Dead Against Her (Bree Taggert, #5)

“And if I did, I’d be accused of trying to silence my critics.” Her lips flattened. “Sheriff is an elected office. I’m tried in the court of public opinion.”

It was very difficult to get rid of an elected official, which was why the former sheriff had been able to get away with so much corruption for decades. His popularity had soared with every accusation of excessive use of force. Even after his crimes were made public, not everyone believed he’d been guilty. They insisted he’d been set up.

“I don’t like it either, but I don’t have the skill set to find him. I have to trust Rory to do his job.” Bree glanced at Matt. “Look, I’ve been dealing with sexists my whole professional life, and this is not the first time I’ve been threatened in my law enforcement career. I’m hoping this jerk just wants to vent.”

Matt gestured at her phone. “I don’t think this is venting.” He had a very bad feeling. “This is a deliberate, specific threat.”

And it was disturbing as hell.

“Agreed, but we have a murder to solve. We’ll have to worry about dick pics and nasty messages later.”

“And the direct threat of violence to you?”

Her mouth flattened into a grim line. “Still takes a back seat to murder. Forensics is on it. I don’t have the manpower to do more. My house and family are well secured, and I’ll take extra care with myself. None of the haters have ever followed through.”

Yet.





CHAPTER EIGHT

Matt conceded her point with a single nod, but he would never accept that threats of violence were simply part of Bree’s job.

She blew a hair off her forehead. “Now, what do we know about Oscar’s ex-wife?”

Matt used the dashboard computer. He began with motor vehicle records and expanded from there. “Heather Oscar is forty-seven years old. She drives a 2012 Honda Accord. As far as I can tell from a cursory search, she is squeaky clean. I don’t even see a single traffic ticket.”

“Does she work?”

“She’s a librarian, and she’s been employed by the county for twenty years.”

Matt plugged Oscar’s ex-wife’s address into the GPS. He glanced at the dashboard clock. It was nine o’clock. “Hopefully, she didn’t already leave for work.”

“And didn’t watch the news this morning,” Bree added.

Technically, the ex-wife wasn’t official next of kin, so waking her in the middle of the night hadn’t been warranted. But Matt wanted to observe her when she learned of Oscar’s death. He wanted to see her respond to the news before she had time to think about the ramifications. Before she had time to mentally prepare for their visit or rehearse her response.

Ten minutes later, they stepped out of the vehicle and walked onto the cracked concrete sidewalk of a small apartment complex. Matt scanned the area. Most of the vehicles were inexpensive or older models. Four plain brick buildings were arranged around a rectangular patch of weedy grass.

“Crighton said Oscar complained about excessive alimony.” Bree frowned. “Whatever Heather was doing with all that money, she wasn’t spending it on rent.”

“These are not luxury units,” Matt agreed.

They walked up the path. Heather lived on the ground floor, and her unit opened directly onto the walkway. Bree and Matt flanked the steel security door, and Bree knocked. A few minutes later, light footsteps quickly approached the door. Bree and Matt stepped back to be fully visible through the peephole. The door was flung open by a woman dressed in yoga pants and sneakers. She was much more attractive than Matt had expected with short blonde hair, smooth skin, and a Marilyn Monroe–like figure.

She eyed Bree’s uniform. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you Heather Oscar?” Bree asked.

Heather nodded. “Yes. What happened?”

Bree glanced around. “May we come inside?”

“Yes, of course.” Heather gently shooed a striped orange cat away from the door. “Get back, Tiger.”

Matt and Bree stepped over the threshold. Matt closed the door behind them. The foyer was a square of tile adjoining the living room. The apartment was well kept, with freshly vacuumed cream-colored carpet and a low gray couch and matching chair.

“What happened?” Heather repeated.

“Eugene Oscar is your ex-husband?” Bree verified.

Heather nodded.

Bree continued. “Eugene’s body was found last night. We’re sorry for your loss.”

Heather didn’t react for a few heartbeats, then asked, “He’s dead?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bree confirmed with one short nod.

Heather raised one hand to cover her mouth. She wrapped the other around her waist. A minute later, she lowered the hand on her mouth to hug her waist. “This is going to sound cold, but why are you here? Eugene and I aren’t married anymore.”

Bree lied without missing a beat. “You’re still listed in his personnel file.”

Technically, Matt thought it probably wasn’t a lie. Heather’s name was probably buried somewhere in Oscar’s file. But it wasn’t the reason for their visit.

Heather seemed to accept the statement. “How did it happen?”

“He was shot,” Bree said.

Heather blinked in surprise. Her head shifted backward. “Was it in the line of duty?”

“No.” Bree’s head tilted. “Eugene retired from the sheriff’s department recently.”

Heather’s eyebrows shot up. “Retired?”

“You didn’t know?” Matt asked.

Heather shook her head. “No. I haven’t seen Eugene in ages.”

“He retired after a big case over the summer.” Bree gave no details.

Matt added, “It was on the news.”

Heather sighed. “I’ve been too busy with work to watch much news lately. I work at the Cross Street Branch of the county library. We had a major water leak back in June. Between the budget, permits, and approvals, county bureaucracy has made the repairs a never-ending nightmare.” She adjusted her ponytail. “I’m supposed to be off today, but we’ll see.”

“Can you be more specific about when you last saw or spoke with Oscar?” Bree pulled out her notepad.

“Not off the top of my head,” Heather said.

Tiger rubbed against Matt’s ankles. He stooped to scratch it behind the ears, and the cat purred loudly. “Nice cat.”

Heather smiled sadly. “I adopted him after the divorce. He’s good company.” The tabby returned to his owner, who scooped him into her arms. His purring grew louder as she held him against her neck. “If Eugene didn’t die at work, then how did it happen?”

“We don’t know.” Matt straightened. “He was killed at his mother’s farm. She was also a victim.”

Heather gasped. “Camilla? Oh, my God. Why would anyone hurt her? She was a little weird, but she had very little interaction with anyone besides Eugene.”

“Did you know Eugene had moved in with her?” Matt asked.

Heather scratched the cat’s head. “No. The last time I spoke with him, he was renting a place over near the railroad. But as I said before, that was quite a while ago.”

Bree made a note. “Did your lawyer handle your alimony?”

“Alimony?” Heather’s brow furrowed. “I never received any alimony from Eugene. Did he say I did?”

“Not to me,” Bree clarified. “But other people said he complained about paying alimony.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised. He was a very good liar.” Heather shook her head. “I didn’t want a nickel from him. I just wanted him gone.”

Bree lifted her pen. “Then why did the divorce take so long?”

“Because he didn’t want to give it to me.” Heather’s mouth tightened.