She stated to officers that she turned in at around ten that night, and although her room overlooked the dock, she hadn’t seen McGuinness or Tripp out there when she went to bed, as her blackout curtains had been drawn. Later, when officers asked her what time she woke up, she said that she rose early, at quarter after five, when the sunrise came through the window.
But if her curtains had been drawn, the sun shouldn’t have woken her up.
His pulse raced as he scanned the transcripts again. Scarlett had lied. But why? Had she seen something that night that scared her into staying silent? Something that scared her more than she cared about getting justice for her boyfriend?
He looked through the rest of the documents to see if she had provided any more statements to the police. There were none. Every other attempt to speak with her was barred by her attorney, who stated that she did not have to cooperate with the police and had already given them an accurate and complete account of what had happened.
Quickly, he stood up from his desk, grabbed the transcript, and headed to Kelsi’s office. When he got to the door, he placed his hand on the knob, about to barge in unannounced before thinking better of it. He knocked instead, waiting to hear her muffled, “Come in!”
Her cheerful expression turned apprehensive when she noticed it was him at her door. Likely she had been expecting Cat, he assumed.
Undeterred by her reluctant welcome, he walked to her desk and leaned against the edge beside her, his left hip nearly brushing her left arm. He handed her the transcript, and she looked it over briefly without a word.
Finally, she asked, “What am I supposed to be looking at?”
He leaned over her and, using his index finger, drew her attention to the first statement Scarlett gave. “This is the only interview done with Scarlett for the entirety of the investigation. This first answer she gives to detectives, she says that she didn’t notice anything that night because her blackout curtains were thick and closed, right?” He dragged his finger down to the second statement that had stuck out, the contradictory one. “And here—”
“She said the sun came in through the window. But the sun wouldn’t come in if the curtains were closed,” she cut him off excitedly. “It’s thin, and could be explained away, but if you’re right, she lied to the police.” Kelsi looked back down at the paper, surveying the rest of it quickly before looking up at him. “You think she saw something that night, don’t you?”
“I do. At least, I think it would be worth a conversation with her, don’t you?”
Kelsi nodded eagerly and pulled out her agenda, flipping to the current month. Chewing her thumbnail, she read over the schedule for that week. Dylan wasn’t entirely sure why she needed to check, seeing as this was the only case they had to work on, but he remained quiet.
“We can go out to see her one morning when we both don’t have a docket. Her current address is still in the file, and she lives in Richmond, so it’ll be a two-hour drive one way.”
He smiled at how excited she was by his find. “Absolutely. Should we give her a heads-up that we’re coming?”
Her smile was mischievous. “No, I think we should catch her off guard. Maybe without her lawyer around.”
His own grin morphed into a smirk. He liked her fire.
“Oh, I found something too.” She shuffled her papers around on her desk before slapping his copy of the transcript. “Well, not reallyfoundsomething, but here.”
She held up a sheet in front of his face, and his eyes strained to focus on the words. It was a photocopy of an invoice for the repair work done on the boat, dated two days after the drowning.
“It’s circumstantial at best, Kelsi. Proving that he got the repair work done would make the jury wonder why it was needed, but it doesn’t prove anything definitively.”
She rolled her eyes at him, her default whenever she was annoyed or thought he was being an idiot. He hid his grin behind his hand.
“I am well aware of that, Dylan. Thank you for pointing out a problem a first-year law student could see. But no, what I wanted you to see is that the repairs were done by Mr. Graves.” She looked at him expectantly still.
He racked his brain trying to determine why the person who had done the work was significant and couldn’t come up with anything. Mr. Graves was a strange man, but he didn’t know why that would be important.
Seeing that Dylan wasn’t following, she explained. “He’s the most paranoid man I’ve ever met. Do you think he would do body work, or any work, for a man like McGuinness without taking careful photos of the boat before and after?”
Finally, he reached the conclusion she already had. “You think he has pictures of the boat’s damage.”
“Bingo. And that’s not all.” She slid another sheet of paper to him.
It was a printout of a Facebook post. The name attached to it was McGuinness’s, and the date was the day of the accident, the Fourth of July. All of his friends there that weekend, including Tripp, posed in front of the boat.
Kelsi tapped the photo on top of the hull. “No damage. So, what happened between this picture and when the boat was brought to the shop?”
Dylan’s grin unfurled slowly across his face as he met Kelsi’s self-satisfied eyes. “Whatever it was, we’re gonna find out.”
CHAPTER 12
Dylan
