Seth would walk through the house again today now that he had a warrant, but felt sure he wouldn’t find the weapon. The garage was his best possibility, but he’d looked in the window and guessed Ms. Boyd, at least, went in there only to retrieve the lawn mower and return it when she was finished cutting the grass.
He was at the real estate office when it opened, where he started with the victim’s coworkers, all horrified by the news of Andrea’s death. He was assured that she was likable, charming, energetic, with the best sales record in the office. He also learned that she didn’t work on the property management side of the business.
The owner of the office, a woman in her fifties, explained that Andrea had sold a couple of properties for a man named Dean Ziegler, as well as a house to him, and as a favor had agreed to manage his rentals. At Seth’s request, Tina Daley dug in the records, reporting that Ziegler owned an apartment house with ten units and three rental homes.
The only key to any of those units missing was the one Seth had collected as evidence.
Andrea’s assistant, a young woman in her twenties named Brooke Perry, insisted she’d have known if Andrea had received a phone call about a problem at one of the rental homes.
“The only reason I can imagine she’d have been there was if the renter had asked to see her.” Her forehead creased. “Or if Mr. Ziegler wanted to meet her, or insisted she inspect the house, I suppose. But I really think she’d have said if he’d called.” She hesitated. “I was surprised when she left at five thirty. That was early for her.”
“Did she say anything about where she was going?”
Brooke bit her lip. “She said something like, ‘I don’t have any appointments, and anything else can wait for tomorrow.’”
A tomorrow that would never come for her.
Seth asked for Ziegler’s number and address. The man was evidently retired as a vice president with a local bank. Seth called, found he was home and drove to a spectacular Tuscan-style mansion on a bluff above the river. Turning, he saw Mount Hood seemingly hovering almost near enough to touch, too. Hell of a view all around.
Ziegler turned out to be a slim, silver-haired man who was well-preserved for the seventy-three years old the DMV records said he was.
“I’m shocked,” he repeated several times. “Why would anyone want to hurt Andrea? She’s good at her job because people like her.”
Once they were seated in an enormous living room with gleaming wood floors and a wall of windows looking out at the river, he spread his hands and said, “Tell me how I can help you.”
Seth couldn’t decide how genuine that was, but explained that, at this point, he was trying to get to know the victim, in a manner of speaking. “Hobbies, friends, any problems in her life, of course.”
“Problems? I really don’t think she had any. Well, maybe two.” Ziegler smiled wryly. “Both teenagers.”
“The stepkids.”
“Defiant fifteen-year-old boy, sulky thirteen-year-old girl.” He shrugged. “My sense is that she actually had an okay relationship with them. She’d laugh telling me about them. They’re just at difficult ages.”
Fifteen-year-old boys had been known to kill before...but to follow a stepmother to a house where she wasn’t supposed to be, then take her down with a single, powerful blow? Seth didn’t believe it.
“I’ve met her husband a few times,” Ziegler continued. “Nice guy. Did you know he’s in banking, too? Manages a branch here in town.”
Seth did know that. It had crossed his mind that a real estate agent and a banker could be up to something questionable together, but again...why was Andrea at the rental? In fact, trespassing in it?
“Andrea did have a certain reserve,” Ziegler commented. “I sometimes thought she had to work at being as outgoing as she appeared to her clients.” He frowned. “I do believe her warmth was genuine, and she and Russ had a connection those of us who’ve been divorced three times can only envy.”
Seth left a card and asked the guy to call if he thought of anything that might be helpful in uncovering the reason she’d been targeted.