That week, great as it had been, was over. He’d gone back to Idaho and the property his family owned there, and she’d moved on to start her new job as a deputy for his cousin.
“Is there no one besides Reggie Barstock on our suspect list?” Courtney asked.
Zach shook his head.
“There have to be others,” she continued.
“No one as strong as Reggie,” Deputy Lopez said.
“Because he has a criminal record?” She didn’t see how burglaries catapulted him into the category of serial killer. “How old is Reggie now?”
“Thirty-three.” Zach clasped his hands and rested them on the conference table.
“I didn’t know him very well growing up. He was quite a few years older than me, but I’m picturing someone with a higher IQ here. Am I alone?” From everything she knew about serial killers, they were intelligent, lacked a conscience but could be incredibly charming when it served them. At least, the ones who got away with their crimes were. And this perpetrator had the presence of mind to ensure he left no DNA behind. That took some calculating on his part.
The first heifer had been found near Rushing Creek, and the other animals had eventually been found near there. Breanna had been discovered two miles up the creek on the Kent family property. Courtney would have to speak to family members as part of the investigation. She figured it wouldn’t be too difficult to bypass Jordan, since he lived out of state. The last thing she wanted to do was run into him again while she still felt so vulnerable after their fling.
“Do you have any other ideas for suspects?” Lopez leaned toward her.
“No. But the Jacobstown Hacker is careful, calculating. He’s methodical,” she continued. “I’m not completely convinced that I’m seeing that in Reggie’s file.”
“I feel the same way about Gus Stanton.” Lopez snapped his fingers. “He’s been home on worker’s comp after an accident a few years ago unloading his rig. He lives on the outskirts of town on a couple of acres. Keeps to himself mostly.”
Having returned to town a month and a half ago, Courtney had to defer to Lopez and the sheriff for up-to-date information about residents. She hadn’t heard of Gus Stanton growing up, so he must’ve moved to the area after she’d left.
“Why don’t you go out and check on him? See if you can get a feel for his emotional state,” Zach said. “If he has a bad left foot from the accident, I want to know about it.”
“Does Gus have a family?” Courtney asked. The guy she was looking for was a loner.
“He’s divorced with two kids. I believe his ex moved the kids to New Braunfels to be with her folks a couple of years back,” Zach supplied.
“Sounds like we’ve doubled our list of suspects,” Courtney said. There were half a dozen names that had been submitted and cleared almost immediately. The pair of suspects they had didn’t exactly fit the loose profile they’d developed. It was impossible not to feel like they were letting the community down.
All the townsfolk were antsy, sitting on pins and needles in anticipation of another strike. People had taken to locking their doors and looking at their neighbors twice. Tips were coming in, but most people were on the wrong track. Every kid who’d ever thrown a rock in the wrong place at the wrong time had been named as a possible lead.
Zach leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose as though to stem a headache. “Since Lopez is taking Gus, why don’t you interview Reggie’s former teachers, friends, neighbors. See what you can come up with about what kind of student he was. If he’s smarter than we’re giving him credit for, I want to know that, too.”
“Will do, Zach.” It was habit to call him by his first name after growing up friends with his sister, and yet it felt awkward after the formality of working in a big-city department.
Courtney picked up the pen and started clicking it again. She caught herself this time and set the pen down. She stretched her long, lean fingers over it.
“Go see what you can find out, and we’ll meet again tomorrow.” Zach glanced up at the whiteboard on the adjacent wall, where there were two names.
“Have there been any new Reggie sightings?” Courtney stood up, got hit with another wave and had to plant a hand on the table in order to steady herself.
“You sure you’re okay to work?” Zach’s brow creased with concern.
“I’m good,” she responded a little too quickly. “No more potluck for me.”
“To answer your question, yes. There’s a new sighting almost every day. Nothing has panned out so far,” Zach said.
Getting out of the stuffy office where she could grab some fresh air was her top priority. The department-issue SUV assigned to her was at the opposite end of the parking lot.
Taking in a lungful of crisp late-morning air, she was reminded how good it felt just to breathe. She’d taken a new job in a new city—not technically new, but she hadn’t lived in Jacobstown in almost a decade—and this was supposed to be a fresh start after what had happened in Dallas when a protest turned into civil unrest. Eight officers had been killed that day, three of whom she’d been very close to. One of whom she’d been intimate with.
Courtney had barely escaped with her life. She’d gone back to the job after a three-month recovery and counseling stint after being shot. But living in the city, doing that job had lost its appeal. Since law enforcement was all she knew and at one time had been her passion, she’d called Zach and asked if she could come work for him.
The rest, as they said, was history. Courtney climbed up and slid behind the wheel of her SUV. Her white-knuckle grip did little
