that she was a good person. I’m not judging her, or you, or your friends. Finding her killer is my only priority. Okay?”
Jodi’s lip quivered, but she nodded.
“Jodi, we need to know if S-two on your post was Steve Thomas.”
Jodi’s eyes widened with surprise. “How’d you know that was me? I didn’t use my name!”
Carina reached out and touched the ends of her hair. “Hair.”
“Oh.”
“Jodi, this is important,” Will said. “Was he Steve Thomas?”
“Y-Yes.”
“When were you involved with him?”
“Before Angie started seeing him. In November.”
“For how long?”
“Umm, just a couple weeks. Angie hooked up with him after.”
“Who broke it off?”
“It was mutual.”
“Jodi.”
She glanced down. “He did.”
“What did he say?”
“That he cared about me and I deserved someone better than him.” She bit her thumbnail again.
“Were you upset that Angie and Steve were together?”
“No.”
She was lying, but Carina didn’t think she could press out the truth, and what would it accomplish if she did? “Why do you think Angie got a restraining order against Steve?”
She looked them in the eye. “She was scared.”
“Of Steve?”
“I don’t know. He scared her, something he said, and she didn’t want to talk about it. I don’t think it was just because of Steve.”
“Why do you think she was scared?”
“I don’t know. Really, it’s something Abby and I were talking about last night. Just a feeling. But it was also around the time she found out Doug was two-timing her, and that really upset her. So maybe we’re just trying to read something into it because of what happened.” She took a deep breath. “She did start getting some weirder than normal comments on her posts.”
“Anything specific?”
“I never saw them. She deleted a bunch of them. But they made her nervous, and then with Steve hounding her all the time to stop writing the journal, she wondered if he was the one posting the comments. You know, to scare her into not posting her sex diary.”
Carina glanced at Will and saw that he was thinking the same thing she was.
“Thank you, Jodi,” Will said. “Please be careful, okay? Don’t go anywhere alone, at least for the time being. Be aware of your surroundings. We’re concerned about your safety.”
“It was a dumb thing to do. We were drinking and one thing led to another…” Tears welled in her eyes. “Will you find out who killed her? Can you stop him?”
“We will,” Carina said. She hoped.
Carina and Will thanked the dean for the use of his office and walked back to their car. Carina called her brother Patrick.
“Patrick, it’s your big sister.”
“What do you want?”
“Do I always want something?”
“Yes.”
She grinned. “We might have a break.” She filled him in on the deleted messages. “Do you think you can retrieve them?”
A long silence. “Don’t think so, Cara.”
“Why not? I know those undelete programs the department got from the FBI e-crimes division are the best.”
“True, but those comments would have been saved on the external server, not the victim’s own hard drive. Unless she copied them for some reason and saved them, you’ll need a warrant to access the MyJournal server, and then if they were deleted before a backup was complete, I doubt there’ll be any record of them.”
“Dammit, Patrick, that wasn’t what I wanted to hear.”
“But,” he continued, “I can find out if any of the comments were posted by your suspect. And there’ll be a log on Angie’s computer as to when the comments were deleted. Maybe she e-mailed them to someone, maybe she saved them. I’ll look, sis, but I can’t promise I’ll have the answers you want.”
“Thanks.” She hung up and relayed the conversation to Will. “We need to get back downtown ASAP. Dillon’s probably already waiting for us.”
“I hope he can help with a profile,” Will said.
“Dillon is unusually good at getting into the mind of murderers,” Carina said. “If anyone can help, it’s him.”
Nick arrived at the police station just before the lunch hour, hoping he could convince detectives Kincaid and Hooper to accept his assistance with the investigation.
If they didn’t want his help, he’d work it alone. But he hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
“May I help you?” the desk sergeant asked.
Nick showed his badge, knowing it was the fastest way to get information. “Sheriff Thomas, from out of state. I’m looking for Detectives Kincaid and Hooper about a case they’re working.”
“They just left.” He glanced at a sheet in front of them. “Signed out for lunch. I can page them for you.”
Nick hesitated. He’d rather talk to them in person, especially with what he wanted to discuss. “When will they return?”
The sergeant sized him up, approved. “They went across the street. To Bob’s Burgers. They left five minutes ago.”
Nick smiled, put his hat back on. “Thanks, Sergeant.”
“Anytime, Sheriff.”
THIRTEEN
CARINA GREETED HER BROTHER with a hug, then sat down across from him in the booth. “Sorry we’re late,” she said.
He waved off the apology. “I only just got here myself.”
“We really appreciate you doing this off the clock.” Though Dillon was a freelance forensic consultant for the District Attorney’s Office and often worked with the police department on complex cases, he was rarely called in before a suspect was in custody. He also maintained a private practice.
Dillon looked more like their Irish-American dad than any of the seven Kincaid children. While Carina shared the darker complexion of her Cuban-born mother, Dillon had the fair skin and red-brown hair of their father. He was built more like a lean football player than a shrink, which made sense since he’d played college ball and had intended to go into sports medicine before being diverted into criminal psychiatry.
Carina let her partner fill Dillon in on the details of Angie’s life, as they knew it, and her death. Dillon looked through the crime file while Will spoke.
“The DA doesn’t think we have enough to prosecute Thomas,” Will said. “That’s why we came to you. Carina and I are leaning toward him as the killer, but there’s no hard evidence. It’s all circumstantial.”
“And you think he’s guilty because she put a restraining order on him.”
