The sister nodded. Tears filled her eyes and a few escaped down her cheek. She swiped them away. “I think it had to do with me.”
“You?”
“I got into trouble five years ago, when I was in college in Nashville. I was arrested for dealing. I was holding a lot when they caught me. Enough that I faced felony charges. I was in a panic. The arresting officer told me I could go to prison for twenty years. I called my sister as soon as they offered me a phone. Deidre had just made detective in Vice.”
Good cops went bad for a lot of reasons. Sometimes it was money or greed. Sometimes the motivations were cold and calculating. “You told Deidre about the dealing?”
“Yes. I told her I was scared. I told her the local cops had evidence that would put me away for years. I cried. Deidre didn’t say anything for a long, long time. She then asked if I’d be willing to go to rehab if she helped me.”
“Did you agree?” Alex asked.
“I swore I would. Of course I’d sworn before, but in that moment, I really meant it.”
Tension banded in Alex’s chest as he wondered what he’d do to help a sibling.
“Deidre said she would help me. She asked for the arresting officer’s name. And I gave it to her.”
“What happened?”
Joy threaded her fingers together. “She told me to sit tight. She’d call me soon.”
“And she came through?” Alex asked.
“Yeah. She came through. About five hours later, she told me the evidence was gone. I was free. She drove me straight to rehab and I stayed for sixty days.” She raised her chin. “I haven’t used since.”
“Why do you think this relates to her death?” Deke asked.
“Like I said, Deidre was upset when we were talking on the phone. She was actually afraid of a past mistake. I asked her about it, and when she wouldn’t answer, I knew it had to do with my arrest. She was so by the book. She wouldn’t have bent the rules, except for me.”
“And she told you she was going to fix this problem?” Alex asked.
“Yes. I asked Deidre how, but she told me not to worry about it. I asked her if there were anything I could do, and she said she’d figure it out. Said not to worry. She was gonna kill two birds with one stone. Said not to worry.”
“Do you know what that means?”
“I don’t know. I wish I did. I might have been able to save her.” She glanced toward the park, as if wondering where her sister would be if she’d taken a different path.
Did it all go back to Joy’s case and the missing evidence? “Do you remember the name of the arresting officer?”
“Yeah. I’ll never forget it. Philip Latimer.”
Alex had returned to his office immediately and done a search on Philip Latimer. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Latimer had been married to Leah, and Deidre had sought Leah out. Pieces of the puzzle didn’t quite connect, but they had moved closer.
It didn’t take much digging for Latimer’s name to pop. He’d been a cop in Nashville for eight years, and he’d served with distinction. He’d also been disciplined after his estranged wife had filed stalking charges against him. According to statements, Latimer had sworn he’d lay off the wife. Tensions had appeared to ease, and then Latimer had broken into his wife’s apartment and tried to stab her to death. He’d eluded the cops and gotten out of Tennessee. He’d died in a car accident three weeks later in South Carolina.
How had Latimer gotten out of town? Did he have help?
Deidre had said she’d clean up her sister’s legal mess. Had she’d figured she’d approach Latimer and ask for a favor?
Alex had no proof that Deidre had ever contacted Latimer, but a connection was logical. Another puzzle piece.
Several calls to the Nashville Police Department earned him the files that detailed Leah’s stabbing. Within an hour, he was staring at the graphic images of her bedroom sprayed bright red with her blood. It could have been Deidre’s crime scene.
Leah. Nervous around people. No damn wonder.
He had seen his share of Philip Latimers in the world. Fucked-up bullies who preyed on the vulnerable. Manipulation began with guilt, then harsh words, physical abuse and, all too often, murder.
He was sorry the guy had died in the car accident. It would have been a pleasure to deal with him personally.
He dialed dispatch and left word for the officer who’d responded to Leah’s attack to call back. He wanted to talk. An hour later, Alex’s phone rang.
“Officer Boyle,” Alex said. He reached across his desk and pulled over a legal-size pad for notes. “What can you tell me about the Leah Carson Latimer case? It was a domestic violence attack. Four years ago. The attacker was a Nashville cop. Philip Latimer.”
“Shit. That was a long time ago, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.” He sighed. “The husband worked for the county as a patrol officer. I even crossed paths with him a few times. Seemed like a good guy.”
“When did the stalking start?”
“Right after they separated.”
“According to her complaints, it was unrelenting.”
“It was. And she filed for a restraining order against him. Of course we’d been notified, but when Latimer’s boss talked to him, he swore he’d back off. And he did for a few days.” Another sigh full of regrets. “We shouldn’t have believed him. She’d made such a good case with her journaling. Great eye for detail. Never had a victim keep such detailed records.” A chair squeaked in the background, as if he leaned back. “I heard Latimer died in a car accident.”
“That’s what his wife told me.”
“So why the call?”
“His name came up in another case. Apparently, he crossed paths with Deidre Jones a few years ago.”
“The detective who was stabbed?”
“Yeah.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Like I said, he’s dead.”
“Did Latimer have any friends or family that would have resented Leah Carson for filing charges?”
“There were some officers in his department who didn’t believe her. Latimer did a good job of painting her as hysterical and unstable. But when he stabbed her, well, there was little to argue. All his support was immediately withdrawn after that.”
“You sure he didn’t have any faithful followers?”
“None that hit my radar. I can ask around. Where’s Leah Latimer—I mean, Carson?”
“She’s back in Nashville. Works as a vet.”
“How’s she doing?”
“She’s doing well.”
A heavy silence lingered. “That’s good. She was a mess after the attack. Hell of a lot of rehab. But from what I heard, she was pretty determined to get on with her life.”
He thought about her running through the park in the early morning rain. One foot in front of the other. “Is there anyone who knew her then that I could talk to? Anyone who would have known her or Philip during that time?”
“You’ve got my files. I don’t remember names, but there was an adviser at school who went out of her way to help her.”
Alex rustled through the case file. “Dr. Susan Miller was her adviser. That her?”
“She’s the one. Give her a call.”
Alex hung up and dialed Dr. Miller’s cell. On the third ring, there was a breathless, “Hello.”
“Dr. Miller?”
“Yes.”
“This is Agent Alex Morgan with the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation.”
“It’s after ten, Agent Morgan.”
“I’m sorry for the late hour.” He explained the reason for the call.
“Leah Carson.” In the background, he could hear pots and pans rattling and water running. The water turned off and the pots stilled. “She was one of my favorite students. Smart. Great with animals. Is this about her ex-husband?”
“Yes.”
“Why’re you asking? God, he made her life awful. I hope he’s burning in hell.”
Fury had him sitting straighter. “What was she like before the troubles?”
“Lots of fun, outgoing. She had to delay leaving for Knoxville for a year so she took a couple of courses here. After the attack, she changed. Became very guarded and withdrawn. But you have to understand, she endured a brutal attack. Post-traumatic stress would be a normal reaction.”