“Looks like he took a bullet to the back.”
Their eyes met in the darkness. Matt didn’t need light to feel the connection. He wished he could go to her, to share the relief and sadness they were both feeling, to bolster his reserves for the next phase of the search for Todd. Their relief might be premature. Todd could also be dead. But they were on duty. If anyone caught sight of them and took a picture . . .
Her career didn’t need another hit. So Matt held back.
But she crossed the ten feet of damp ground and put her arms around him. He returned the hug, tentatively. “Someone might see,” he said into her ear.
“I don’t care.” She leaned her forehead on his chest. They stood there for a full minute, drawing strength from one another. Finally, she lifted her head and stepped back. Her eyes glimmered with moisture. “Thank you.”
“I needed it too.” Matt touched his own face and was surprised to find it wet. He wiped it on the shoulder of his polo shirt. “Why was Rogers here?”
“He could have been here to help Dylan or to confront him about something.” She turned to stare at the body. “Considering he’s dead, I would bet on the latter.”
“I hope so.” Matt couldn’t believe Rogers would have backslid that far. His bitterness toward Dylan had felt real.
“Me too. Rogers . . .” Bree shook her head. “I don’t know. No point in speculating.”
“Nope.” The only way they’d discover the truth was to get back to the investigation.
Her spine straightened. “We still need to find Todd.”
“Yes. Maybe we can find a clue to his whereabouts in Dylan’s house.” Matt called Brody to heel. “Fuss.”
They headed for the trail to find Collins standing at the base of the slope, her back to them. She’d been blocking the path and giving them privacy, Matt realized, and ensuring no one else saw their embrace.
As they approached, Bree cleared her throat, and Collins turned around. She had a pretty good poker face but couldn’t entirely keep the warmth and respect from her eyes. “What now, ma’am?”
No matter what the press reported, no matter what the brass did, Bree’s deputies would have her back.
“Now we look for other signs of where Dylan could have gone.” Bree whipped out her phone. “I’ll have Marge search property and tax records. If Brian Dylan owns any other properties in the area, she’ll find them. He must have gone somewhere.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
An hour later, Bree sat at Dylan’s desk in his home office. Scratches and bright patches on the desktop indicated where pieces of equipment had been removed. Dylan had been ready. She closed the pencil drawer, frustration adding power to the slam. “Are you having any luck?”
Across the room, Matt looked up from a filing cabinet he’d been searching. “No. All I’ve found is a bunch of useless paperwork. Dylan kept everything, including the instruction manual for a fifteen-year-old leaf blower and the receipt for a lawn mower he bought in 2002.” He closed the drawer.
“We need to ID the girlfriend.” Bree dragged a hand over her face.
Matt scratched his jaw. “Shane could only describe her as a large-breasted older lady. He didn’t even say large, just that they were nice.”
“Which describes a third of the female adult population of New York State.”
The clock was ticking. The longer Todd was missing, the less likely it was they’d find him alive.
Her phone vibrated, and she checked the screen. Marge.
She answered. “Did you find anything?”
“No.” Marge sounded tired, not just physically, but emotionally drained. “I can’t find any property in the area owned by Brian Dylan. I’ll keep expanding my search. Just wanted to give you an update.”
“Damn.” Bree thought about Shane’s description of Dylan’s lady friend. Older woman. Nice tits. An image of Heather Oscar popped into her head. “Try Heather Oscar.”
Bree ended the call.
“You think Dylan was sleeping with Heather Oscar?” Matt asked.
“I was thinking of Shane’s description of Dylan’s woman. I admit I’m reaching, but Heather is attractive and in good shape for her age. Oscar and Dylan were friends for years. Heather and Dylan could have met.”
“We should have thought of her.”
“No evidence pointed to her. We still don’t have any evidence to implicate her. A twenty-one- year-old’s description of nice tits doesn’t cut it.” But Bree was getting desperate to find Todd.