“He holds her, feeds her, doesn’t abuse her but doesn’t kill her. Why?”
No one had an answer. Yet.
“And Smith never mentioned this Robbie guy before?” Santos asked.
Brody thought back to the hours of Smith’s testimony. The old man had savored the attention after his arrest and had enjoyed sharing what he’d done. “During all the hours of confession, Smith never once mentioned Robbie.”
Santos shook his head. “Saying he did get a hold of this kid when he was twelve. Can you imagine how many ways that old bastard could twist a kid’s mind?”
“The kid would easily come to believe that this is a sick kind of normal.”
Dr. Watterson completed his internal examination and closed up Christa Bogart’s body. “I’ll run a tox screen and see what comes of it. But it’s clear from the dirt in her stomach and lungs. She was buried alive.”
Winchester and Santos’s first stop after leaving the medical examiner’s office was Austin Police. They met with Detective Tom Royals, who’d handled the initial investigation on Christa Bogart. They joined Royals in a small conference room with a round table and metal chairs. Royals, a stocky man with a thick mustache and glasses, set a thick file on the table.
Royals opened the file. “Where’d you find her?” He pushed the file toward Brody.
Brody thumbed through the thick file. “Buried in the ground on a farm about fifteen miles west of Austin.” He recapped the details.
Royals sat back, shaking his head. “Shit. And you found three other bodies in the same location?”
“Those murders are much older and we believe Smith killed them. Christa’s body caught us by surprise. What can you tell us about her?”
“Worked as a secretary for a financial firm. Engaged to be married. No priors. Lots of friends. Well liked by coworkers. The night she vanished she’d come home from an office party. Checked in with her roommate, went into her room and vanished. I interviewed her roommate for hours, but she couldn’t give us any real leads. We found footprints near Christa’s window, but we haven’t connected them to anyone yet.”
“What about the fiancé?”
“Solid guy. Worked for the same financial management company. That’s how they met. Well liked and respected by peers. We dug into his past. Nothing popped up.”
“He have an alibi for the night Christa vanished?”
“He and Christa had been at the same party and when she left he stayed to drink with some of his coworkers. The bartender placed him on site until two in the morning.”
After another half hour of discussing the case with Royals, Brody and Santos left, starting their investigation at Christa’s apartment where her roommate still lived.
Winchester knocked on the front door. Several seconds passed before the shuffle of feet and the scrape of several locks against the front door. A young, short, stocky woman with blue-black shoulder-length hair greeted them.
Both Rangers showed their badges, and the girl nodded as if she’d done this a thousand times in the last four weeks. “Miss Brittany Long?”
The girl surveyed the two men carefully. “You’re the Rangers. The police called and said you’d be coming by to see me. Come on in.”
After an introduction, the Rangers walked into a small living room filled with half-packed boxes. One bedroom door was open but the other was closed and sealed with yellow crime scene tape.
“You moving?” Winchester asked.
“Yes,” Brittany said. “I wanted to leave right after Christa vanished, but the landlord wouldn’t let me out of the lease. See, I signed for both of us, which meant I was on the hook for the entire rent. I did all I could to get out of here but he said no, and I couldn’t afford all this rent and another place. Now my lease is up at the end of the week and I’m leaving. Rented another place across town that I’m sharing with several girls.”
“What can you tell us about the night Christa vanished?” Santos asked.
Brittany pushed her hands through her hair. “Didn’t the other cops tell you?”
“They did, ma’am. But it wouldn’t hurt to hear it one more time.”
Brittany shrugged. “I’m so tired of telling this story.”
Brody thought about Christa’s body lying on the gurney in the medical examiner’s office. When he spoke his voice had a sharp edge. “One more time for our sake.”
“It was a regular night. She was at a party with Scott, the guy she’s going to marry. The party had to do with her job. It was an anniversary party, I think. Ten years in business. Anyway, after it broke up she came home, and her fiancé went out drinking with some of the guys at the firm.”
“What time did she get home?” Winchester asked.
“Midnight. And I remember the time because I was up reading. I heard her come into the apartment and looked at the clock. She poked her head inside my room, said good night and went to bed. I shut off my light and fell asleep. That was the last time I saw her.”
“Any unusual sounds that night?” Santos asked.
“No. But I must have been extra tired that night because I slept like the dead.”
“Mind if we have a look in her room?” Brody’s question sounded like an order.
“Sure. The cops have been through it so many times it doesn’t resemble the way Christa kept it.”
“Her family or friends haven’t tried to claim her belongings?” Santos asked.
“No. Her sister, Ester, was clear she didn’t want the room touched. She gave me cash for the rent and asked me to leave it be. I took the money and was happy to stay clear of the room.”
“I thought you said you couldn’t leave because you had both rents to pay,” Brody said.
“I kinda spent the cash on new clothes, thinking the landlord would let me out. But he was a hard-ass about it.” She shook her head. “I should have given him the money and left. Looking at the tape on her door gives me the creeps.”
Brody pulled the tape free and opened the door to a slim, narrow room. The room had a double bed on the far wall by the window, a desk to the right and bookshelves to the left. Christa had lived in a low-rise building in a first-floor unit that faced a back parking lot. Gray gauze curtains that matched a flowered bedspread covered double windows.
He pushed back the curtains and stared out the back window, overlooking a small parking lot rimmed by trees. He studied the lock and flicked it with his thumb, noting it was easily moved.
“Did she sleep with the window open?”
“Not normally,” Brittany said from the doorway
. “But the heater was on overdrive that night, and we were about to cook. I had my window open and suggested she do the same. It was cold as hell outside, and it didn’t occur to either of us that it would be a problem. I mean what kind of nut runs around in subzero weather?” Her full lips compressed with tension as if she would forever replay that last bit of advice to Christa. “She was supposed to be married in two weeks.”
Brody checked his notes. “What do you think of the guy she was marrying?”
“I didn’t really like him. He was kinda possessive with Christa. But he’s been great since all this happened. When a local Realtor organized the Find Christa! campaign, he searched right along with Christa’s sister. He’s called me a few times to see how I’m doing. Not the ass I first thought.”
“What specifically didn’t you like about him?” Santos said as he studied a bulletin board filled with pictures, ticket stubs and restaurant carryout menus. “You said ‘possessive.’”
“He didn’t like sharing her. When she first moved in we ran around town together and had a blast. After he came into her life, she wasn’t around anymore. But that happens, doesn’t it? Girl meets a guy, they’re all into him and they fall off the friend radar.”
“Anything else bother you about him?”
“He didn’t hit her or yell at her, but he let her pick up the tab a lot when they went out. He never had his wallet or enough cash.”
“He was a financial planner at the firm?”
“Yeah. Made big bucks. But was forgetful, I guess. She came from a family with money and would have inherited on the day she married.”
“And he was involved in the search?” Brody said.
She folded her arms over her chest. “Yeah. He really seemed torn up.”
“He dated since Christa vanished?” Santos said.
She shook her head. “No. I mean it’s only been a month. But yeah, I guess not all guys wait that long.” She frowned. “He’s not dating, as far as I know.”