Oh, and a bottle of Tito’s vodka seemed to be missing.
Cooper told them he would meet them at their house when they got home from work, and Ryan Pendelan said he’d be back by four, so Cooper decided he would make it his last appointment of the day. The crime team had already dusted for prints when he got there and not found any. He listened to Pendelan, who was somewhere in his late twenties or early thirties, and his myriad complaints about the terrible state of “today’s youth.” It seemed more like the kind of charge someone much older would level.
As Pendelan showed him around the house, pointing out where items were missing, Cooper was already half-convinced there might be a connection between this burglary and the vandalism case, both of which could have happened the same night. The way the Pendalan’s television was moved, but not taken, seemed like the work of an amateur, and the vandalism and vodka tryst in the weeds read like teens.
And it was also the same night the Ryerson’s home had been invaded by an intruder who had accosted Marissa. Was it a teen? He didn’t want to think so. He knew the boys who’d spooked her, and they weren’t bad guys, but they were walking that thin line between right and wrong. He didn’t want them choosing the latter.
On the other hand, he didn’t want to believe it was a criminal intent on harming her. It was what Marissa believed, and he was going with that, but that thought turned his insides to ice because it might very well mean whoever it was would try again.
“Anything else you’ve noticed missing?” Cooper asked as Pendelan wrapped up his tour.
“My wife says a blanket, an extra one we use in the den.”
Cooper added that to his notes, but didn’t tell him about the evidence they’d found outside Staffordshire Estates.
Checking the time, Cooper decided to stop into the station before he left for the day. His mind was still churning over what he’d learned. The Pendelan burglary and Staffordshire defacement both bore the earmarks of someone young: stolen liquor, pointless vandalism, a blanket on the ground during a cold night rather than indoors. Though Staffordshire was far enough away that you might want to drive, the Pendelan burglary was only a few doors down from the Ryerson home invasion. All three crimes were either the same night, or only a few days apart.
He wondered if any of the houses at the new development had a security camera system. Based on the prices he’d seen, he guessed a lot of them might once they were finished. Unfortunately, only a couple of them were nearing completion, the one his ex and David Musgrave were in escrow over being one of them.
He called Laura to ask her. She answered on the second ring and said urgently, “Did you find him?”
He knew she meant Marissa’s attacker. “No. Howie’s on that case, as I told you.”
“So, you didn’t find him.” Her disappointment was great.
“Not yet. Check with Howie. He’s the one with all the updates.” This wasn’t entirely true; Cooper had been let in to the investigation once the boys were removed as prime suspects. “I wanted to ask you if you have security cameras at your new house in Staffordshire.”
“Yes, of course. I’m not letting anything like this happen at my house.”
“Are they operational?”
“I don’t—” She stopped herself. “Why?”
“I was hoping to see some footage from Saturday night. There was vandalism at one of the houses.”
“Oh. Yes. I know about that one.” She paused. “I don’t think so, but I’ll ask our builder.”
“Thanks, Laura.”
She didn’t respond for a moment, then mumbled a goodbye. Since their divorce, Laura was always uncomfortable with Cooper when she determined he was being gracious.
At the station, Howie said, “Phil Kearns came in.”
“What for?” Cooper asked.
“To lodge a complaint against you. He thinks you’ve been having extracurricular activities with his wife.”
Elena Verbena, leaned back in her chair, several desks over. “Haynes,” she said in a tsk-tsk voice.
“He’s mad because he’s the one who had to leave and blames me.” Cooper sat down at his own desk.
Elena shook her black curls. “I really hate dealing with he said/she saids.”
Chief Bennihof came out of his office. “Got a lot of pressure from the Douglas and Stillwell kids’ fathers. They both, by the way, said they didn’t want you bothering their sons.” He looked at Cooper.
“Me?” Cooper was surprised.
“I told them that Eversgard and Verbena were handling the case. That’s right, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Cooper wondered where this was coming from.
“I know you said you wanted on the case.” Bennihof regarded him intently from beneath bushy, gray brows.
“The fathers are classmates of mine, but I’m not asking them about their sons.”
“Okay. Keep it that way.”
Bennihof went back into his office and closed the door. Elena, Howie, and Cooper waited till he was gone then looked at each other. They all felt Bennihof’s was a political appointment. He wasn’t a bad guy, but he wasn’t much of a cop.
Howie cast an eye back to the chief’s office. He said quietly to Cooper, “You need to know anything, ask me.”
Cooper appreciated it. However, he knew he needed to play by the rules for the time being. “Thanks. I’m okay for now.”
On the way out of the station, Cooper took a detour to cruise by Deke’s girlfriend’s address, which he’d looked up after they’d brushed by each other at the hospital. He’d done the same thing almost every day this week. He wanted to talk to her but knew she already resented his intrusion, so he was biding his time, waiting for a better opportunity.
Now he turned onto her block. Hillary Campion lived in one half of a rather run-down duplex. Cooper had learned she rented the place from the owner, who lived in the other half. She worked nights in the kitchen of a Portland restaurant. Her Dodge Neon in the driveway. Fifteen years old
