In Too Deep Page 2

  “Adam.” Anissa’s voice came through the earpiece he was wearing. “You might as well go ahead and call Sabrina.”

  Dr. Sabrina Fleming was a local professor of cybersecurity and computer forensics.

  “What did you find?” Adam asked.

  “A laptop.”

  The Carrington County Sheriff’s Office had a wonderful forensics team, and they did great work, but Sabrina had a lab filled with all the latest equipment as well as everything that would be needed to attempt to pull any information from the waterlogged computer.

  “I’ll send her a text now.” Adam retrieved his phone from his bag. He didn’t need to look her up in his contacts. He had her number memorized.

  She responded immediately.

  “Anissa,” Adam said, “she can come now. How long will it be before you bring it up?” Underwater criminal investigators never removed anything from the water. The laptop would need to be placed in a special box filled with lake water. Recovering anything from the hard drive was actually harder if it dried out improperly.

  “Tell her to come on,” Anissa said. “We’ll have it ready.”

  Adam fought the grin that tried to cross his lips. This wasn’t the time for it. Someone had died. But at least he’d get to see Sabrina this afternoon.

  A shower of gravel drew his attention to the steep incline surrounding him. He gave Dr. Sharon Oliver, medical examiner, a nod as she inched her way down the embankment to the body. “Weren’t you on call last weekend?” he asked her.

  She let out a huff as she set her bag down beside the body. “I was. And I will be on call for the next two weeks while Dr. Sherman enjoys his thirty-fifth anniversary by traipsing all over Europe.”

  Adam laughed. She sounded put out, but he knew she wasn’t. “You’re just jealous.”

  She flashed him a wicked grin. “You got that right.”

  “All right, honey,” she said, addressing the victim. “Let’s see what you can tell me, and then let’s get you away from prying eyes.”

  Gabe approached the body and snapped pictures as Dr. Oliver examined it. “I assume you’re talking about our hovering friends?” He glared at the heavens, where a news helicopter was circling.

  “Indeed,” she said.

  Adam studied the surface of the water, thankful he had an excuse to look away from the body.

  But Gabe’s low whistle was hard to disregard.

  “Um, Campbell?”

  Adam tried to ignore Gabe, but he didn’t want to be unprofessional. “What?” He didn’t turn.

  “You may want to see this.”

  Jerk. Gabe knew how he felt about dead bodies. Everyone knew. He couldn’t look at one without seeing Aaron. “I’m watching Anissa and—”

  “Adam.” Gabe’s tone was . . . off. What was going on?

  He kept his eyes on the water but backed toward the body. “What is it?”

  Gabe clapped a hand on his back. “I’ll watch the water. You need to talk to the doc.”

  “Wha—”

  Gabe shook his head and then nodded toward the body.

  Adam made eye contact with the doctor. She pointed to the victim. Why were they so insistent that he look at a dead body?

  Fine.

  Lord, help me.

  He glanced at the victim.

  Then stared.

  There, written in permanent marker on the victim’s abdomen, were six words.

  They killed me. Ask Adam Campbell.

  Sabrina slowed her MINI Cooper as she neared the police barricade at the double bridges over Lake Porter. A young deputy, hand raised, approached her car.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. You’ll need to follow the detour signs and go around.”

  She handed him a business card. “Investigator Campbell called me,” she said. Where was Adam? He was always so courteous. She couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t met her at the police barricade and escorted her through.

  Technically, she didn’t need to collect the evidence. This dive team knew what they were doing. She’d never received evidence from them that hadn’t been properly handled. No laptops in plastic bags. No flash drives in Styrofoam. No one ever took a hair dryer and tried to dry out a cell phone before sending it her way.

  She could trust them. She did trust them.

  She also liked them.

  A lot.

  Some more than others.

  Her friend list was short. When she added people to it, she made it a point to try to keep them there. And it was always a good idea to help out your friends. That’s why she’d jumped at the chance to pick up the laptop. At least, that was her story and she was sticking to it.

  The deputy smiled. “Give me a minute, ma’am.” He ducked under the police tape and signaled to someone. A few moments later Gabe Chavez appeared on the other side of the tape and waved for her to come through.

  She fought the disappointment that Adam didn’t greet her, pasted on a smile, and nodded.

  The deputy returned and showed her where to park her car, then he escorted her to where Gabe stood, arms crossed.

  “Hi, Doc. Sorry to bother you on a Sunday.” Gabe gave her a tight smile.

  “It’s no problem.” She couldn’t stop her eyes from scanning the scene below. Where was Adam? Was he under the water?

  “You want to scramble down there? Or would you rather me bring the box up to you? I don’t mind,” Gabe said.

  “I’ll come down if that’s okay,” she said.

  “Sure thing. Be careful. It’s steep.”

  She eased her way down the side of the hill.

  “At least you’re dressed for it,” Gabe said as they made their descent. “Nice shirt. I haven’t seen that one. Is it new?”

  This was one of the things she liked about the dive team. They didn’t give her grief about her standard uniform—superhero T-shirts with skinny jeans and Converse tennis shoes. “Old. I’ve had it about ten years,” she said.

  “Cool. Pretty boy showed up dressed for church. Probably ruined his expensive shoes.”

  Sabrina ignored the pretty boy comment. She hadn’t been too sure about Gabe when she first met him earlier this year. She’d bristled each time he’d made a snide remark about one of his co-workers. It had taken a while, but she’d finally realized many of his comments were meant as jokes and had no malice behind them. Adam liked Gabe and enjoyed working with him, so that was good enough for her.

  “Sunday lunch with the family?” Sabrina asked.

  “Yep.”

  Poor Adam. He had a love-hate relationship with those lunches. Loved the people. Hated the drama.

  “Is he in the water?” She tried to keep the question light. It wasn’t unreasonable for her to ask, especially since Adam had called her.

  “Um, no.”

  At Gabe’s words, she stopped watching her feet and looked at him. She should have picked up on it before now. Gabe was not his usual jovial self. For Gabe, he was almost . . . serious.

  “Is he okay?” Again, she tried to keep the question professional in tone. But based on the way Gabe’s eyebrows shot up, she must not have succeeded.

  “Depends on your definition of okay,” he said. “Physically, he’s fine. Hasn’t even been in the water.”

  They’d reached the bottom of the incline, and Sabrina paused to take it all in. The medical examiner hovered over a body to her left. The dive team van was parked near the shore—they must have driven down here on the service road the utility companies used. Two divers bobbed around the car.

  But still no Adam.

  Gabe tilted his head to the left and she looked beyond the body.

  There he was.

  Adam paced along the edge of the lake in the direction of the double bridges.

  Nothing about this made any sense.

  “Dare I ask?” This time her words were a mere whisper.

  “I’m the lead investigator on the homicide, and under normal circumstances there wouldn’t be much I could say. But there’
s been a development I’m going to need to share with you because you need to know what you’re dealing with when you start working on that laptop.”

  Gabe motioned for her to follow him toward the medical examiner.

  This was getting weirder by the second.

  They stopped a few feet away from the body. “Dr. Oliver, have you met Dr. Fleming?” Gabe’s formal introduction caught Sabrina by surprise.

  Dr. Oliver stood. “I’d shake your hand, but—” She indicated her gloved hands. “I don’t know if we’ve met in an official capacity or not, but I’ve heard wonderful things about you, Dr. Fleming. I’m Sharon.”

  “Likewise. And I’m Sabrina.”

  “I’d like Sabrina to see what you showed us a little while ago,” Gabe said to Dr. Oliver. “She’ll be the one trying to recover anything we can get off the laptop, and while we intend to keep this little piece of evidence out of the press, I think it’s important for her to be aware of it. I trust her implicitly.”

  Sharon regarded Sabrina with a speculative look. “Have you ever seen a dead body?”

  Why on earth did they want her to look at this poor victim? Sabrina swallowed hard. “I have,” she said.

  “You won’t pass out?” Sharon pressed.

  “I will not.” Sabrina wasn’t offended by the question. Sharon Oliver had no idea the kinds of things Sabrina had seen. She got no pleasure from viewing this poor victim’s body, but there was no way it would replace the stuff of her nightmares.

  Sharon pulled the sheet away from the body. A woman. Probably in her late forties to early fifties. Pixie-cut hair. Something about her looked familiar.

  Why was she lifting the woman’s shirt?

  As the words written on the victim’s abdomen came into focus, Sabrina blinked a couple of times and then knelt closer. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to risk anyone overhearing, although no one stood within twenty feet of them.

  She straightened and tried to process it.

  They killed me. Ask Adam Campbell.

  She took a closer look at the victim’s face.

  No. It couldn’t be. “Do you have a name yet?” she asked Gabe.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Her name is Lisa Palmer. She’s an—”

  “Accountant,” Sabrina said.

  “Do you know her?” Gabe asked.

  “Only by reputation.” Who had killed her? Why? And what did Adam know about it?

  “What can you tell me about her?” Gabe asked.

  “Not much,” Sabrina answered. “She was my father’s accountant. I saw her leaving the house once. I never met her.”

  “Was your father’s accountant?” Gabe frowned. “Did he fire her?”

  “No. He died.”

  A deputy called Gabe’s name and waved for him to come up to the road.

  Gabe pointed at her. “We’re not done.”

  Awesome. Her mind spiraled through the possible ramifications. All her family’s secrets part of the public record. Adam would find out . . .

  “I’ll be back to get your statement.”

  “Fine.” She pointed to Adam. “Can I go talk to him while I’m waiting?”

  “You can try. As soon as I took his statement, he changed back into clothes and said he wanted to be alone, but my guess is you might be the exception to that request.”

  “I don’t know. If he wants to be alone . . .”

  “Go on. He needs to talk to someone. Maybe he’ll talk to you.”

  She refocused on Adam. He’d stopped walking and now sat on a fallen log near the water’s edge. He might have been staring at the water. Might have been praying. She couldn’t tell.

  Gabe gave her an encouraging nod and took off in the direction of the road.

  This was so not her area of expertise. She worked best in a world where the facts reigned supreme. Emotions always left her fumbling for words.

  And saying the wrong thing.

  But even from this distance, Adam’s misery was so evident it made her chest hurt. Her feet started moving toward him before her brain registered what she was doing.

  Lord, I’m going to need a lot of help here.

  2

  It took her a couple of minutes to reach Adam, and while she was almost certain he knew she was approaching, he didn’t acknowledge her.

  Not typical Adam. Not at all. Even on his busiest days, his chivalry quotient was off the charts.

  “Hi,” she said.

  He nodded but didn’t speak.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  A shrug.

  Wow. This was going . . . great. No greeting. No hello.

  She’d seen him frustrated. Overwhelmed. Even despairing when they thought they’d lost Leigh last spring. But she’d never seen Adam so dispirited.

  She sat beside him, and he scooted over a few inches to give her a little more room, but her left leg still brushed against his right thigh. She couldn’t decide what to do with her hands, so she clasped them in front of her and leaned forward with her elbows on her knees.

  Lord, that help we talked about? Anytime you’d like to get started, that would be awesome. I’m out of ideas.

  She had a bad feeling she was handling this all wrong, but since she couldn’t think of anything to say, she just sat with Adam.

  If he wasn’t so miserable, and if there wasn’t a dead body fifty yards away, she could have enjoyed this.

  Adam kept her at a professional distance most of the time. The last time she’d been this close to him was last spring when they got the call that Leigh was safe. She’d been sobbing with relief when his arms wrapped around her. He held her and whispered to her that she’d done a great job. And at one point, she’d thought he might have kissed the top of her head.

  But since then, things had been . . . off.

  Movement to her right pulled her attention back to the present. Dr. Oliver was overseeing the removal of the body.

  “I don’t know her.” Adam’s gruff voice startled her. “But I think she’s dead because of me.”

  “You had nothing to do with her death.”

  “Just because I didn’t send her car over the embankment doesn’t mean I—”

  “Don’t go there. There’s nothing logical about that statement, Adam.” Sabrina tapped his knee with her fist.

  Adam pulled his knee away from her. “I’m not in the mood for logic, Sabrina.” The anguished way he spoke the words took some of the edge off them. Some. Not all.

  I’m messing this up, Lord. I don’t know how to take the logic out of anything.

  “Sorry.” She didn’t know what else to say. She did know this wasn’t the right time to bring up the fact that the victim had probably known more about her dad than she did.

  “Her name is . . . was . . . Lisa Palmer,” Adam said. “Gabe was able to get the identification from her car. She came to the office last week. Said she wanted to meet with me, but I wasn’t in. One of the other investigators tried to help her, but she said she only wanted to talk to me. He looked at my calendar and set up a time for her to meet with me on Monday. Told me about it when I came back to the office. And that’s the last I thought about it until I saw my name on her stomach.”

  He dropped his face into his hands. “If I’d had any idea she was in danger, I could have met with her on Saturday.”

  “But you didn’t know.” She tried to say the words in a comforting way. He didn’t throw her logic in her face this time, so maybe she was making a little progress.

  “Where were you last week?” she asked.

  “What?” He mumbled the word through his hands, still not looking at her.

  “Why were you out of the office last week?”

  He sat up. “I was in court.”

  “What kind of case?”

  His face contorted in sorrow. “Elder abuse.”

  Sabrina placed a tentative hand on his arm. “Was it bad?”

  He groaned. “An adult child siphoned off the parents’ life savings. Years of hard
work and tucking money aside, and their own son deceived them. They can’t afford food or medicine, and they didn’t deserve it. And it’s a no-win situation. They know what happened to their money, but now their son will be in prison and they have no one to help them.”

  “How awful,” she said. “Were you in court all week?”

  “The case closed just before lunch on Friday. The evidence was overwhelming. The jury had him convicted by three. He wanted to take a plea, but the DA wasn’t offering.” He looked at her. “I know what you’re doing.”

  She tried to look innocent. “What?”

  “You’re trying to make me see that I wasn’t in the office because I was doing my job, and I was helping bring justice to a horrible situation.”

  “I think you’ve made a good point.”

  “But a woman died. She’s not poor. She’s not sad. She’s dead. And I could have—”

  “Adam.” She couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re hurting for her, and you feel guilty because she’s dead and you want to believe you could have prevented it. But that’s the biggest fallacy of all. I know you don’t want to be logical about this right now, and I’m not trying to make you unfeel the very real emotions you’re experiencing, but you need to remember that you’re one piece of an elaborate puzzle.”

  He didn’t argue, so she kept going. “If that message said, ‘Ask Sabrina Fleming,’ I would feel the same way. But you aren’t in control of the world. And where human understanding fails us, we have to trust that God isn’t surprised by this.”

  “I don’t know if I’ve ever heard you talk about God before,” he said.

  That stung. Had he really never heard her mention her faith? “Unfortunately, many of my colleagues believe science and faith are at odds with each other instead of seeing how they are, in fact, beautifully interwoven. Over the years, my faith has become more and more private. Which isn’t something I’m proud of, by the way.”

  He rested one hand on her knee and squeezed. “I get it. I don’t talk about my faith with my family much. The general feeling is that it’s okay for everyone to attend services at a respectable place of worship as long as their faith doesn’t start interfering with their social life or as long as no one gets too fanatical about it.”