“Because the police wouldn’t have been able to protect me or my family, and Nolan would only do something worse. Instead, I did what he said and didn’t ask questions.”
There was a raw thread of fear running through Tom’s voice. Weston wasn’t immune to it. He softened his stance. “How did Nolan react when his dad died?”
“He was furious and talked about getting revenge.” Tom glanced at Avery, and a pained look came over his face. “Every scenario involved your dad.”
“Except Nolan never acted on his threats,” Avery said. “Why do you think that is?”
“Honestly, Nolan was scared of your dad. Don’t get me wrong, Nolan was dangerous. But he was only twenty and had a healthy fear of prison. His dad, Jack, told him horror stories about jail and swore he’d never go back.”
Weston was getting mixed signals from Tom. In one breath, he was terrified of Nolan; in the next, he shared family stories. “Did you spend a lot of time with Nolan and his dad?”
Tom shrugged. “Enough. Like I said, I was young and stupid.”
Yeah, definitely mixed signals. Why would Tom hang out with Nolan if he was terrified of him? Victim and abuser could sometimes be a complicated relationship, and it sounded like Nolan was emotionally and mentally abusing Tom. The dog story demonstrated that. Still, something was off.
“What else can you tell us about Jack?” he asked.
“Well, Jack took pleasure in taunting the police. Jack and Nolan used to strategize on the next move. They both thought they were smarter than the cops.” Tom rocked back on his heels. “I’m happy to say they were wrong.”
Avery frowned. “Hold on, so you knew Jack had assaulted Beverly and you never went to the police?”
She tried to hide her disgust, but Weston heard the vibration of it in her voice. He shared her feelings.
Tom glared at her. “Didn’t you hear me say earlier that Nolan killed my dog? Nolan worshipped his father. If I went to the police and reported Jack, Nolan would’ve killed me. No question.” He grabbed the bucket of mail and lifted it off the counter. “Now, I really need to go. I’m late.”
He pushed past them, and this time, Weston let him. Tom paused in the doorway. “Do you really think Nolan could be back in town, murdering women?”
“Is he capable of faking his own death and creating a new identity?” Avery asked. “Smart enough to evade the police? Cruel enough to kill?”
Tom took a shaky breath. “The answer to all of that is yes. And if Nolan is behind this, then Avery, you should be careful. He didn’t get revenge on your dad, but Nolan’s older now. I wouldn’t put it past him to try his hand with you.”
Sixteen
Weston chugged his fifth cup of coffee and studied the whiteboard. It was Friday evening. Rachel had been missing for nineteen hours, and they were no closer to finding her.
Beside him, Avery briefly touched her temple. Probably nursing another headache. Harrison University’s open house was underway, and while Avery had delegated much of the work for the event, security issues had come up. Weston had done his best to help shoulder the burden, but it wasn’t enough. There were shadows under Avery’s eyes and her complexion was pale.
Grady, along with Emilia, walked into the conference room. Both looked as exhausted as Weston felt. Grady had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and hadn’t shaved since yesterday. Emilia’s hair was pulled back into a messy bun. They carried takeaway coffee cups.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Grady said. “Let’s jump right in. We got a break in Rachel’s case. A neighbor saw a delivery van on Rachel’s street half an hour before she was taken. Considering the lateness of the hour, he wrote down the license plate.”
Weston straightened. “And?”
“The plates were stolen from long-term parking at Austin-Bergstrom International Airport. We questioned Marianne’s neighbors again. One remembered a delivery van on her street as well. A white van with Texas plates and a small company logo on the side. We traced the van from a gas station security camera. Different plates than the van on Rachel’s street. Also stolen. The company logo had been changed.”
“He’s one step ahead of us,” Avery said. “The logo is probably a stick on. He can switch them, along with plates.”
Emilia nodded. “This is pretty detailed planning. I believe the killer has knowledge of law enforcement procedures. Additionally, Harrison University is a comfortable space for him, and so is Union County.”
“What do you mean by comfortable?” Avery asked.
“Leaving Debra in the classroom and Marianne at your house was risky. The killer had to be familiar with both spaces, and confident enough to believe he wouldn’t get caught. Either he grew up here or has lived in town for a while.” Emilia swept a hand across her forehead, knocking the bangs out of her eyes. “We’re looking for a white male, thirty to fifty. He has intimate knowledge about Jack Starin’s death. The killer is intelligent, organized, and a chess fan.”
Weston scanned the whiteboard and the photographs of the women. He pointed to Rachel. “What chess piece does she represent? Debra was a pawn and Marianne a rook. Is Rachel a knight?”
Emilia shook her head. “A knight is a soldier, so no. I think Rachel is a bishop. In medieval times, bishops were influential. Rachel worked at the crisis center, mostly doing fundraising. She’s a people person and successful in getting donations.”
“Let’s look at our top three suspects using Emilia’s profile,” Grady said. “There’s Nolan Starin. Missing and presumed dead, based on the evidence found in his apartment, including signs of a struggle and large amounts of blood. I’ve seen the DNA report and can confirm the blood is Nolan’s. None of his cousins or old friends have heard from him since the day he went missing. There’s no indication he’s alive. Of course, that doesn’t wipe him off the suspect list, but
