“This just keeps going round and round.”
“We need clarification from Toland,” Noah said. “Tomorrow. One way or another, he’s going to talk with us.”
“Or his lawyer will talk with us,” Josie said.
Noah laughed, breaking some of the tension in the car. “True. Where to now? Home?”
“No,” Josie said. “There’s one stop I need to make.”
She gave him the address to Devon Rafferty’s house. The Land Rover sat in the driveway, now covered with a coating of snow. Christmas lights hung from the eaves of the house. The lights in what Josie remembered was Devon’s home office were on. She knocked on the door, feeling nothing but dread deep in her stomach. Noah’s hand slipped under her oversized coat and found the small of her back. “You’re doing the right thing,” he said. “She deserves to know.”
The door swung open. Josie expected Lilly, but instead found Devon staring at her. Josie said, “Can we talk?”
Forty-Five
Josie tried to sleep after they left Devon Rafferty’s house, but it simply would not come. She kept replaying the conversation over and over in her head. Mostly, though, she couldn’t get the image of Devon’s changing facial expressions out of her mind. As Josie and Noah laid out what they knew and what they suspected about the Watts family’s involvement in setting up and blackmailing her father, Devon went from looking almost excited and relieved at finally having some answers, to looking devastated and angry. She’d thanked them when they left but she’d still been crying. Trinity and Josie’s parents were due to stay with Josie and Noah until after Christmas. Josie’s family was excited to have them home in time for dinner, and they had all shared a meal. As everyone laughed and chatted around her, Josie had to bite her tongue to keep from bringing up the Jeremy Rafferty case at dinner and asking Trinity to do a show on him. Even though Devon finally had some answers, the truth of her father’s demise was a long way from being made public, if it ever could be.
In bed, Josie held onto the Chief’s rosary beads until she fell into a fitful sleep. Noah woke her in the morning with a hand across her stomach. She turned and fit herself against his body. Trout had already abandoned them after hearing Christian and Shannon in the kitchen. If there was potential food to be had, he wasn’t above leaving his owners behind. Josie loved the feel of her husband’s body next to hers, his hands exploring her, and yet, she felt guilty for enjoying this small, stolen moment knowing that Amber’s fate was still unknown.
As if sensing her thoughts, Noah kissed her neck and said, “Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?” she mumbled.
He shifted so that he could capture her mouth in a slow kiss. Then he said, “Thinking about the case. Right now, be here with me. It’s okay. You’re allowed to enjoy this.”
She wanted to enjoy this moment very much. His hazel eyes twinkled as he stared down at her. Josie turned onto her back and reached for his shoulders, pulling him down to her. “Clear my head,” she told him.
An hour later they were showered, dressed, fed, partially caffeinated, and standing in the great room on the second floor of the stationhouse. In spite of the lack of sleep the week had brought, and her high anxiety over Amber, Josie felt more alert and clear-headed than she had in days. She sipped a large coffee while the Chief spoke to all of them. Mettner and Gretchen were seated at their desks, looking even more haggard than the day before. Outside, there were already three inches of snow on the ground, and the forecast called for a lot more.
“First,” said the Chief. “We can’t find this little shit, Gabriel, for anything. It’s like he disappeared into thin air. The K-9s didn’t even have any luck. They lost his scent somewhere in the damn woods, too, so it’s not like he got into a vehicle. I’ve got a small crew out there looking now, and we’ve got his photo out to every department in the state. At this point, we just have to wait for him to make a mistake and show his face somewhere. That said, I’m not so much interested in him right now.”
The Chief had everyone’s attention now.
“I took a look through the phone records you all were able to get—they came in early this morning. Guess who Gabriel Watts was having regular calls with the last six weeks?”
“Thatcher Toland,” Noah guessed.
The Chief made a sound like a buzzer. “Wrong. Vivian Toland.”
“What?” blurted Gretchen.
“Are you sure?” asked Mettner.
Chitwood rolled his eyes. “No, I’m not sure. Maybe it was Santa Claus or Rudolf the damn Red-nosed Reindeer. Of course I’m sure. Gabriel Watts and Vivian Toland have been talking on the phone several times a day for the last six weeks. The last call between them was two days before you three—” he pointed to Noah, Josie, and Gretchen. “Went to his house and he ran off.”
More of the puzzle in the back of Josie’s mind slipped into place. “Vivian is orchestrating this,” she said. “To keep Thatcher’s reputation, and more importantly, his financial status, intact. She knows. She knows what Thatcher did with one of the Watts sisters, and she’s using Gabriel to silence them.”
“Then why kill Lydia?” asked Mettner.
“She probably knew about it,” Josie said. “Clearly, Hugo did. They probably all knew about it. She’ll keep Gabriel around because he’s insanely loyal to Toland Ministries.”
“You think that Gabriel would choose Thatcher Toland, a pedophile, over his own sisters? His own family?” asked Noah.
Gretchen piped up. “You said yourself he’s got some screws loose. Maybe Vivian manipulated him into thinking that what happened between Thatcher and one of his sisters was somehow his sister’s fault.”
“But why now?” Mettner asked. “Why is all this happening now? The Watts family has been out there for years with this knowledge. Why did it only become an issue now?”
Chitwood held up a stack of papers. “Phone records,” he said. “I’ve got Lydia Norris’s records. Not much here except that a few hours after Quinn and Palmer were with her at Amber’s house, she got a call from what appears to be a burner phone. Spoke for nine minutes and thirty-seven seconds.”
“The next thing we know she’s in the fish lift,” said Gretchen. “So whoever called her from that number is probably our killer.”
“Except we can’t track the phone,” said Noah. “Dead end. Did you get Eden Watts’ phone records?”
One of Chitwood’s bushy brows kinked. “As a matter of fact, I did. She was in touch with Thatcher Toland for about two months before her best friend saw her in a coffee shop with him.”
Josie got up and took the pages from Chitwood, taking them back to her desk to page through them. She studied the dates and then turned to her computer, clicking on her internet browser. The search only took a few seconds. “Thatcher Toland’s book was released days before his contact with Eden started.”