She watched him open the pictures. Most were impossible to identify. They looked like blurry smudges, though one was clearly a female forearm with two distinct fingerprints denting the flesh, and another showed a bruised and swollen nose.

“If this is Mrs. Montclair’s arm, that’s a nasty bruise made by someone’s hand. That nose looks broken. But that’s all I’ve got on here. The rest are selfies and sunsets.”

“What about the baby?”

“Nothing. Not a single shot.”

“Strange.”

“Not really,” Moreno said. “When you lose a child, it’s often difficult to have the constant reminder. Some people get their energy from looking at the old photos, setting up shrines. Some just want to forget.”

“How sad,” Holly said. “Well, we know she got hurt at least twice, and we’ve had a number of domestic calls to come out and defuse fights, though Mrs. Montclair always claimed she didn’t call the police in the reports. We should look and see where the calls originated.”

“Already did,” Jim said. “They all came from the house, from her phone.”

Moreno stuck a toothpick in his mouth. “She was probably lying to save face. That happens. I see it all the time on domestic calls. The woman’s already been scared and beaten up. By admitting she called for help, she can be signing her death warrant.”

The MP detectives chimed in. Walt spoke first. He had a gentle but distinct Southern accent. Holly knew he was from West Tennessee. “We’re going to be doing a full-on grid search through the area. I’ll be leading the exterior team, Alex will be in charge of the house itself. We’ll start in the house and its proximity, then move everywhere around the neighborhood, and start working our way out. With your relationship to the suspect, you should stick with Alex. You’re already somewhat familiar with the house. You can guide us there.”

“Actually, I may want you here to interview Mr. Montclair,” Moreno said. “Depends on how he reacts when we show up to toss the place and bring him in for questioning. You’ve definitely developed a rapport with him. He might just admit it all once we get him inside an interview room.”

“Assuming his lawyer is going to let you talk to him,” Walt said. “Joel Robinson isn’t anyone’s fool.”

Moreno shrugged. “With any luck, Montclair is so convinced we’ll never figure out he’s behind this that he’ll come on in like a good little boy and leave Robinson out of it.”

Holly listened carefully to everything, nodding, taking notes, thinking. When they’d finished running her through the plan, she pocketed her notebook and crossed her arms on her chest.