“Which is?” she asked.
“A loony bin on the far side of the county,” Pete muttered.
Mia sighed. “Is it just me, or does all of this seem too nicely wrapped up?”
“Very nicely,” Pete muttered. “No publicity, no real defense, no true answers. We wouldn’t even know any of this if you hadn’t suggested looking through old files.”
Mia shifted her weight on the hard floor. “I find it odd that Seth and his family failed to mention that Ashlynn Volk died the same way as Ruby Redbird. What are they all hiding?” And why did it hurt her that Seth was hiding something this big? He was wild, and it would be painful to put him in a cell, but if he killed Ruby Redbird, then he’d go to prison. “I don’t see Seth having killed his own mother.”
“Why not?” Pete asked.
She twirled a file folder on the dusty floor with one finger. “I don’t know. I’ve made him angry several times, and while he’s bossy and evasive, he hasn’t lost his temper once.”
Pete watched the spinning folder. “These kills are planned out and meticulous, if bloody. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “You’re right. No temper involved in any of the four killings.” She swallowed over her suddenly dry throat. “Even so, I don’t see that in Seth. Oh, he’s a planner, and I have no doubt he could get his hands bloody. But to harm women like this? I just don’t see it.”
Pete lifted his gaze to zero in on her. “You like the guy?”
“No.” Yes. Maybe. “I just don’t read him like a man who’d kill women.” Though there was no doubt he’d killed before, and she wasn’t entirely sure his activities had been limited to the military.
“The sheriff thought he was strong enough to have done all three killings thirteen years ago, and the kid did have a problem with both his mother and authority,” Pete said. “You need to keep an open mind here.”
“I’m aware of that,” she said, closing the file folder. “We need to visit Eddy at the asylum.” She leaned over. “Where’s the case file for his charging and trial?”
“There isn’t one here,” Pete said. “I only know about him from the notation in Seth’s file once it was closed. We need to get the court file from the courthouse tomorrow. I’ll take care of it.”
That was at least a decent place to start. Mia took out her phone and sent off a quick text. “I’ll have one of my few remaining friends in the DC FBI office do a deep dive and see if there are any similar crimes in the US going back the last twenty years.” She frowned and typed again. “Make that forty years. If Benjamin is a decent suspect, we should go back that far.”
Pete sighed. “I can’t believe we don’t have Ruby’s body. We need to find out if Ashlynn Volk and the other two women were buried here. Maybe we could exhume them and have a decent crime lab look for evidence.”
“That’s a good idea.”
Pete studied her. “Do you really think there’s a second serial killer associated with that Delaney?”
“I don’t know, and there’s nothing I can do about it until something happens. We went through all the records, and any hint of evidence we could find, and there truly was nothing but my gut instincts.” Right now, she had a current case to worry about. She rubbed dust off her chin. “I’d like to talk to Melissa Redbird. Where is she now?”
“She died of cancer three years ago. Ruby didn’t have any other family.” Pete closed the file. “This is quite the coincidence, the way Ashlynn Volk, the other two women, and now Ruby Redbird died.”
“There’s no such thing.” The answers Mia needed were lost with four murdered women, the town, and the Volk men. She had to get Seth to talk.
For now, she had to hurry home and get ready for the ball.
Chapter12
Mia took a deep breath, her arm through the sheriff’s as they entered the opulent ballroom. A row of blazing chandeliers hung from the ornate ceiling in an intricate pattern. Tables covered in white and black linen were scattered throughout, with some people sitting, while many people stood at higher tables or meandered, working the room. A dance floor spread out before a raised dais holding a full orchestra.
Pete tugged on his striped tie. “You look freakin’ amazing, Mia.”
“Thanks.” She tried not to grin at her old friend in the black suit. He’d slicked back his hair and had even shaved. “You look very dashing.”
“Thanks. It’s hard to believe we don’t get chow with the cost of these tickets.” He escorted her into the crowd.
She nodded. “Classy parties like this have little munchies instead.”
“That’s dumb.”
Yeah, it was. Diamonds and jewels sparkled throughout the room on women wearing sophisticated black sheaths. There were some blues and an occasional muted green. Nobody wore orange—except her. She straightened her shoulders. “Let’s find the Volk men.”
