“She grows a couple of varieties but imports most of them. Then she performs rituals involving the moon, certain stones, and so on, before packaging the tea in jars or smaller pouches. She started by selling them at farmer’s markets and then branched out online, now including a subscription service that has become quite lucrative,” Laurel said evenly.
Huck’s eyebrows rose. “Do you believe in all of that? The moon and stones and such?”
“No, but a lot of people do,” Laurel said.
“Didyouenlarge the business with the Internet and subscription service?” he asked.
“We both did,” Laurel said. She might’ve done most of the heavy lifting, but her mom did all the work preparing the teas.
“Does your other uncle work with the tea?” Huck asked.
“No. Blake and Betty grow pumpkins, Christmas trees, and squash. They also have a large apple orchard as well as several acres dedicated to cattle. Blake is a farmer,” she said, her heart warming. “They’re good people.”
“I’m sure,” Huck murmured. “Tell me more about Carl.”
She kept herself from sighing, knowing this was business. “Carl doesn’t have pets and is methodical and organized at his home. His furnishings are sparse but well maintained.” She shook her head. “I don’t see him as a psychopath, but I’m family, so too close to make that determination.” The last fact was difficult to admit, but it was the truth. She cleared her throat. “Carl sustained a facial and head injury when he was in his early twenties, and that changed him, according to my mom.”
“Can’t a head injury lead to psychosis?” Huck asked, driving through a wooden archway toward a small town center.
“Yes,” Laurel admitted. She looked around at what appeared to be a town square. “Does this suburb of Genesis Valley have a name?”
“No. It’s unincorporated county land,” Huck said.
Laurel turned to him. “If this is county land, why did the Genesis Valley sheriff conduct the notification to Lisa Scotford’s family? This is out of his jurisdiction.”
Huck’s eyebrows rose. “The different authorities help each other out in this neck of the woods, so it’s not unheard of for him to come here in an official capacity. Plus, he did say he lived in the area and knew the family from church.”
Laurel studied the small businesses around the center of the area, including a diner, small convenience store, fish and tackle store, a coffee place, and several others. “This is quaint.”
Huck grunted in response, driving out of the main area and several miles down a just-plowed road. He took another turn into a residential section and drove more miles, finally parking in front of a three-story wooden apartment building surrounded by other apartment complexes. A creek ran behind the buildings, small enough to already be frozen over. “Lisa’s apartment was on the second floor. Let’s check it out.”
Laurel pulled on the borrowed mittens from her mother, and her fingers instantly warmed from the perfect knit. She jumped out of the truck, looking around at the various Christmas decorations on each balcony. Everything from shiny lights to plastic Santas to sparkling presents and poinsettias. “What’s the demographic here?”
Huck led the way toward the nearest outside stairwell. “Younger couples and kids attending Genesis Community College, mostly. If you keep heading east on that road, you’ll end up at the college. Swing west, and you’ll arrive back in Genesis Valley.”
She connected the dots in her head. “Was Lisa a student?” She hadn’t seen that in the case file.
“No. I’ve put in a request for her tax information. Right now, I don’t know where she worked, if she did.” Huck pulled open a heavy-looking metal door and revealed a hallway lined with light blue carpet. “Her apartment is number fourteen.”
Laurel stepped inside first and walked down the wide hallway to Lisa’s door, which had been sealed by the county police.
Huck drew a pocket knife out of his jacket and cut the seal. Then he opened the door, and for the first time, walked in front of Laurel rather than waiting for her to enter.
She paused. The man was usually a perfect gentleman, even in business situations. Oh. He thought there might be a threat inside, and to be safe, he’d entered first. Despite the sealed door, he had morphed into protector mode. Perhaps that was his natural domain. The notion intrigued her . . . and quickened her breath. Apparently her body found his protectiveness sexy, which meant her mind did as well.
Huck cleared the small apartment quickly, his hand resting on his weapon. “There’s still fingerprinting dust on some of the tabletops.”
Laurel walked inside and paused, taking in the entire room to get a feel for the victim. She’d liked bright colors. The sofa was an older denim one, probably a hand-me-down or garage sale find. Fluorescent-pink and electric-yellow pillows brightened the blue material. A dingy, brown recliner next to the sofa had been spruced up with a neon-yellow blanket in a classic stockinette stitch design.
To the left lay a small kitchen with hot-pink baking canisters on the counter. The table had been painted a deep blue, as had the four chairs. A treadmill stood near the balcony, which held several outdoor Santa figurines, one with a surfboard over his shoulder.
The woman had been young and lively.
Laurel exhaled and kept her brain engaged by checking out the tiny, spotlessly clean bathroom before going into the bedroom. The room was more monochromatic and peaceful than the other areas, with a light pink bedspread, white pillowcases, and a painted white bookshelf over by the window. Many of the shelves displayed pictures and figurines, but one held a series of books—mostly fantasy and young adult paranormal books.
Her jewelry box held mostly silver and moonstones. A quick check of the bedside table revealed lip gloss, an open box of condoms, and a half-full bottle of KY Jelly.
“Got it,” Huck called from the other room.
