The thing with Zara was never about Zara at all. Maybe it was a little bit, but mostly it was about getting little Penny out of harm’s way. Her own father had tried to kill her. Had left his indelible mark on her precious skin. It wasn’t fair that he’d been replaced by another, more unpredictable predator in Dustin Emmer.
Gretchen must have had the same thoughts. She stared up at Turner, her face pinched, like she was trying to solve an unsolvable puzzle.
But they were losing time. The visit was over. Zara and Penny were safe, and Turner had recovered from his panic attack. There was still so much to do.
“Turner,” Josie said. “We didn’t get a chance to ask you earlier, but do you remember Griffin Holt? Ever heard his name?”
Gretchen pulled up Griffin’s driver’s license photo and showed it to Turner. “He looks familiar but no, I don’t remember him. Never heard of him before.”
Josie could see Turner’s mind working as he stared at the photo. Griffin Holt might have his wife and daughter. Right now. At this moment. If they were still alive. Griffin Holt might have been the one who hurt Cassidy. Put that cut on her cheek. He knew as well as they did that the wheels of justice turned slowly. If they wanted to make sure Holt paid for whatever crimes he’d committed, then they had to do things right. That meant they couldn’t make any mistakes. There would be no rushing into his house, demanding to know whether he had them. No breaking into his house to look for them. Connections had to be made first. They needed probable cause for search warrants.
Turner yanked at his beard again. Josie could practically see his thoughts in a bubble over his head. Every minute they spent trying to stay within the confines of the law was another minute his family might be suffering at Griffin Holt’s hands. Another minute that could be the difference between life and death.
Josie touched his upper arm. “Turner.”
It took a few pokes with her finger before he looked down at her.
“We’re working on it.”
He swallowed, drumming his fingers against his outer thigh.
“Do not go over there. Do not get involved,” Josie said sternly. Of all her colleagues, Turner was the most impulsive. The least likely to care about the impact of his actions, and now that his world was on the line, she wasn’t sure she trusted him to stay away from Griffin Holt.
Turner said, “Do I seem like the kind of guy who gives a shit about his career when his wife and kid are on the line?”
“No,” Gretchen piped up. “But you seem like the kind of guy who would care about not fucking up the case against theirabductor when we finally nail him. You go over there and start a fight, and you could jeopardize the entire thing. This asshole could go free and never pay for what he’s done.”
His eye tic was back. “Fine, but you need to bring this guy in and get a search warrant for his house yesterday.”
FORTY-THREE
Two hours later, Josie stood in the CCTV room adjacent to the interrogation room where Griffin Holt now waited. After Edward Greathouse made a positive ID from the photo lineup, Noah and the Chief had wasted no time in tracking Holt down at the nearest Quarmark office and asking him to come to the stationhouse with them to answer questions. They were letting him sweat it out in the tiny space alone while they got search warrants for the contents of his phone and the GPS history in his car. Unfortunately, at this point, they didn’t have any evidence tying Griffin to Dani or Cassidy, which meant they couldn’t get a warrant to search his house. Right now, he was here because of his relationship with Maxine, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t bring up Dani and Cassidy.
A warm hand settled on Josie’s lower back. She looked up to see Noah beside her, holding out a Komorrah’s cup. “He didn’t deny knowing Maxine.”
Josie took the latte and sipped. “He must know that he wouldn’t be here if we didn’t have some proof that he knew her. Did you confront him about the bed and breakfast yet?”
“No. Just got him to confirm some stuff we’d already figured out. Where and when they met: her office, last March. He hadlunch with her at the café near her building a couple of times when he saw her there alone. They fell in love. Their relationship became intimate last July. The affair lasted until this March when she broke up with him.”
She nodded and slugged down the rest of her drink as quickly as possible. Not that she needed more caffeine. Her entire body was already buzzing with anxiety and anticipation at the thought that the man in the next room could give them the answers they needed. A voice in the back of her mind, barely audible beneath her low-level adrenaline rush, wondered if Griffin Holt could give Turner his world back, but Josie dared not hope. Tossing the empty cup into the trash bin, she turned to her husband. “Let’s go.”
When they entered the interrogation room, Griffin stood abruptly, wiping his palms on his pressed gray slacks. In person and not on the CCTV camera, Josie could see that he was handsome but in a bland, non-threatening sort of way. Strong jawline, wavy hair just starting to gray at the temples, and light brown eyes. The top two buttons of his white dress shirt were undone, revealing tan skin and a few dark chest hairs. The smile he gave them was pleading and tentative. It said,Surely, officers, there’s been some kind of mistake.
Before he even opened his mouth, Josie had no doubt that he was an excellent salesman. She didn’t know if pharmaceutical reps worked on commission, but she was willing to bet Griffin Holt sold a lot of drugs. He most definitely didn’t look like a man who’d spent his whole adult life single because of some unhealthy obsession with “protecting” his little sister. He also didn’t look like a man who would be so devastated when said sister got married and started having children that he would brutally kill or kidnap a mother and her daughter. She could imagine women easily being drawn in by him. Lulled into asense of safety and security until that unhinged part of himself started to make itself known.
“Mr. Holt,” Noah greeted him. “We spoke earlier. This is my colleague, Detective Josie Quinn.”
“I’d say it was nice to meet you,” Griffin said, the smile still pasted on his lips. “But under the circumstances, I’m not sure that’s true.”
When Josie didn’t respond, he turned back to Noah. “I assume you’ve got more questions if you’ve brought your colleague. How can I help?”
Clearly, he was used to commanding a room, controlling the direction and tempo of meetings.
“We’d like to speak with you some more about Maxine,” said Noah.
As if he had invited them, Griffin waved at the two empty chairs. “Please, sit.”
Then he waited until they were both seated to lower himself into his own chair.
