There was also the matter of the work gloves. None had been found in Griffin’s home or his greenhouse, but a prosecutorwould simply argue he’d thrown them out and, if he had killed Dani and Cassidy as all the evidence supported, he likely had.
“Maybe it wasn’t the killer who tracked in the wood putty,” Noah argued. “Maybe it was someone who slapped the glamping tent together.”
“Griffin lied about a lot of things at first, but then he came clean.”
“As far as we know. He’s the only one left standing. His version is the only one we have.”
“Then why would he deny some things but not others? He admitted to kidnapping Dani and Cassidy but wouldn’t admit to following Cassidy last month. What difference would that make?”
“Josie, this guy is twisted in the head. We might never fully understand why he did all the awful things he did. I’m sure he’s got his delusional reasons. We don’t really need to know them so long as he goes to prison for a very long time.”
Noah was right. One of the most difficult parts of the job was knowing that sometimes, things simply didn’t make sense. The puzzle pieces didn’t always fit together. Still, she couldn’t let this go.
“The GPS on Griffin’s phone and car show him at Dani’s house once in June,” she said. “Cassidy told her friend someone was following her around.”
“We don’t know Cassidy’s exact words,” said Noah. “It’s possible she said she saw a guy hanging around outside her house and the friend took it differently, or embellished when we spoke with her.”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “I guess.”
The truth was that all the evidence did point to Griffin. He’d had prior relationships with the victims. Affairs that had ended with him being dumped and rejected. He’d admitted to following Dani to Denton and buying a luxury home for her which hethen used to try to entice Maxine. He’d admitted to being at the festival on Saturday and following Maxine and Haven, then coming back Sunday morning with his Crimson Bride flowers. He’d admitted to being in the tent. To leaving the flowers. He’d admitted to taking Dani and Cassidy. Records from his phone and the infotainment center in his car supported everything they’d theorized thus far, even if without admissions on his part.
Didn’t they?
There it was, that thing just out of the grasp of her consciousness. At least, she thought so. Was she really sensing it, or was her mind making it up to soothe her broken heart? To give her false hope? Focusing on the prospect that they’d all somehow missed something was so much easier than remembering the image of Turner, completely shattered, telling her she had his family’s blood on her hands.
She drifted off in her husband’s arms, wishing fervently for a miracle.
FIFTY-ONE
“You sure about this?”
Josie felt Gretchen’s stare like the sun beating down on her. A thin sheen of sweat covered her face even though the vents in Gretchen’s SUV had been blasting cold air at her for the past fifteen minutes. Wrapping her fingers around the handle of the passenger’s side door, she took another look at Dani Schwarber’s house. “I’m sure,” she said.
“I think I should come with you.”
“No.” Josie shook her head. “I need to talk to him alone.”
Gretchen’s warm palm closed over Josie’s forearm. “He’s in bad shape, Josie. I know he’s not as bad a guy as we thought but right now, he’s erratic. Unpredictable.”
Swiveling her head to meet Gretchen’s eyes, Josie said, “He won’t hurt me, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Gretchen gave Josie’s arm a squeeze before letting go. “Fine. I’ll be here if you need me.”
Josie pulled at the handle. A click sounded as the door disengaged. Pausing, she said, “Do you think I’m crazy?”
Gretchen gripped the steering wheel with both hands, staring straight ahead.
A tiny knot of panic formed in Josie’s gut. “Gretchen.”
“Not crazy, just…be careful with him. Giving him false hope could be even more devastating than what he’s already dealing with.”
Gretchen was right but it only made her heart pound harder and faster. Maybe she was being selfish. Was she pursuing Griffin’s crazy second-person theory because of what she’d found that morning, no matter how thin it was, or because she was selfish and couldn’t bear the prospect of spending the rest of her life feeling responsible for Dani and Cassidy’s deaths?
Selfish or not, she had to try.
Throwing open the door before she lost her nerve, she got out. In a matter of seconds she was at the front door, peering through the screen and calling out Turner’s name. There was no answer but the door was open so she went inside. It was exactly as it had been a few days ago except the smell of spoiled food didn’t linger so heavily and Cassidy’s blood had been successfully scrubbed from the living room carpet.
“Turner?”
