The Drowning Girls (Detective Josie Quinn #13)

“I don’t think any of those guys are for real,” Gretchen said.

Something was fighting its way out of the darkness in the back of Josie’s mind, but she couldn’t quite make it out yet. Mentally, she tried to pull it into focus, but it wouldn’t crystallize. Something about their theory. All the pieces fit, and yet something felt off. Like when you worked on a jigsaw puzzle and you had a piece that almost fit into place, but one of the edges was just a little too large or too narrow; too rounded or too edged. You could force the piece into place and it seemed fine—until you found the puzzle piece that truly went there. Only then could you see how easily and perfectly it fit and how wrong you were about the first one.

“Shit,” she said.

“What is it?” Noah asked.

She shook her head. “Nothing. I don’t know. Never mind. Right now we need to get to work.”

“Where should we start?” asked Gretchen.

“We need to find Gabriel Watts,” said Josie. “That’s first. We should have Hugo come back in for another chat. Then we need to speak directly to Thatcher Toland. I also want those phone records. Amber, Eden, Gabriel, and Lydia.”

The stairwell door opened, sending a whoosh of air through the room. Sergeant Dan Lamay shuffled through, wearing a Santa hat and a necklace made of Christmas lights around his neck. In his hands was a tray of Christmas cookies. Everyone turned to stare at him. He froze.

“Lamay,” said Chitwood. “Just what in the hell are you doing?”

Dan looked over his shoulder at the closed door as if wondering whether there was a way to leave without answering the Chief’s question. Apparently realizing there wasn’t, he turned back and held out the cookie tray. “The holiday party. It’s started downstairs. Just wanted to see if any of you wanted to join in.”

“Holiday party?” Noah said. “That’s today?”

Dan walked over and put the cookies on one of the desks and then backed away as if they were an explosive that might detonate at any second. “Never mind then. I’ll just see you all later.”

Once he left, Gretchen started digging into the cookies. “At least holiday parties are good for tasty treats.”

“That means Christmas Eve is tomorrow,” Josie said.

“Don’t remind me,” Mettner groaned. He stood up. “Listen, I can help. I’ll go over to—"

Before he could finish, Chitwood laid a hand on his shoulder. “Sit down, son. You’re staying here to follow up on the warrants for the phone records. Also check in with Officer Hummel. I understand he went to Danville last night to process Lydia Norris’s house. Find out if he found anything helpful.”

Mettner’s lips pressed into a thin line. Josie knew he wanted to argue. He wanted to be out in the field, likely hunting Gabriel Watts down, but he also knew that one wrong word to the Chief could have him sent home altogether to wait for news. “Fine,” he said, sitting back down.

Chitwood pointed in the direction of Josie and Noah. “You two, you’re on Hugo and Toland.”

Mettner said, “They’ll never get Toland. He’s away till tomorrow, unless that was a lie, in which case it sounds like he’s already ignoring you.”

“But tomorrow Thatcher will be giving his first sermon at the new megachurch,” said Josie. “And guess who his wife personally invited to attend?”

Everyone stared at her and Noah.

Chitwood grinned. “All right, Detectives. Let’s see how far we get. You two find Hugo and see where you get with Toland. If you can’t get him today, we show up at his megachurch tomorrow. Palmer and I will resume the search for Gabriel Watts. Come on, Palmer. Let’s call the press.”





Forty-Two





Hugo Watts had checked into the Eudora Hotel, which was the largest and most lavish hotel in Denton. Standing twelve stories high, it took up half a city block. It was as old as the city itself, and its ornate brickwork had been on the historic register for as long as Josie could remember. Stepping into the lobby was like stepping one hundred years into the past. The emerald carpet was even more lush than Rectify Church’s new carpets. Antique furniture filled the lobby. Marble pillars reached high to the coffered ceilings. Crystal chandeliers hung overhead, giving off a soft and inviting light. From somewhere unseen, instrumental music fed into the lobby.

The manager gave them Hugo Watts’ room number once they told him that they had to serve a death notification. They had deliberately not called ahead. Josie didn’t want to alert Hugo and risk him taking off. They were already expending tens of thousands of dollars in police resources looking for one Watts man. Josie wanted to maintain the element of surprise for the other.

On the ninth floor, the housekeeping carts stood outside of several open rooms, piled high with toiletries, towels, and other linens. Hugo Watts had placed a “Do Not Disturb” sign on his doorknob to indicate that he didn’t want housekeeping to turn over his room that morning. Josie banged on his door. There was no answer. They waited a long moment and then Noah pounded, harder this time. Still nothing.

“Mr. Watts,” called Josie loudly. “It’s the Denton Police. We need to speak with you.”

She heard footsteps then and a second later, the door swung open. Hugo stood there in a pair of pressed black slacks and a button-down shirt that hung open, revealing a white tank top beneath it. His shirt cuffs were undone and his feet were bare. His hair was damp and looked freshly combed. Josie caught a whiff of soap and shampoo when he stuck his head out into the hallway, looking from side to side. “You don’t have to yell,” he said. “I’d prefer if you didn’t cause a scene. What is this all about? Why didn’t you call?”

Noah said, “What we have to talk about is not the sort of thing you discuss over the phone.”

Hugo stepped back into his room, expression frozen. There was definite fear there, Josie thought. “Can we come in?” she asked as she crossed the threshold and edged past him. Noah followed, closing the door behind them. Deeper into the room, Josie saw that his bed was unmade, a small overnight bag on top, its zipper open. A shaving kit peeked out. A suit jacket and tie were laid out across an armchair in the corner. His socks and shoes sat in front of the same chair.

Josie walked over to the window and looked out at the panoramic view of the city. It was always breathtaking from the upper floors of the Eudora. To her left, the television was on, muted. Chief Chitwood and Gretchen appeared on camera. They stood outside of Gabriel Watts’ home in Woodling Grove.

Noah took up position near the bathroom door while Josie remained at the window. Hugo stayed near the door. He said, “Detectives, I’d appreciate it if you got straight to the point. I have to check out in twenty minutes.”

“Going somewhere?” Noah asked.