“I don’t remember there being any mention of Frankie being pregnant when she disappeared, do you?” Jude asked Fitz.
“There was no mention of a baby anywhere in the case file. I have to think that people might have gone easier on her if they’d known she was going to be a mother.” Fitz shook his head and stared down at the child’s remains.
Ronan took a sharp breath. Cope knew he was thinking about Everly. “Is there anything else you can tell us that will help find the person who did this?”
“Not at this time. I received word from Cisco Jackson that he’s sending a cadet class from the local police academy to scour the area for more of the remains and for the bullet. It’s possible that it struck a tree and is still embedded there.”
“What about DNA,” Ronan asked.
“We’ve got a sample of Frankie’s DNA on file. We’ve identified her through dental records, so there was no need to try to sample Mrs. Adams’s DNA.”
“That’s great,” Ronan said. “But I was asking about the baby. Were you able to get a sample of her DNA?”
The doctor paused. His giant eyes blinked several times as if he were trying to figure out why Ronan would ask such a question. It was glaringly obvious who the child’s mother was.
Ronan took a step closer to Doctor Dobbs, as if he were about to tell the man a secret. “We need to know if the father was Oliver Adams or someone else. Murders are committed over a lot less, but finding out your wife is pregnant with another man’s child could have been the catalyst that started the events in motion.”
“Understood. I’ll try to get a sample of the child’s DNA as well. I’ll copy Captain Fitzgibbon on the results.”
“Much appreciated,” Fitzgibbon said. “Any other questions?” He’d asked the group, but Fitz’s eyes were on Cope.
“I’m good. Thank you,” Cope said. Without waiting for the others, he walked out of the autopsy suite and headed for the elevator where he braced his hands on his knees and took great gulps of air.
“Are you sick?” Jude asked, running up to Cope.
“No.” Cope stood up straight. “Just the thought of what Ameila went through. It was too much for me.”
“Who’s Amelia?” Ronan asked, looking as if he didn’t want to know the answer.
“Frankie’s baby. It was her grandmother’s name. She was so excited to name her daughter after her belovedNonna.”
“Were you able to connect with Francesca?” Ronan asked.
“No. I think we’ll have more luck when we go meet with Oliver. I have a feeling we’ll find Frankie with her loving husband.”
“Are you being sarcastic?” Fitz shot Cope a confused look.
“Yeah,” Cope agreed. “When we met with Oliver this morning, I couldn’t tell if he was genuinely upset about Frankie’s remains being found or if he was love bombing us so we’d think he was broken up. Seeing Oliver face to face will tell the tale.”
“Let’s go talk to him.” Ronan grinned. “Do you need to stop and eat something in order to refuel?”
“Yeah, I could go for a big greasy burger and fries.” Cope’s eyes lit up with anticipation.
“Me too,” Fitz agreed. “First food. Then we’ll go have a little chat with Oliver Adams.”
Cope followed the detectives back to the SUV. He hoped for Frankie’s sake that Oliver wasn’t the one who’d murdered her. He’d spoken to his fair share of spirits who weren’t able to let go of the love they had for the partners who killed them. Was Frankie another in that long line? Or was her killer someone else? A lover. A jealous coworker. A friend. A parent.
Cope didn’t know the answer, but he wasn’t going to rest until he did.
5
Jude
After a huge lunch at Ronan’s favorite local diner, Bub’s Grub, they were on the road to Oliver Adams’s house. He and Ronan had argued over whether they should call ahead so Oliver would know they were coming. Jude said yes, Ronan no. Fitz settled the matter. No call. It wasn’t a surprise they were going to see Oliver. It was only a matter of when they’d show up to interview the grieving husband.
Fitzgibbon took left and right turns as Ronan called out the directions. Cope would have known which house was Oliver’s without the help of Google maps. It was the one surrounded by members of the media. News vans were parked as far down the street as the eye could see. Also in the crowd were angry citizens with signs calling Oliver a killer and worse.
Jude noticed there were three vehicles in the driveway. One was a large red pickup truck, the second a gold BMW, which he knew belonged to Reagan Pryce, the other was a pint sized Chevy, which was attached to a charging station. “Who does the tree hugging hippie car belong to?”
