Drained (Edgars Family #6) - Suzanne Ferrell Page 0,71
Carson shrugged. “Call me paranoid, but I didn’t want anyone using it to find the safehouse, just in case.”
Aaron introduced the profiler to Paula, Kirk F, Katie and Matt.
“We just finished dessert, but there is some pie left,” Brianna said.
Aaron laughed. “You better get some before Kirk F decides he needs the last slice.”
“No, thank you. I just finished dinner,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to chat with your witness.”
“Which one?” Kirk F gave him a cocky grin. “The two-legged or four-legged one.”
Carson chuckled. “I haven’t learned canine yet, so I’ll just talk with Ms. Nowak for now.” He took a seat on the leather sofa opposite the one Paula was snuggled on with the dog and an afghan. “I was hoping you could tell me about your friend Art.”
Paula slumped a little into the sofa, like a sulking teenager and cast a glance at Aaron then Brianna, who’d gotten out a pad of paper and a pen to take notes, before looking at the FBI agent. “I told Brianna and Aaron everything I know about him already.”
Carson nodded patiently. “I know, but sometimes when you tell things more than once you remember more details about an incident or a person.”
“He’s a war veteran who is homeless,” she said with a slight shoulder shrug, sounding a little less petulant. “He loved Stanley. Took very good care of him. He came into the East Side Hope Fellowship church where I volunteer on Tuesdays and Thursdays. That’s about all I know.”
“Okay, that’s good.” Carson sat back and crossed one leg over the other, looking relaxed. “How did you know he was a veteran? Did he talk about it?”
“No, he didn’t talk about it too much. He always wore this old khaki-green Army jacket. Even in winter when it wouldn’t keep him warm and during the hottest days of summer. You’d never see him without it.” She blinked then looked at Aaron. “And he had those two medals I told you about.”
He nodded, turning to Carson. “We’ve determined they were the Silver Star and the Distinguished Service Cross. Got a call into the Department of Veterans’ Affairs to see if they can give me Art’s last name and any info on them.”
“Those are both awarded by the Army, so we can say that was the branch he was in,” Carson said. “And according to your files, those were missing when you found him, right?”
“That’s right,” Aaron said.
“And he wasn’t in an old Army jacket,” Brianna added. “The killer put him in a clean and pressed military dress uniform.”
“Really?” Katie asked from her spot at the end of Paula’s sofa.
Brianna nodded. “He completely cleaned him, scrubbed him from head to toe and redressed him. Did the same with Mia.”
“He put her in a military uniform, too?” Kirk F asked. “Maybe this guy has a military fetish?”
“No,” Aaron answered. “He dressed Mia in a long black dress. The kind most female concert musicians would wear. But he did clean her the same as Art.”
“Did Art have any regular appointments? Like a clinic or doctor?” Carson asked, directing the questions back to Paula.
“Mondays were med days. He’d go to the clinic near the Lutheran Shelter, but that was just to get his BP and sugar checked. They gave him something for his blood pressure, but that’s all.” She gave a ghost of a smile. “He loved having his feet cleaned by the volunteer docs and the new socks they’d give out.”
“Did he have any family?”
“Said once he had a wife and daughter but didn’t keep in touch with them.” She lowered her hand to stroke the pup’s head. “But now his family was just Stanley.”
“Did you ever see anyone showing an unusual interest in Art? A volunteer? A stranger?”
Paula stared off into space, her lips pressed into a thin line as she considered that question. “No, I know most of the volunteers. They’re friendly and kind to the people who come in. They really do care about helping them. And there’s never strangers around, unless it’s another homeless person.”
“How about news people?” Brianna asked, the pen paused over the pad of paper, her expression suggesting she’d thought of something important.
“Why news people?” Aaron asked, curious as to what she was thinking.
“Well, it’s just something Flora said this afternoon,” she said, slowly looking at everyone who now had their focus trained on her. With a slight tilt of her head, she gave a self-deprecating shrug. “Never mind, it’s probably not important.”