Turner winked at her. “I’ll let the LT know he needs to up his flower game.”
“Tell him to get the peonies. My wife loves them,” Conlen said. “I’m pretty sure that’s what’s in the tent.”
“You’re wrong,” Dougherty said. “Who the hell leaves peonies at the scene of a?—”
Josie cut him off abruptly. “Have you called the ERT? Dr. Feist?”
The Evidence Response Team would need to process the scene before anyone else set foot inside the tent. Then their medical examiner, Dr. Anya Feist, would examine the bodies before they were taken to the morgue for autopsy.
“Of course,” Conlen replied.
Josie was still thinking about the flowers. She was no expert—unless it came to Pennsylvania wildflowers—but as far as she knew, red symbolized love.
Mother and daughter. In their beds. Red flowers, a seeming expression of love, scattered inside and left on their bodies. She suddenly felt queasy and not from the heat or the slight smell of decomposition.
Not wanting to get back into a debate over exactly what type of flowers they were dealing with, she changed topics. “Where are Maxine and Haven Barnes from?”
“Denton,” Conlen answered.
Turner watched her before echoing her thoughts. “Why spend money on a rental for the week when you could just drive back and forth to the festival?”
Had it been a matter of convenience? A way of avoiding hours of traffic each day and the cost of parking? Had they wanted to make a mother–daughter retreat out of it? Josie tucked the questions away for later. They had more immediate concerns.
“Who found them?”
Conlen pointed toward another Denton PD cruiser parked across the road in front of a tent markedContentment. The door to the back seat was open. Inside sat a teenage boy. Even from where she stood, Josie could see that his face was a disturbing shade of green.
“The air conditioning is on in the car,” Conlen said. “Kid was sick.”
It was then that Josie noticed the faint scent of vomit beneath the decomp. Sure enough, there was a pile of it in the grass near the entrance to theJubilationtent.
“What’s his story?” Turner asked.
Conlen took a notebook out of the front pocket of his uniform shirt. “His name is Jonathan Carlos Alvarado. Denton resident. He was at the festival with his friends last night. He met Haven Barnes at the axe-throwing booth. They were supposed to hang out today. She never showed up. He came to check on her and…well, here we are.”
“He was the one who called 911,” Dougherty added. “He’s seventeen. His mom came from work so he could give a statement. He checks out. Gave us his phone. Mom signed a consent form for us to look through it. She’s trying to find him a bottle of water right now before she takes him home.”
Turner’s phone was in his hand, thumb scrolling at its usual steady pace. He got bored easily. Josie didn’t know what kept him glued to the screen. Didn’t care. Admittedly, she frequently had the urge to smack the damn thing out of his hand. He spent more time on it than Wren spent on hers. Which made her wonder how his own daughter, Cassidy, had been unable to reach him the day she showed up at the stationhouse.
“You’re staring,” Turner said without looking up.
Josie put a hand on her hip. “Would it kill you to pay attention for more than five minutes?”
Conlen started to laugh but quickly stifled it with a cough when Turner shot him a dirty look.
“Here you go, Jonathan.”
Any response from Turner was cut off by Jonathan Alvarado’s mother striding toward her son, water bottle in hand. The bow of her mauve silk-tie blouse fluttered as she moved.Given her tight black pencil skirt and four-inch heels, her pace was impressive. Like her son, she had dark hair. It was pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck. Several strands had come loose, sticking to her cheeks. She uncapped the bottle and handed it to him.
“Kid says Haven was with her mother when they met at axe-throwing. Afterward, the mother went to the concert area. One of the bands playing was Anthem Arcade. She wanted to see them. Daughter didn’t. Jonathan and Haven walked around and met back up with the mom at ten near the axe-throwing place.”
“Did he walk them back here?” asked Josie.
“No, he left. Mom confirms he was home by 11:15p.m. He was supposed to meet back up with Haven today at noon at the west entrance. They were going to hang out for a few hours.”
Josie checked her phone. The time was 3:07p.m.
“Kid waited a half hour. Texted her. Kept texting her. Called her a few times. Got worried and decided to check the tent. He went inside. Says they were in their beds. Didn’t respond to him calling their names. He also said there were a lot of flies in there when he went in.”
