A MATCH MADE IN MURDER (The Wedding Planner Mysteries Book 5) by Jeanine Spooner Read Free Book Online
Authors: Jeanine Spooner
cousin, you said?”
“In from New Zealand,” Sterling supplied then leaned in close. “It’s all the same. The necklace, the pose, the fact that she’s in the woods.”
“This girl close to you?” Harrison asked. He was familiar with Sterling’s history.
“Not at all. Just met her last night.”
“Then he’s getting senile and sloppy,” the lieutenant concluded.
“Take a closer look,” he suggested.
When Harrison did, kneeling beside Layla’s head so he could study her face, he got it. His gaze snapped up to Sterling.
“Looks just like your fiancée.” Harrison rose to his feet with a grunt then asked, “You have any idea the significance of that necklace?”
“All I know is that it should’ve been locked up in evidence.”
Harrison breathed heavily as though it went hand in hand with serious thinking.
“They archive,” he stated.
“What does that mean?”
“It means when a case goes cold—I mean stone cold for nearly a decade—the department moves the evidence into a storage facility off Route 12, our archives.”
“A commercial facility?” Sterling was shocked.
Harrison confirmed with a shamed frown.
“Where security is run by college kids who are probably stoned or asleep?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
Sterling snorted.
“This is unbelievable.”
“Or it narrows it down,” Harrison said, thinking out loud. “You’ve never faced the fact that this guy knows you. He’s in your life and has been for a good long while.”
“I’m a loner. No one’s in my life except for a handful of people.” He’d meant to dismiss Harrison’s logic, but he’d only confirmed it.
“And now you know he understands how our evidence room works, our process of archiving. That should narrow it down even more.”
Sterling took a deep breath.
“Who would be that close to me, but stupid enough to confuse Layla for Kitty?”
“Someone who never met Kitty? Someone who only met her once or a handful of times or only saw a photo of her?”
Sterling felt eyes on him and glanced over his shoulder. Kitty was staring, eavesdropping no doubt. So Sterling took Harrison by the shoulder and led him deeper into the forest.
“I had a break in yesterday at the house,” he confided.
“You call it in?”
Sterling shook his head and expected Harrison to rip him a new one. He didn’t.
“I came home and the front door was unlocked. Kitty and I always lock it, though we don’t do the best job of keeping the windows shut. Our kitchen window is a bit sticky whenever the weather warms up. Someone had forced it all the way up, which caused the glass to crack. I put two and two together. But nothing was missing in the house. Everything looked in place.”
“The killer was casing it, checking out the rooms, the floor plan.”
“I’d say dust the windowsill for prints, the door, hell dust the whole house.” He’d never ordered his lieutenant before. Harrison didn’t seem to appreciate the directive. “The only thing that doesn’t add up is the fact that Layla was sleeping on the couch. It’s a pull out bed. The killer would have to have known she wasn’t
“In from New Zealand,” Sterling supplied then leaned in close. “It’s all the same. The necklace, the pose, the fact that she’s in the woods.”
“This girl close to you?” Harrison asked. He was familiar with Sterling’s history.
“Not at all. Just met her last night.”
“Then he’s getting senile and sloppy,” the lieutenant concluded.
“Take a closer look,” he suggested.
When Harrison did, kneeling beside Layla’s head so he could study her face, he got it. His gaze snapped up to Sterling.
“Looks just like your fiancée.” Harrison rose to his feet with a grunt then asked, “You have any idea the significance of that necklace?”
“All I know is that it should’ve been locked up in evidence.”
Harrison breathed heavily as though it went hand in hand with serious thinking.
“They archive,” he stated.
“What does that mean?”
“It means when a case goes cold—I mean stone cold for nearly a decade—the department moves the evidence into a storage facility off Route 12, our archives.”
“A commercial facility?” Sterling was shocked.
Harrison confirmed with a shamed frown.
“Where security is run by college kids who are probably stoned or asleep?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
Sterling snorted.
“This is unbelievable.”
“Or it narrows it down,” Harrison said, thinking out loud. “You’ve never faced the fact that this guy knows you. He’s in your life and has been for a good long while.”
“I’m a loner. No one’s in my life except for a handful of people.” He’d meant to dismiss Harrison’s logic, but he’d only confirmed it.
“And now you know he understands how our evidence room works, our process of archiving. That should narrow it down even more.”
Sterling took a deep breath.
“Who would be that close to me, but stupid enough to confuse Layla for Kitty?”
“Someone who never met Kitty? Someone who only met her once or a handful of times or only saw a photo of her?”
Sterling felt eyes on him and glanced over his shoulder. Kitty was staring, eavesdropping no doubt. So Sterling took Harrison by the shoulder and led him deeper into the forest.
“I had a break in yesterday at the house,” he confided.
“You call it in?”
Sterling shook his head and expected Harrison to rip him a new one. He didn’t.
“I came home and the front door was unlocked. Kitty and I always lock it, though we don’t do the best job of keeping the windows shut. Our kitchen window is a bit sticky whenever the weather warms up. Someone had forced it all the way up, which caused the glass to crack. I put two and two together. But nothing was missing in the house. Everything looked in place.”
“The killer was casing it, checking out the rooms, the floor plan.”
“I’d say dust the windowsill for prints, the door, hell dust the whole house.” He’d never ordered his lieutenant before. Harrison didn’t seem to appreciate the directive. “The only thing that doesn’t add up is the fact that Layla was sleeping on the couch. It’s a pull out bed. The killer would have to have known she wasn’t