So, they had nothing. The weight of it pressed down on Avery. She sank into her chair and yanked open her desk drawer. She rummaged around until she found her secret stash of chocolate peanut butter cups. “I’m really hoping you have some good news in that folder of yours.”
He chuckled. “How about mixed news?”
“Better than nothing.” She tossed him a chocolate and opened one for herself. “Hit me with it.”
“We located some cousins of Jack Starin. Turns out he did have a son. Nolan Starin.”
Her heart skipped a beat. Weston pulled out a mug shot and pushed it across the desk toward her. The man staring back at her was hardened by time and middle age. Gray streaked his dark hair at the temples and he had a nasty scar along his chin. The information under the photo was from three years ago. It listed Nolan as a forty-five-year-old white male, 6’2”, with brown eyes.
“Why didn’t we find Nolan during our initial search?” Avery asked.
“Because Jack was a teenager when Nolan was born. Nolan’s mother died in childbirth, and he was adopted and raised by his maternal grandparents. They lived in Houston, but according to the extended family, Nolan would travel to Union County often to visit his father. Unfortunately, the grandparents are both deceased.” Weston sighed. “And, it seems, Nolan may be too.”
Avery blinked, certain she’d misheard him. “I’m sorry. Excuse me?”
“Nolan was sentence to a long stint in prison—twenty years, in fact—after he kidnapped and assaulted a college student. With credit for good behavior, he got out early and was placed on parole. Six months later, he failed to show up for a meeting with his parole officer. Police were sent to his address. They found a huge amount of blood in the kitchen and evidence of a struggle.”
“But no body?”
“No. They classified it as missing, presumed dead. According to the detective I spoke to, it was impossible for Nolan to have survived.” He held up a finger in anticipation of her next question. “They did a DNA test and confirmed the blood was Nolan’s.”
She bit into her chocolate and chewed furiously. “When did this happen?”
“Three years ago.” Weston tossed his wrapper in the trash. “The extended family I spoke to haven’t heard from Nolan since.”
“Seems awfully convenient.” Whoever was committing these murders was smart and understood police procedure. The Chessmaster was capable of faking his own death. “What do we know about the kidnapping and assault Nolan was convicted of?”
“He stalked and terrorized a college student for almost a year before he broke into her home and attacked her. Nolan attempted to strangle her with a rope, but her roommate came home early from work because she was sick, and the two women were able to escape.”
“Sounds similar to the assault Nolan’s dad, Jack, committed.”
Weston nodded. “About that. We finally located Beverly Wilkins’s case file. It makes for interesting reading. Your friend Calvin was right. The sheriff’s department covered up Mike’s incident with the patrol car. The case file reports the evidence was stolen but doesn’t say how. Your dad, Kenneth, never let up on the case.”
“That’s not surprising.” She tossed her own candy wrapper in the trash. “My dad was as stubborn as I am.”
Weston briefly smiled before his expression grew serious again. “Jack Starin learned the evidence from the assault had been stolen. He started stalking and terrorizing his victim, Beverly. Kenneth worked hard to protect her, but the stalking laws twenty years ago were nonexistent. He pulled Jack in for questioning but got nowhere. Kenneth followed Jack, trying to catch him in violation of the law, anything he could do to keep the man in jail and away from Beverly.”
“The Chessmaster mentioned last night that his father and mine had battled it out. That’s what he was talking about.”
“Yes. Jack broke into Beverly’s home, cutting himself in the process. He left fingerprints and blood behind. It was the break your dad needed. When Kenneth showed up to arrest him, Jack opened fire. Your dad’s life was threatened. He returned fire and Jack was killed.”
Avery let out a breath. “And now Nolan wants revenge. What was the word he used? A rematch.”
“Or someone wants us to think he does.”
She reared back. “What do mean?”
He was quiet for a long moment. “It would be easy for Mike Steel to point us in this direction. He had access to all of the files and could’ve kept tabs on Nolan.”
She let out a long breath. Weston was right. “Has anyone questioned Mike about where he was last night?”
“His lawyer refuses to allow any questioning. He also won’t consent to a search of Mike’s house, and we don’t have enough evidence to get a warrant. I got permission for undercover officers to watch Mike after our initial conversation with him yesterday, but they arrived after Rachel went missing.”
She rose from her chair and walked over to the window behind her desk. Beyond the glass, people rushed by on the sidewalk. Their umbrellas fluttered in the wind. She wanted to protect every female on campus but felt powerless to do so.
Lord, every step forward is another step back. Please, help me.
Weston came up next to her. He didn’t try to make her feel better with false pretenses. Instead, he was quiet, his broad shoulders squared, his mouth firmly set. It was something she was coming to rely on. His strength and partnership. The knowledge that every frustration she had about this case, he shared. And it made her feel less lonely at a time where guilt and worry might’ve eaten her alive.
Avery took a deep breath. “Okay, so there are two strong options. One possibility is that
