Always Look Twice by Elizabeth Goddard

Always Look Twice by Elizabeth Goddard

Author:Elizabeth Goddard
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romantic Suspense;Christian fiction;Mystery fiction;FIC042060;FIC042040;FIC027110
ISBN: 9781493419418
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2019-08-12T16:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

SATURDAY, 9:12 A.M.

BRIDGER COUNTY SHERIFF’S OFFICE

The passenger seat in Heath’s truck was becoming all too familiar. Harper’s palms slicked. She wrapped her hand around the door grip on their approach to the Bridger County Sheriff’s Office. When she’d come here to meet the sketch artist, the place had appeared calm. Everything was as it should be.

Today tension rippled through the air, with the heat already rising from the black asphalt as they made their way to the building.

Her heart had broken at the news that not one but two people were missing. Even more shattering—honeymooners. That she had possibly witnessed the new bride’s demise left Harper broken and empty. The woman’s parents had flown in from Nebraska last night, hoping for news of their daughter. They recognized her as possibly being the woman in the sketch artist’s composite. Harper had been called in to identify the victim from a photograph lineup.

Harper wanted to meet the parents. To somehow console them, but that wouldn’t happen during the investigation. Sheriff Taggart would have to look closely at them. It was standard procedure to suspect the people closest to a victim because murders were most often committed by someone the victim knew. Despite her time as a crime scene photographer, Harper still couldn’t fathom that truth. Would Harper also be asked to look at pictures of the father—was he the man behind the weapon? She shuddered. The sheriff would also suspect the husband. He was still missing but could have committed the crime. Waves of grief rolled through her as she struggled to believe that a family member could murder a loved one.

At the doors to the county sheriff’s office, Heath ushered Harper through to find Detective Moffett waiting.

“The parents are sequestered in another room, waiting to hear the news. We have photographs of their daughter for you to look at.”

“What about her father?” Harper didn’t spell out her meaning for the detective.

“At this moment, he doesn’t match your description of the murderer.” She leaned in. “He’s in a wheelchair. Has MS.”

“I see.”

Moffett led her to a room. Photographs were laid out on the table. Harper closed her eyes and recalled the images of the victim she had committed to memory.

Before Harper looked at the photographs, she glanced at Heath, then Moffett. “They’ll want hope that she’s still alive.” Harper couldn’t give them any. She’d seen the woman’s empty eyes.

“We all do,” Moffett said.

Harper steadied herself, then faced the nameless photographs lined up on the table. Many different women stared back at her. Blood rushed to her head, roared in her ears.

She ran a forefinger over the edge of one particular photograph. Those eyes—she could never forget them.

The woman in the photograph was smiling. Laughing with friends. Tears burned down Harper’s cheeks.

Why had this cruelty happened?

She glanced at Moffett. “This is the woman I saw. Is it . . . Is it her?”

“Yes.”

“Can I have her name, please?”

“Sophie Osborne. Her husband’s name is Chase,” Moffett said.

“And the parents?”

“Rick and Netta Batterson.” Moffett studied Harper.



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