Speak No Evil_ A Novel - Allison Brennan [77]
Carina stared at Nick. She couldn’t remember him sounding so impassioned. His blue eyes had darkened, his feelings on the surface instead of buried deep inside.
“Do you have regrets from the Butcher investigation?” she asked quietly.
He drew in a breath. “Many. But I don’t know if it’s from playing Monday-morning quarterback or because I really made the wrong decision. All we can do is use the information we have coupled with our experience and make a decision. Everything comes down to choices. I made decisions based on what was best for my county and my people. They were right then. The only time I made the wrong choice—” He stopped.
Nick had replayed the entire Butcher investigation over and over in his mind, from the beginning thirteen years ago when he’d first met Miranda Moore, the only survivor of the Butcher, who ran miles through treacherous terrain only to almost die when she jumped into the Gallatin River to escape her attacker.
That case had still been active when he became sheriff nine years later.
“Nick?” Carina asked quietly.
“I made the wrong decision once. Almost got me killed.” He didn’t want to tell her about it, not now. Maybe not ever. It was one of the few things he honestly regretted in his life, and showing his weakness to a woman he admired and respected made him uncomfortable.
He’d learned from his mistake.
“Where to now?” he asked, changing the focus back to the current investigation. “The Sand Shack?”
“We need to trace Jodi’s steps from when she and Abby left the Shack last night until they came home.” She pulled out her notepad. “The manager, Kyle Burns, had classes all morning. He should be there by now.”
She started the engine but before she could drive away, Jim Gage ran up to her car. She rolled down the window. “What?”
“Two preliminary findings. The first: Abby and Jodi were drugged. There are trace narcotics in the two-liter soda bottles, the orange juice, and an opened bottle of wine.”
“He was in their apartment,” she said flatly.
“We’re dusting the entire place, including everything in the refrigerator. I have my assistant taking blood from Abby to confirm that she was also drugged. They were drinking rum and Coke last night. The alcohol coupled with the narcotics would have knocked them both out.”
“Which is why she didn’t wake up until late this morning.”
Gage nodded. “And we found something else. A small hole in the kitchen cabinet.”
“Why is that important?”
“Because there was also a small motion-activated webcam attached. It runs on a battery. I’ve bagged it for Patrick. I don’t know enough about the electronics to tell you the range, but I’m sending my assistant downtown to get it analyzed ASAP.”
“Thanks, Jim.”
“He was watching them,” Nick said.
“Why the kitchen?” Carina asked. “Why not the bedrooms?”
“Because he wanted to know when they were drugged,” Nick said. “So he could come in and kidnap Jodi without commotion.”
“Why Jodi?” Jim asked. “Why not Abby? Or both of them?”
“Like Angie, Jodi slept with my brother,” Nick said quietly.
“Becca had no relationship with Steve,” Carina said.
“Coincidence?”
They looked at each other and Carina started the car. “It warrants a conversation with him. Maybe there’s something else going on here.”
They found Steve at his apartment drinking iced coffee on his deck with Ava.
“Jodi is missing,” Nick told Steve.
Ava exclaimed, “Oh my God. It’s not the same guy, right?”
“We don’t know for sure what happened,” Carina said cautiously, “but I need to ask you, Mr. Thomas, where you were from four p.m. Wednesday afternoon until now.”
“You want me to recount the last nearly forty-eight hours?”
“Yes, sir,” said Carina.
Steve faced Nick. “So you’re on staff with the San Diego Police Department now?”
“Please answer the question, Steve,” Nick said.
“I don’t have to. Isn’t that what you told me? Get a lawyer to protect