Zoe tried to print the reports again. Still nothing. “Crap.”
Her phone rang, interrupting her failed attempts at getting the computer and printer to talk to each other. Caller ID showed Vance Twp. PD. What had Pete forgotten?
But it wasn’t Pete who responded when she picked up.
“Zoe? This is Abby Baronick.”
Words that might have sent Zoe into a panic had the tone not been as light as it was. “Hey, Abby. What’s up?”
There was a brief pause. “I know you’re busy, but I’ve been working on a hunch and could use your help.”
With her phone pinned between her shoulder and ear, Zoe clicked on a FAQ link regarding printers not printing. “As long as you don’t need me to hook up computer peripherals.”
Another pause. “Huh?”
“Never mind. What can I do for you?”
“I’ve been looking through old reports from around the time Elizabeth Landis was killed, trying to find something…anything to tie her death to this serial killer. Or to debunk the theory, whichever the case may be.”
Abby had Zoe’s full attention. “You’ve found something?”
“I don’t know. It’s one of those things that’s most likely unrelated, but it’s bugging me.” There was another pause and the sound of shuffling papers. “There was another homicide in Monongahela County nine days after Elizabeth’s. As I said, totally unrelated except for the timing. Male. John Doe. Homeless.”
Zoe didn’t see the connection. “What makes you think it has anything to do with Elizabeth’s murder?”
A frustrated sigh filtered through the phone. “It’s a feeling I have. Pete would call it his gut. I don’t want to mention this to him just yet. The thing is…I remember the guy. My dad called him a hobo. He showed up out of nowhere, was around town for a couple of weeks, then vanished until his body was found not far from where I lived back then. I was deep into reading Agatha Christie stories at the time, and my overactive imagination was convinced he’d been murdered, especially since I never learned what he’d died from.”
“A homeless John Doe? If you never heard anything more, it was probably ruled natural causes. Anything else and the newspapers would’ve reported it.”
“Exactly. But here’s the thing.” Abby’s voice took on an excited pitch. “I remember thinking at the time how tall and fit he looked. I mean, when Dad called him a hobo, I immediately thought of a half-starved, stoop-shouldered old man. But this guy had some muscle. Not like a bodybuilder, but like a triathlete.”
Zoe remembered the description of Elizabeth’s killer. Tall and athletic. “You think your homeless man might be the serial killer?”
The excitement vanished from Abby’s voice. “No. I admit that idea’s what started me digging. But there’ve been a number of murders attributed to DLK since this man died.”
Zoe’s own excitement level dropped. “Then he’s probably just that. A homeless guy who happened to die around the same time Elizabeth Landis was murdered.”
“I know. Just a coincidence.” Abby said the last word in syllables for emphasis.
Emphasis that wasn’t lost on Zoe. “Pete hates coincidences.”
“Exactly. And so do I.”
“That makes three of us.” Zoe turned back to her temperamental computer. “Let me dig up Franklin’s findings from the case and see if there’s anything interesting.”
“Perfect. Thank you so much.”
Glancing at the boxes cluttering the small office, Zoe added, “It may take a while. Old file, you know.” Why hadn’t she done a better job of labeling the boxes as she’d stuffed records into them?
After promising to get back in touch with Abby the moment she knew anything, Zoe ended the call and refocused on the printer issue. According to the FAQ page, she needed to reinstall a driver. “Crap,” she muttered at the monitor. “I have too much work to do to mess with this.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
Zoe looked toward the door and the source of the voice. Her half-brother, Scott. She swiveled on the boxes, banging her knee on the desk. Ignoring the pain, she leapt to her feet and crossed the room to him.
His lips tightened as she flung her arms around him. He returned the embrace. “I wasn’t sure you’d be happy to see me.”
“Why?” She stepped back, taking his hands in hers. “I didn’t expect you until tomorrow, but I’m glad you’re here.
“Why?” He echoed her question. “Last November for one thing.”
Their first meeting had been rocky, to say the least.
“I know we said we were going to spend time together. To get to know each other. But we haven’t. I take responsibility for that.”
Zoe cocked her head and gave him what she hoped was a teasing grin. “It’s winter and you live in Erie. The snow capital of Pennsylvania. You have a legitimate excuse.”
The look she gave him must have worked. His face relaxed. “Good thing we have email and phone calls.” He squeezed her hands. “Speaking of Erie, that’s why I drove down a day early. There’s a storm coming in from Canada tonight.”
He didn’t need to elaborate. Zoe had experienced one of those lake-effect snows three months ago, the night they’d met. “I can’t believe you found me.” She shot a glance over her shoulder at the office.
“I wanted to surprise you, so I called Pete. He told me where you were.”
The fact Scott voluntarily contacted Pete despite their strained relationship warmed her. Both men were making an effort. She began to picture Scott walking her down the aisle next week. With Franklin gone and Harry’s health iffy at best, her brother might be the best option.
She released one of his hands and faced the mess. “Welcome to my new office, such as it is.”
He took in the small room, crammed with boxes. “Looks like you could use a hand.” Gesturing at the computer, he added, “What seems to be the problem?”
“My printer won’t print.”
He released her other hand and unzipped his leather bomber jacket. “Then it’s a good thing I’m here.”
Twenty-Two
Pete’s phone chimed as he parked in front of the Vance Township Police Department. The
