Gray tapped his forefinger against Garrick Tillery’s photo.
“What about Garrick Tillery?”
“A witness placed him at the river around the time Cecilia Bond walked past,” Lambert said. “His shirt was covered with blood, and he had a gash across his hand.”
“When do we expect the DNA test?” Aguilar asked.
“It won’t return for another three to five days,” said Gray.
“I can’t believe we let him walk,” Lambert said, tracing the connecting strings with his eyes. “He lives a few houses from Lincoln Ramsey, and he was at the river when Cecilia Bond died.”
Aguilar bobbed her head.
“He also attended church with both victims.”
“Don’t forget he has a sexual assault on his record.”
“Tillery claims the underage girl he had sex with told him she was eighteen,” Thomas said. “But you’re right. It’s another strike against him.”
Gray released a breath and tapped a pen against Duncan Bond’s picture.
“Cecilia Bond’s husband. He turned stir crazy after his wife’s diagnosis and became a religious fanatic.”
Thomas considered Duncan Bond’s demeanor during the interview.
“He admits to fighting with Cecilia. He rubbed me the wrong way during the interview. Something about Duncan Bond seems unhinged. He wasn’t beyond physically abusing Cecilia.”
“The bruising on her body could have come from Duncan,” Lambert said. “Or from falling into the river. Given her medical condition, she bruised easily.”
Aguilar narrowed her eyes at Bond’s picture.
“I suppose we won’t have Bond’s DNA test any sooner than Middleton’s.”
Gray tugged at his mustache.
“We’ll have it as evidence if the case goes to court.” Gray glanced at Thomas. “What did Fowler say?”
“Father Fowler saw Bond in the church around eight-forty-five. Bond’s alibi is weak. If he stalked his wife between six-thirty and seven, he had time to murder Cecilia, clean himself up, and drive to the church before Fowler arrived.”
“Now, do we include Ellie Fisher and Damian Ramos in this web?”
“We have no evidence linking the cases, and we’re not even sure someone harmed Fisher. Her roommate claims she takes off without telling anybody when she wants to get away.”
Gray turned on his heels and paced.
“Which leaves Father Josiah Fowler, who nobody saw inside the church until he ran into Duncan Bond.”
“He doesn’t have an alibi.”
“Father Fowler knew both victims, and Kay Ramsey and Duncan Bond say they placed their spouse’s names inside the prayer jar. That’s not a coincidence.”
Lambert glanced at Aguilar from the corner of his eye. Sheriff Gray couldn’t assess Fowler without bringing his bias into the investigation.
“Fowler doesn’t have a history of violence,” Thomas argued.
“Unless you count vehicular homicide.”
“Which we can’t prove.”
Gray pounded his fist against the table, causing them to jump.
“It has to be Fowler. The FBI agrees with Thomas—we’re searching for an angel of mercy killer, someone with a God complex. In his twisted mind, he pretends he saved Ramsey and Bond from suffering.” Gray stomped to the murder board and moved Fowler’s picture to the center. “No alibi, a history of violence, and he knew both victims. The prayer jar is the trigger. Face it. All the evidence points to Father Josiah Fowler.”
Thomas rounded on Gray and blocked him from marching out of the room.
“If you barge into the church with half-baked evidence, we won’t be able to hold him. Fowler will walk. The wiser plan is to convince him he’s in the clear while we accumulate evidence.”
Aguilar dropped off the table and stood beside Thomas.
“How will we prove Fowler was at the river?”
Lambert strolled to the group.
“We go door to door through the neighborhoods Fowler claims he walked through. If he’s telling the truth, somebody saw him. In the meantime, we canvas the area around the park. Fowler is a recognizable figure. Find a witness who will place him inside the park Tuesday evening.”
“Then it’s agreed,” Thomas said, drawing a scowl from Gray. He’d usurped the sheriff. But Gray was too biased to offer an opinion on Fowler. “We keep a low profile and dig up everything we can on Fowler. Then we take him down.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Saturday, July 18th
12:30 p.m.
Raven watched Damian Ramos enter Benson’s Barbells with a gym bag slung over his shoulder. Running shorts showed off his muscular legs, and the gray tank top already dripped with sweat, evidence he’d exercised before driving to the gym. After a four-hour surveillance mission in which Damian never left the house, Raven worried she was wrong about the boy toy. The ropes and duct tape in his trunk might be explainable. Beyond a little flirtatious conversation, she hadn’t connected Damian to Ellie Fisher. At least she’d found evidence Damian was cheating on Sadie Moreno, even though Raven served as the guinea pig.
After Damian disappeared inside the gymnasium, Raven grabbed her gym bag off the backseat and locked the doors. She spied a security camera angling off the roof and wondered if the owner, Mark Benson, was inside, staring at her on the monitor. Patting her pocket for her wallet, she jogged across the parking lot and pulled the door open.
The warm, vinegary stench of sweaty bodies hit her the moment she entered. Grunts and heavy bars dropped onto racks, drowning out the heavy metal blasting through the speakers. At the greeting window, a disinterested teenage girl stretched her bubble gum and ignored Raven until she knocked on the glass. The girl rolled her eyes when Raven asked for a one-day membership.
“Sign here and here,” the girl said, tapping her red nails on the signature lines.
Once inside, Raven scanned the interior until she spotted Damian on the far side of the gym, racking the weight for a heavy set of bench presses. Not wanting to run into Damian immediately and raise suspicion, she located the stair machine and hung her bag on a rack. She set the machine to low speed and warmed up. After she broke a sweat, she increased the intensity and spied Damian between the safety bars. Good. He hadn’t noticed her.
A sexy woman with auburn hair took the bench beside Damian. His eyes undressed the woman when she wasn’t looking, and
