yada yada yada. She was heading off to college, and he’s looking at jumping all in on the military, so they agreed to cool things off a little. They knew they needed to focus, and long-distance relationships tend to get tricky. They didn’t want to tarnish six years of happiness with something that might’ve turned bitter and fell apart anyway, so they took a step back and committed to spending the summer as friends.”
“Did he sound like he was full of shit, secretly mad about the breakup, and slit her throat anyway?”
He snorts. “No, he sounded like he actually meant it. But I’ve locked you in for five o’clock over at his place. His parents will be present, too. I’ll send you the address.”
“Thanks.” I lock eyes with Drake as he turns from the Carpenters’ front door and heads this way. Dropping my gaze, I lower my voice just for Fletch. “I miss you.”
He barks out a laugh so loud I justknowit stops traffic. “I wanna tease you for sounding like a pussy, but I miss you too. I don’t see any mushroom clouds in the sky from the Banks/Malone blow up yet, so whatever you’re doing, keep doin’ it. Finish this out, catch a killer, kiss Fabian’s ring, and fix what you broke. You talked to Mayet since we split this morning?”
“No, why?” I push off the hood of my car and beat Banks to the driver’s side door. “Did something happen?”
“I heard she’s cracking the whip and arguing with Solomon. Aubree’s been texting me sneaky updates,” he snickers. “But I meant, have you heard fromChief Medical ExaminerMayet? Do we have anything new on the autopsy?”