Catherine Nelson - Zoe Grey 02 - The Trouble with Theft by Catherine Nelson Read Free Book Online Page B

progress.
    I logged out of Facebook
and brought up dexknows.com. I did a reverse search of the Conrad address. In
addition to the Conrads, one other name came up: Ian Dawson. A quick property
search in county records told me Dawson was the owner of the property and that
he’d inherited it. I went back to Dex and searched his name, coming up with a
post office box and no phone number. I made a note and searched Megan Rice.
There was no Megan, but I found a Peter and Sonja, which I thought might have been
her parents. I scribbled their names down then went to the Fort Collins
Coloradoan website, searching back issues for information about the Conrad
murders. Despite what Bonnie Matheson had said about the paper having done
extensive coverage, I could find little more than what she’d already told me.
    Feeling a little like the
library stop had been a bust, I walked over to Dazbog Coffee (my favorite) and
got a perfectly blended chocolate-flavored coffee. I chatted briefly with the
girl behind the counter and one of the owners who’d been in doing paperwork,
then left. Two sips in, I didn’t feel the trip had been a waste of time at all.
    Back in the truck, I
motored over to the next address listed for Dillon. The house, another huge
place, was in a neighborhood near Fossil Creek High School, off of Ziegler. The
houses here are probably comparable to the houses in the country club area I’d
just been to, but the major difference was that the sidewalks here were full of
activity: bikers, skaters, parents, kids, dogs.
    I took a moment to add
the license plate and car information to my list, then I got out and walked to
the house I needed. The front yard was a bit small, but it was well kept and
the expansive flowerbeds were immaculate, blooming with a multitude of colors
and sizes.
    I climbed the steps to
the front porch and rang the bell. A moment later, a brunette woman in her
thirties peered out at me cautiously. She was well dressed and groomed, though
without the pomp Mrs. Burbank had. I could see two paintings on the wall of the
living room behind her that I guessed were expensive. I smiled and introduced
myself.
    “Do you know Danielle
Dillon?”
    She opened the screen
door and stepped out onto the porch with me, pulling the door closed behind
her. I got the impression she wasn’t in the habit of inviting strangers into
her house. I didn’t get the feeling she was hiding Dillon inside.
    “No, I don’t know
anyone by that name.”
    I showed her the
picture. “Recognize this woman?”
    She thought for a
moment. “I think she looks familiar, but I really can’t think where I would
have seen her.”
    “Can I ask your name?”
    “Linda McKinnon.”
    “Do you live here
alone?”
    “No, my husband Dave
lives here, too.”
    “Do you have any house
staff?”
    “Do you have some sort
of identification?”
    I gave her my card
then pulled the cheap badge out of my pocket. I didn’t blame her when she
didn’t appear impressed. I think the badge looks like it came from a costume
set at the dollar store, too.
    “You’re a bond agent?”
she asked.
    “That’s right. Feel
free to call the police and have them run my name.”
    “That’s okay. It’s
just people have to be so careful nowadays, what with everyone trying to scam
them. I’m sorry.”
    “Don’t be. More people
should be so careful.”
    “To answer your
question, we don’t have any house staff, but I do have a cleaning service that
comes once a week.”
    “Which service would
that be?”
    “Clean Sweep. It’s a
small, local business. I switched to it last year. I was using House and Home.”
    I know of Clean Sweep;
it’s Amy’s business.
    I thanked McKinnon for
her time, asked her to call if she thought of anything, then left.
    I drove to the next
address and parked in front of the biggest house I’d been to yet, in a
neighborhood south of Horsetooth between Taft and Shields. I made note of
visible license plates, including the two in the