“True. I just hope that Campbell—er, Detective Sawyer—can get to the bottom of what happened to that young woman…” Stefanie uttered, feeling regret over the life that had ended before its time.
“I’m sure he will,” Bella said with confidence.
“Anyway, I’m heading home now. Not in the mood to stick around.”
“I understand.” Bella nodded her head. “Wish I wasn’t obligated to do so, but someone needs to bring others up to date on what happened.” She hugged her. “I’ll call you.”
“All right.” Stefanie flashed her a tiny smile and walked off contemplatively.
* * *
SHE LEFT THEpark in a blue Subaru Legacy sedan and drove down Hepmore Avenue for a couple of miles before turning left on Draker Drive. All the while, Stefanie couldn’t get the image of the dead woman out of her mind.
What had happened to her? Could she have really been so strung out on drugs or whatever that she removed her own clothes and died? Or had her death been caused by someone else who had no qualms about having her discovered that way?
Maybe the answers would be forthcoming in short order with Campbell Sawyer on the case.
When she reached Meriotte Road, Stefanie swung left and was soon pulling up to her two-story, two-bedroom rented Craftsman home on a cul-de-sac that sat in front of a wooded area. She’d fallen in love with the place the moment she checked it out, feeling it suited her and reminded her of the house they’d had in San Antonio.
Stefanie stepped inside and onto white oak engineered hardwood flooring. She took a sweeping glance at the open-concept design, with vaulted ceilings and casement windows that offered an abundance of natural light. The ample living room had a stone fireplace and mid-century modern furniture with a separate, similarly furnished dining room. The amazing kitchen included a cozy breakfast nook, an island and quartz countertops. Though she loved making meals on the stainless steel gas cooktop and in the smart convection wall oven, she didn’t do it often enough when cooking only for herself these days.
Her attention turned to the wooden U-shaped staircase as her Selkirk Rex cat, Curlie—with her dense cream, black and lavender coat of long hair—came boundingdown the stairs. Stefanie knelt to greet her, and the cat leaped into her arms, clearly overjoyed to see her.
Or maybe it was her subtle way of saying she was hungry.
Stefanie decided it was a combination of the two, and chuckled. “Love you, too, Curlie.” She petted her head and along the cat’s back before setting her down. “Let’s feed you,” she said, noting that Curlie had already dashed off into the kitchen.
After putting high-protein wet cat food in a bowl and setting it on the floor, Stefanie watched Curlie devour it while she grabbed a bottle of water out of the black refrigerator, opened it and drank a generous amount.
Her thoughts turned again to the dead woman at the park and what may have been behind it—before she found herself pulling the flyer out of her pocket that she had never gotten around to discarding in the trash. Instead of doing so now, she stared at the brief info on the Braison Family. It seemed welcoming enough. And breathed life in its messaging instead of death. Maybe she would check it out sometime.
Stefanie took the flyer with her as she headed up the stairs to wash a load of clothes and make plans for the rest of her day, which had been altered unexpectedly by heartbreak.
* * *
CAMPBELL WAS, QUITE FRANKLY, left with more questions than answers after parting ways with the lovely Stefanie Nguyen. The celebratory mood of Founder’s Day had dampened, for him at least, with the strange death of the as-yet-unnamed young woman. What circumstances had led to her ending up naked and dead in Reston HillsPark? How long had she been deceased when her body was found? If her death wasn’t self-inflicted, who had killed her? And did it have anything to do with the Braison Family cult?
Knowing he would need to exercise a little patience, Campbell took a proverbial chill pill as he drove away from the park. He would need to wait on the autopsy report to learn the exact cause of the woman’s death, and pair that with any forensic evidence that might come from the Crime Scene Investigation Unit that had been dispatched to the scene and could offer some useful findings in the case.
In the meantime, Campbell turned his thoughts to the one who’d discovered the corpse. All he really knew at the moment about Stefanie was that she was relatively new in town—which explained how he’d managed to miss running into her at some point, as he would definitely have remembered if he had seen her before—and originally from San Antonio.
So how did she end up in Reston Hills? Was she there alone? He hadn’t seen a ring on her finger. That didn’t mean she wasn’t hitched. Or without a romantic partner. Any local who was single, available and age compatible would be lucky to have her, if he were basing it on looks alone.
But even beyond that, from what little exchange they’d had, she seemed pretty cool under fire after seeing the dead woman on the trail. Stefanie had even expressed regret in not being able to prevent what had happened, as if she would ever have been able to do so.
It did make him even more curious about her. What was her occupation? He wondered if she could have beena psychologist or counselor, experienced in working with people in trouble. Or did her compassion just come naturally?
Maybe I’ll get to ask her these things sometime—and more, Campbell told himself, more than willing to open up about himself in return should the opportunity present itself.
He pulled into the parking lot of the Reston Hills Police Department on Fourteenth Street. When he stepped inside the building, Campbell wasn’t at all surprised to see that it was short-staffed, with much of the personnel out in the field. Or taking the day off.
That wasn’t the case with Gloria Schecter, chief of police, who was in her office, busy on her laptop. She’d been around since his father was on the force, working her way through the ranks to her present position. She noticed him through the open blinds on her window, acknowledging him routinely with a nod before continuing what she was doing.
Campbell sat on a mid-back swivel chair at a wooden desk in his low-walled cubicle, where he did paperwork on his last investigation of a burglary ring. Juvenile offenders had targeted several local businesses before they were finally apprehended. Another case solved, but whether the perps could learn a lesson from this remained to be seen.
“Hey,” Campbell heard a voice say.
He looked up at Detective Georgina Alvarez, who was in her forties, tall and slim, with dark blond hair in a pixie cut.
