“That would only show that your phone was here,” Matt said.
“Damn.” Kenny looked toward the door. “The driveway goes right by Mrs. Weir’s bedroom. She would have seen me if I took the car out.”
“But her eyesight is terrible,” Bree repeated Kenny’s own words. “And she wears a hearing aid. I assume she takes it out when she’s sleeping.”
Kenny threw up his hands. Anger raised a vein in the side of his neck. “Then I don’t fucking know.” He lowered his hands. “Wait. You have to prove I wasn’t here. If you want to falsify evidence, we all know you can, but I won’t make it easy for you.”
Bree ignored the suggestion and changed topics. “When was the last time you spoke to Deputy Oscar?”
“He testified at the trial and at my parole hearing. It was his fault I was denied early release the first time. He didn’t show for the second. I guess he had something else to do.” Kenny punched one hand hard with the other, his frustration clearly building. “How’d he die?”
Matt noted that Kenny said he, not they. If he was lying, he was consistent.
“Both Oscar and his mother were shot,” Bree said.
“His mother?” Kenny fell back a step. “His mother was shot too?”
“Yes.” Matt tapped his forehead. “She was shot in the head.”
Kenny held up both hands. He looked stricken. “What the fuck? She had to be old. Who kills an old lady? I would never do that. That’s a really shitty thing to do.”
Matt agreed, but was Kenny protesting too much? “Do you know where Oscar lived?”
Kenny shook his head.
“You were never tempted to find him after you got out of prison?” Matt let his question sound skeptical. “You never wanted to get even?”
“Why would I go looking for trouble?” Kenny asked.
“If you’re really innocent,” Bree said, “then he took years from your life. He hurt you financially. You lost your house, right? Your car. Your dignity. He took your future from you. You will never get that life back to the way it was.”
Kenny’s chin came up. “I don’t want to give him the chance to ruin the rest of it. I have a new lawyer who says he’s found a pattern of behavior with those two dudes. We’re going to sue the hell out of the county. My plan is to get some money and move far away from this place. Then I can start over somewhere else. I never want to see him—or Grey’s Hollow—again.”
Matt shot him a knowing look. “Well, now you won’t have to worry about Deputy Oscar’s testimony. That’s convenient.”
Kenny shut down. “That’s it. I’m done. I tried to cooperate with you, but you’re clearly going to try and screw me over again. If you want to ask me any more questions, I want my lawyer present.”
Bree pulled a business card out of her pocket and handed it to Kenny. “If you need to reach me for any reason, here are my numbers.”
Kenny took the card and tossed it onto the futon. “I don’t know anything. Are you going to arrest me?”
“No, but we’re going to search your apartment,” Bree said.
Matt glanced around. Wouldn’t take long.
“Fine.” Kenny huffed. “There’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Nope,” Matt said.
Bree nodded to Matt. “You keep an eye on him. I’ll search.” She stopped the recording and fished Kenny’s cell phone out of her pocket. “Your passcode?”
Frowning, he gave it to her. Bree scrolled. “Who’s Quentin?”
“My boss,” he said in a flat voice.
She nodded, then handed him his phone and turned to survey the room.
Taking the phone, Kenny went stiff as steel, and he seemed to be holding his breath.
She began with a small chest of drawers, checked the single kitchen cabinet, then the bathroom. Dropping to her knees, she used a flashlight to look under the futon. Straightening, she lifted each cushion and examined the seams. The floor was a solid sheet of vinyl. None of the baseboards seemed loose. The entire search took ten minutes.
Bree brushed her hands on her cargo pants. “OK, Kenny. I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and ignore the fact that you ran away.”
Kenny exhaled and relaxed.
She stepped closer. “But if we come back to ask you follow-up questions, don’t run.”
Kenny nodded but said nothing as they backed away.
Matt and Bree returned to the car. Bree sat in the driver’s seat, staring out the windshield. “His apartment was clean. No weapon. His phone showed very little activity over the last two weeks, just a few texts and calls with Mrs. Weir and his boss. What do you think?”
Matt considered Kenny’s reactions. “Oscar’s death seemed to take him by surprise.”
Bree put the vehicle into gear. “And he was really thrown by Camilla’s.”
“Is he smart enough to successfully pull off a double homicide?”
“Maybe he’s a good actor, and he’s playing dumb.” Bree glanced at the house in the rearview mirror. “He has no alibi, great motive, and a quick temper. He ran the instant Mrs. Weir warned him we were here. He barely kept his cool with us and we didn’t even push him that hard.”
“Let’s assume for a minute that Oscar faked those charges. Why did he do it? It took work to pull that off. Oscar was lazy. He must have had a reason to go through all that effort.”
“Good question. Maybe Brian Dylan can give us an answer,” Bree said. “It’s also possible that Kenny ran because he’s guilty.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Behind the wheel of her SUV, Bree listened in as Matt called a buddy who still worked for the Scarlet Falls PD.
After a brief conversation, he lowered the phone. “Brian Dylan worked for the SFPD until a few weeks ago, when he was fired after arresting a teenage girl. The girl claimed he slapped her. Dylan said the girl was resisting arrest, but since he’d turned off his body camera, it was his word against hers.”
“Body cameras are mandated by the SFPD.” Bree had included cameras for all her deputies in her budget proposal. Thankfully, no one was objecting to them, because they were one of Bree’s nonnegotiable items.
“That’s right, and Dylan turned his off. The police chief in Scarlet Falls doesn’t put up with that sort of behavior. The charges against the girl were dropped, and Dylan was fired.”
“Sounds like I should be glad Dylan left the sheriff’s department.”
“Definitely.”
“Do you know his address?” Bree asked.
Matt nodded. “He’s on the edge of the county, out near the national forest.” He plugged the address into the GPS. The automated voice told them to head west on the highway. “My buddy said Dylan was furious at being let go.”
“He quit the sheriff’s department just before I took over, so I’ve never met him.” Bree pulled up to a stop sign, then made a left. “You worked with him?”
“I did. I never saw him do anything, but there were always rumors of him behaving inappropriately. I remember him being very tight with the old sheriff. Dylan’s father was a deputy, killed in the line of duty when Dylan was a kid. There’s a plaque in the hallway.”
Bree felt bad she didn’t remember the man’s name. “That sucks.”
“Yes, but it made him kind of a legacy in the department. I was surprised when he quit. Todd will know more.”
“Let’s call him. I didn’t have a chance to ask him earlier.” Bree made the call to her chief deputy with her hands-free connection. After he’d answered, she asked, “Tell me about Brian Dylan.”
Todd’s sigh was audible over the Bluetooth speakers. “I was glad to see his back when he quit.”
“Did he have complaints in his personnel file?” Bree asked.
“No, but he should have,” Todd said. “He was one of the old sheriff’s favorites.”
Bree asked, “Because of his father?”
“Yes, but people he arrested ended up with unexplained bruises.”
“Let me guess,” Bree said. “A lot of people resisted arrest when Dylan took them into custody.”
“You know it,” Todd said with disgust. “The old sheriff approved of heavy-handed tactics.”
“Do you know why he quit the sheriff’s department?” she asked.