Seconds to Live(87)

“Why would Adam report his wife missing and call us to find her if he killed her?” Horner paced the room.

“The ME suspects Dena was a victim of domestic abuse.” Stella filled him in on the ME’s findings.

Horner shook his head. “There’s no way to prove that Adam inflicted that damage on his wife. I still like Noah Spivak for the murders. He was hanging out at the church, and he has priors. Adam Miller’s record is clean.”

“But Gianna saw Adam outside the church the night Missy disappeared,” Stella insisted.

Horner’s face reddened. “The word of a junkie doesn’t mean much. You and Lance saw Spivak outside a meeting. That’s a better link.”

“Gianna Leone is a former addict,” Stella said.

“She was a drug addict and prostitute. A jury wouldn’t take her word over Adam Miller’s.” Horner didn’t care, but Stella knew he was right. No one would believe Gianna.

“I want to bring Adam Miller in for questioning.”

“No.” Horner straightened his tie.

“But I have another member of his wife’s Narcotics Anonymous group who says she saw him hanging around outside the meetings, and two additional people claimed he constantly checked up on his wife. I think he was stalking her.”

“Why would he have to stalk his own wife? They lived together.”

“Because he was controlling,” Stella reasoned. “He checked her phone. Called her dozens of times a day. He made her submit to home urine tests for drug use, and it’s likely he beat her as well. He didn’t like her to have friends. Maybe he saw her with Gianna and Missy and got jealous.”

“Adam Miller’s attorney isn’t going to let him be dragged in here repeatedly.” Horner jabbed a finger in the air at Stella. “You have no actual evidence he did anything to his wife. I want you to focus on building a case against Spivak. We need a search warrant for his vehicle and parents’ house. That is your job today. We have a few hundred tips that came in on the hotline. Maybe one of Spivak’s low-life friends will turn on him for the cash.”

“But if Gianna was kidnapped this morning, Spivak couldn’t have done it. He’s in custody,” Stella said. “And Dena wasn’t killed until six p.m. at the earliest on Thursday. Spivak was in custody a little after nine. That leaves six to nine p.m. as the window of time for him to have placed her body in the park. It wouldn’t have been dark yet.”

“It’s still possible. Kidnapping her in broad daylight was bold, too.” Horner’s phone rang. He answered it, his face darkening as he listened. Hanging up, he stood. “Spivak is out on bail.”

“What?”

“Apparently the judge granted him bail late yesterday. A high-powered attorney showed up and convinced the judge we didn’t have enough to deny bail. He’s filing a counter suit for excessive force, claiming he was pursued for no reason and had his face slammed into a brick wall.”

Stella winced. That actually did happen.

“Excessive force won’t be tolerated,” Horner said. “We’re lucky no one recorded the incident for YouTube.”

“This morning Mac and I learned that Spivak is a member of the White Survival Alliance. Let’s see if we can find other members. He might be hiding with them.” Stella’s phone buzzed. She glanced at the display. “It’s Mrs. Green. I have to take this.” Grateful for the moment to regroup, she stepped out of the conference room and answered the call.

“Stella?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Stella put her finger in her other ear to block out the hum of voices. She ducked into an empty interview room and closed the door. “What can I do for you?”

“This is going to sound silly, and I hate to bother you . . .”

“You’re not bothering me.”

“I went to the medical examiner’s office today.” Mrs. Green’s breath hitched then steadied. “I signed papers to have Missy picked up by a funeral home, and I picked up her things.”

Sorrow enveloped Stella. That poor woman. No one should have to bury her child. “I’m sorry you had to do that. I would have gone with you.”

“My sister is here. She took me.” Mrs. Green sniffed. “But they didn’t have Missy’s patron saint medal. She never took it off. I gave it to her the day she came out of rehab. St. Maximilian Kolbe is the patron saint of drug addicts. I was wondering if you had it.”

Stella froze, remembering the pendant in Spivak’s pocket. “Can you describe it?”

“I have a picture of Missy wearing it on my phone. I’ll text it to you.”