"He's going to be my father-in-law," Nevvie said, numbness already creeping in.
The detective let it go at that. "I need to warn you, ma'am. Her injuries are pretty...traumatic. Especially to her face. They haven't performed the autopsy yet, but the coroner suspects she suffered a fractured skull."
"My husband's a writer," Nevvie said. "I've helped him do a lot of crime research. You found DNA under her nails, didn't you?"
"Yes, ma'am. She put up a fight." He looked at Andrew. "Were you familiar with the victim?" he asked. "Maybe it'd be better if you were the one to-"
"I want to see her," Nevvie insisted. "I'll do it."
The coroner entered the room, went through some forms with her, and then led them back to a viewing room. Inside, on a gurney, lay a body covered by a sheet. Nevvie steeled herself when the coroner pulled the sheet back, down to her neck. Andrew rested his hands on Nevvie's shoulders.
"Steady, love," he whispered in her ear. "Lean on me if you must."
Nevvie closed her eyes and swallowed. She opened them, looked, then closed them again. The brief view was more than enough. "That's Emily," she whispered.
"You're certain, ma'am?" Detective Platt asked.
Nevvie forced her eyes open again for a moment. Barely recognizable, her hair color and a small mole on her right cheek were all Nevvie could focus on. The rest of her features, her nose, her mouth, had all been viciously smashed and distorted. She closed her eyes again, the sight permanently seared into her brain. Someone with brute strength and a lot of anger had done that.
"Yes, I'm certain it's Emily," she whispered, the sick feeling in her gut growing. Sarah's warning to her to trust her instincts came screaming into her brain. "And I have a feeling I might know who did it."
The more that Detective Platt discounted her theory, the sillier Nevvie felt. "No offense, Mrs. Paulson, but unless we recover physical evidence, such as the DNA tests matching him, tying your ex to the crime, it's doubtful it was him. Florida might have his DNA on file, but we're going to have a hard time getting that data anytime soon. They'll be overwhelmed down there because of the storm. Did he even know your former sister-in-law?"
Nevvie shook her head as she blew her nose. "No." The tears had surprised her. They were more for the shock of the events and the grief her family would suffer than her own feelings on the matter.
"Did he even know of her?" the detective asked.
"Probably not," Nevvie reluctantly allowed. "I guess I don't see how he could have. I just know he nearly beat me to death twice, along with the stabbing. And it certainly seems like an odd coincidence that he's on the run and now something like this happens to our family." And my sort-of-psychic friend, Sarah, has a ghost living in her house and told me to trust my instincts.
Not that she could say it, but the certainty sitting rock hard in the bottom of her gut wouldn't let go of it no matter how rational the detective's arguments.
The detective kept his voice gentle. "I know this is very upsetting for you and your family. It was a violent crime. I promise we'll do our best to catch whoever did this and put them away. I'm not trying to discount your opinion, but you've given me no reason to suspect it is this Alex LaRogue fellow. However, I promise you, we will contact Florida to see if they have any DNA records on him to eliminate him as a suspect. We will also need to get fingerprints from anyone who's been in the house recently, to rule them out. Then we'll go from there. We did lift quite a few prints, and we can run them to include or eliminate your ex as well. Unfortunately, we don't know how many of the prints we'll find were left over from the open house. Her attacker could have been any one of the people who toured the house yesterday, for all we know. It wouldn't be the first time an open house was used to case a future crime scene."
Nevvie nodded. "I'm sorry. You're right. I'm probably being silly." She didn't really believe that in her heart or her gut, but it seemed the right thing to say.
"No, not silly," he insisted. "In your shoes, I would want the authorities to know everything, too. We appreciate you giving us any information that might be of use. Our job is to sort through the evidence. And we will follow up on what you told us, but I don't want you to worry about it needlessly, either. Have either of you been inside her house?"
Nevvie shook her head. "I've never been there."
"I have," Andrew said. "I helped Danny and Elle move their things the other day."
He nodded. "Do you mind giving us your fingerprints?"
"Not at all. Not if it'll help catch the monster who did that to her."
"What was her relationship with her ex-husband?"
Nevvie shook her head. "There wasn't one. He left her and they got divorced. He gave her the house and everything."
"Why was that?"
She sensed he was angling to see if there was still any way Clay could be behind the brutality. "My brother-in-law is a good man. There's no way I'll ever believe he had anything to do with her murder. She could have made any number of enemies. She was a spiteful, self-righteous prig who looked down her nose at everyone. She was going to sell the house to give the money to that church she joined. You want a suspect, look at them. Maybe someone got a little greedy."
The detective jotted it down. "Do you know what church?"
She shook her head. "Ask Elle. She said she went with her one time, and it was one time too many for her liking."
"That's her daughter?"
"Yes. Danielle."
He studied his notes and frowned. "Daniel or Danielle?"
"Both. They're twins."
"Ah." He made another notation.
After Andrew was fingerprinted and the detective asked a few more questions, they were allowed to leave. Nevvie handed Andrew her keys for him to drive, and in silence they returned to the house.
They found everyone gathered in the living room, Karen and April holding on to Peggy, and Clay on the sofa between the twins.
Everyone looked at Nevvie when she stepped through the front door. She hated the hopeful look in the twins' and Peggy's eyes and wished she didn't have to be the bearer of bad news.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Peggy closed her eyes and softly cried. Nevvie set her purse down while Andrew went to Peggy and held her.
The twins looked shell-shocked. April and Karen both cried, but Nevvie could tell they were more upset for their mother than for themselves. April and Karen, the two youngest sisters, had always been closer to Tom than to Emily. Cheryl and Katie had been closer to Emily, the eldest of all the siblings.
Until Emily's unapologetic stunt that got her shunned from the family.
"Where's Laurie and the boys?" Nevvie asked.
Clay was apparently the only one who could think. "Laurie's in their room with them. She's helping them make a fort. We didn't want them in here while the police were here."
Nevvie nodded. She handed the detective's card to Clay. "He wants to talk to everyone," she softly said. "And they want to get fingerprints from anyone who's been in the house recently. They already took Dad's while we were there."
"Thanks." He stared at the card for a moment, as if unsure what to do with it. Eventually, he let his hand fall to his lap. "We haven't called Tommy yet. One of Em's neighbors called April and Karen, but we haven't called Cheryl or Katie yet."
"I'll do it," Nevvie volunteered. She mentally swore. "I'll try to call them. If I can get a call through." With all the rain, sometimes the phone service was spotty.
Clay nodded.
Nevvie walked through the house to the kitchen and sat at the table. It would be easier to call Tom first. She knew and liked his sisters, but she wasn't as close to Cheryl and Katie as she was to Karen and April.
Unfortunately, she tried calling their house and Tom's and Tyler's cell numbers at least ten times each. Each time, she received an automated series of beeps and a message that all circuits were busy.
"Fuck." She realized she didn't have her address book with her, and didn't have Cheryl's and Katie's numbers plugged into her phone. After getting the numbers from Karen, Nevvie made the calls. She called Cheryl first to break the news to her. Then she called Katie.
Then she tried Tom and Tyler again.
Still no luck.
Fighting her own tears, she tried Jacob and Kyle, John and Kelly, and even Pete and Eddie with the same result. Calls to Bob, their friend and attorney, also gave her an automated message.
After taking a deep breath, she systematically began going through her contact list on her phone and tried everyone she could from Tom's office, as well as other friends in the Tampa area.
All circuits busy.
She wanted to throw her phone into the wall and barely managed to stop herself.
That won't help anyone.
Then she remembered Bob had an office in Orlando. She fired up her laptop, looked up the number, and called.
She nearly sobbed with relief when a real, live receptionist answered the phone.
"Oh, thank god. I have to get in touch with Bob. This is Nevvie Kinsey-Paulson. We're clients of his."
The woman's voice turned hesitant. "I can take a message for him, and-"
"No! No, I have to talk to him. I have his personal numbers, and when I try them all, I keep getting an 'all circuits busy' message. I need him to get a message to my husbands."
"Husbands?"
She sooo didn't need this crap today. "Tom Kinsey and Tyler Paulson. They've been friends and clients of his for like twenty freaking years!" She rattled off Bob's private numbers from memory. "Would I have those numbers if he wasn't a friend?"
"Wait, the novelist, Tyler Paulson?"
"Yes!"
"Okay, ma'am. Hold on for me for just a moment."
Nevvie wanted to scream when before she could protest, generic, boring instrumental music played in her ear. After a few nerve-wracking minutes, a man came on the line. "Nevvie? This is Terry."
Now she wanted to sob with relief. Bob's husband. "Oh, thank god! Are you guys all in Orlando?"
"No, Bob stayed behind and went to his brother's house in Lutz. I brought the kids here. What's wrong?"
She outlined what had happened. He listened quietly, and when she finished, he understood. "Okay. Sometimes I can get calls through to him from here, but I usually have to wait for him to call me. It's a mess over there. Lots of cell towers damaged or down. The system's overloaded. I'll try Tommy and Ty first for you, though. Do you want me to tell them for you, or just have them call you?"
She thought about it. "It's better it comes from me. Have them try to call out."
"Okay. I'm really sorry, Nev."
"Thanks."
"She's the one who... Isn't she?"
"Yeah. It's her."
"Oh, wow." He let out a sigh. "Let me know if they don't call you within an hour, okay?"
"I will. Thanks."
She hung up, rested her head on her arms on the table, the phone in her hand, and waited.
Chapter Ten.
Monday morning, they were able to get Pete and Eddie back home. Kelly drove Eddie over first, and once they found out the power was on and the house undamaged other than the pool cage, Eddie drove their other car back to Tom and Tyler's to get Pete and Tom-Tom. They'd leave their damaged car parked there until the insurance company could send a wrecker for it. Water had gotten into the dash and shorted out the instrument panel.
Kyle and Jacob's apartment complex was still dark, however, not to mention the building their unit was located in had sustained severe roof damage. Electric company trucks were working nearby to replace downed feeder lines.
John was anxious to return to see what was left of their house and started out before everyone else. He made Kelly go back to Pete and Eddie's to help them. "I don't even know if we can get into our subdivision," he told her. "And I don't know if it'll be safe. Pete's not supposed to be doing anything. You can help Eddie pick up their yard."
"You just don't want me getting upset," she playfully accused him.
"Guilty as charged." He kissed her. "Please?"
She rolled her eyes at him. "Fine."
"We won't be able to get a rental truck," Tom said to John before his departure. "If the places are even open, everyone who lost a house will be getting them to move what they can. I'll go borrow a pickup truck from the office."
Tom and Tyler, with Jacob and Kyle riding shotgun in Tom's truck, drove to Tom's office and snagged one of their survey pickups. Tom left a note on Kenny's desk about it, and they slowly made their way over to Town 'n' Country. A drive that, even at rush hour, would have normally taken no more than ninety minutes took them over three hours. Tom's leg was already sounding off in protest, but he ignored it. He couldn't afford to take a pain pill when they still had so much to do.
When they arrived, they saw John had already stacked several waterlogged and ruined chairs and other items by the curb. Tom stared at the house.
"Wow," Tyler whispered. "That's...horrible."
"That's one way to describe it," Tom said. The roof had been almost completely ripped off. No decking remained, and most of the trusses were either gone or collapsed. In the front yard, one oak tree lay on its side, and another canted at an odd angle. Mud and other residue coated the outside of the house more than four feet high.
They found John inside the living room, staring up at the huge hole where his roof used to be.
"I couldn't move the couch by myself," he said without looking at them. "It's too heavy and sop-soaking wet."
"You okay?" Tom asked.
When he finally looked at them, his shoulders slumped. "No. But I have to be. It's a complete loss. We can't move back in here. Between losing the roof and the flooding, it's a total loss. Thank god I've got flood insurance and a good hurricane rider."