“Tell me about the divorce. Was it nasty?”
“Seeing as you have all the answers, why are you here?”
“Word is she and her soon-to-be ex-husband mixed it up a few times.”
“Talk to him.”
“I’m asking you.”
And then she cut through her own indignation and really thought about why he was here. Kier was a homicide detective, and he wasn’t making a social call. What had happened? She thought about the last time she’d seen Sierra. The woman had breezed into her office unannounced and demanded that Angie settle her divorce immediately. Sierra needed cash and wasn’t ashamed to admit it.
“Do you know where she might be?” Kier asked.
Sierra could be reckless. “Why the interest in Sierra Day? Is she in trouble?”
“She was reported missing by the West End Theater manager ten days ago.”
“You don’t work missing persons.”
He shifted his stance. “Did her husband ever threaten her?”
“Has something happened to Sierra?”
“Like I said, she is missing.”
“And like I said, you don’t work missing persons. What aren’t you telling me, Detective?”
He studied her. “Sierra’s stats match the characteristics of a body we found late last night.”
“Characteristics?”
“Female. Mid-twenties. Five-foot-six to five-foot-eight.”
“That fits Sierra and a lot of other women.” Her skin chilled. “What else do you know about your victim?”
“Not much.”
“Meaning?”
He studied her, as if wondering how much to give for maximum return. “All we have are bones.”
“Bones.” For a moment her heart softened for the unknown young woman who’d died. “It can’t be Sierra. I just saw her about ten days ago. It’s been so cool the last few weeks. A body wouldn’t decompose that quickly.”
“Like I said, her missing persons report matches the medical examiner’s preliminary examination.”
“So you’ve not made a positive identification?”
“We’re in the process.”
“The link between A and B sounds slim.”
“It’s a start.”
Her gaze narrowed. “We don’t have anything to say to each other until you have a positive identification on your Jane Doe.”
His lips flattened, signaling frustration. “Do you still represent Dr. Dixon?”
Mention of Dixon’s name caught her off guard. She tightened her grip on the towel and jerked it up. “What does Dixon have to do with this?”
“He was Sierra’s plastic surgeon.”
Sierra was vain and never satisfied with anything. Plastic surgery made sense. But to use Dixon … what woman would allow him to cut into her flesh? “Dixon has a lot of patients.”
“When is the last time you saw him?”
She frowned, annoyed. “It’s been a couple of years. He’s not my client anymore.”
“Did Sierra ever mention Dixon?”
Until she spoke to Sierra she had to walk a fine line and not breach her attorney–client relationship. “Do you believe Dixon is linked to your Jane Doe?”
“Let’s just say when Dixon’s name comes up, I pay attention.”
“So there is no evidence connecting Dixon and your Jane Doe? And your links between Jane Doe and Sierra Day are slim.”
He frowned.
“You don’t have squat.”
“I will soon.”
“Don’t let me stop you.”
Kier tensed. “I’ll be in touch.”
It took effort not to take a step back. “I can’t wait.” She moved to leave.
He blocked her path, and for a split second she glimpsed his gnawing anger and frustration. “Do you even give a shit that your client is missing?”
A burst of air from a vent above hit her skin puckering it with gooseflesh. “I’m not the bad guy here, Detective.”
“So you say.”
The jab was intended to piss her off and make her say something she shouldn’t. She’d used the technique herself. “Call me when you have proof.”
Angie moved around Kier, walking toward the ladies’ shower room with careful assured steps.
When she was abletostrip off her bathing suit and duck under the hot spray of the shower, she was trembling. Sierra was missing. Was this just another Sierra stunt? Did the connection to Dixon matter? Both bits of evidence could be totally unrelated. Likely they were not linked.
Still, she decided to make a few phone calls when she got back to the office and see if she could find Sierra.
Malcolm got into the waiting gray unmarked car parked in front of the gym and glanced over at Garrison, who sat behind the wheel. His body was relaxed back against the seat, and his wrist rested easily on the top of the steering wheel. He’d kept the car running and the heater blasting. “How did it go?”
“How do you think? She gave me nothing.”
Gar
rison sighed. “I should have talked to her. It’s no secret you two don’t care for each other.”
“Yeah.” Kier wondered that himself as he’d left the gym and strode across the parking lot. He’d been too anxious to drop the bad news on Carlson to see her reaction. He’d wanted to see her tossed off balance and upset.
“She might have been more polite if you’d asked the questions, but the bottom line doesn’t change. Carlson is one smart attorney and she won’t give away shit until she’s looked at all the angles.” Kier glanced at his notes. “We need to find Sierra Day’s husband.”
“I made a few calls while you were inside. Brian Humphrey works at a nonprofit in Arlington.”
“I thought he was an actor.”
“Only on nights and weekends. Computer technical work pays the bills.”
Malcolm checked his watch. “Yeah, I want to get to him before Burgess or one of his friends tips the guy off, and he lawyers up.” He shook his head. “Damn, I hate lawyers.”
Chapter 4
Wednesday, October 5, 9 A.M.
Malcolm and Garrison arrived at Humphrey’s office building near Van Dorn Street. The square building had a smooth façade made of pressed uniform brick. Tinted windows, which likely did not even open, lined each of the five floors. The boxy structure was so nondescript Malcolm would have missed it if not looking at it. “9901. This is the place.The Parker Pest Control Building.”
The detectives got out of the car and crossed the parking lot. The bright sun had taken the edge off the morning chill, but the air still had a bite. They moved to the lobby, checked the floor for Computer Science Arts, and took the elevator to the fifth floor.
A receptionist sat behind a gray desk, a phone cradled under her ear as she maneuvered through a series of calls. Her mousy brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, and her beige sweater-blouse barely covered the folds of her belly. She was as unforgettable as the building where she worked.
When she reached a stopping point, she glanced up at the officers. “Yes?”
Malcolm pulled out his badge. “Detective Malcolm Kier. This is my partner, Detective Garrison. We’d like to see Brian Humphrey.”