with Holly.” Todd opened the folder and pulled out a photo of her. “She has no criminal record. She’s been married to Owen for five years and has worked as a bookkeeper at Beckett Construction for seven. I confirmed the story about her father. Walden Phelps died in a single-vehicle accident on Dead Horse Road sixteen years ago.” He slid a police report across the table toward Bree.
She skimmed. “No questions about the accident not being an accident?”
“No,” Todd said. “According to the report, he was coming down the hill too fast and hit black ice. The toxicology screen showed his blood alcohol level was elevated to 0.11.”
“Impaired but still walking around,” Matt said.
“Yes,” Todd agreed.
Bree set the report aside. “What about her financial situation?”
Todd shuffled through some papers. “They’re broke. No savings in the bank. They’re behind on all their bills, including the mortgage. Their credit card debt has been steadily increasing. They’re only making the minimum payments.”
“What about paying a home health aide service?” Bree craned her neck to see the folder.
Todd shuffled through his papers. “I see about a thousand a month going toward health-related companies. Some of that was charged to their credit cards. Seems like when they approach a card’s maximum, they open a new one.”
“What about payments to Shannon Phelps?”
Todd shook his head. “I don’t see any checks to Shannon or any significant cash withdrawals.”
“Shannon said Holly was paying a couple of thousand a month. Owen said a thousand, which agrees with their statements. Where did the rest of the money come from?” Bree’s question was rhetorical. “Moving on to phone records.”
Todd continued. “I reviewed her calls for the week before her death but didn’t see anything that stood out. She mostly called and texted with Owen, her sister, and her mother. There were several calls to Beckett Construction and her boss, Paul Beckett, including one on Thursday. She made a very brief call to her sister at 5:05 Thursday evening. The last use of the phone is a text message chain with Owen late Friday afternoon discussing what they were having for dinner. The phone shows no use after that point.”
“Makes sense. She died between five p.m. Friday and noon Saturday,” Bree said.
Todd nodded. “Moving along to Owen. He’s employed by Randolph Savings and Loan. He doesn’t use his phone as much as his wife did. Most of his texts are with Holly and three additional numbers. One of those numbers belongs to Steve Thorpe.”
“That’s Owen’s brother,” Bree said.
Todd nodded. “The remaining few calls are businesses: an insurance company, an auto shop, a pharmacy, et cetera.”
“Have a deputy call Owen and ask him to identify the three additional numbers, including his brother’s,” Bree said. “Then verify his information.”
Todd made a note. “Onward to Shannon Phelps. Never married, started her marketing company six years ago. Seems to be moderately successful. She’s not rich, but she pays her bills on time and has a small amount of savings.”
Bree updated her chief deputy on the interviews she and Matt had conducted. “The bartender at the Grey Fox has provided Owen with an alibi for Friday night. Let’s get a background check on him. His name is Billy Zinke.”
Todd scribbled on a piece of paper.
Bree handed him the thumb drive she’d collected from the Grey Fox. “Here’s the surveillance video from the front entrance to the bar Owen says he was in all night. Have a deputy review it and confirm any sightings of Owen.”
Matt scrubbed a hand over his face. “What’s the plan for the evening?”
Bree checked her watch. “Let’s call it a day and start fresh in the morning with a visit to Beckett Construction. Hopefully we’ll have more data at that point.”
“OK.” Matt got up and left the room.
Todd stood.
Bree held up a hand. “Is Deputy Oscar in yet?”
Todd nodded. “Just.”
“Please send him in when you leave,” Bree said.
“Yes, ma’am.” Todd slipped out the door.
Oscar appeared a minute later. He adjusted his duty belt and swaggered into her office.
“Please close the door.” Bree folded her hands on her desk and waited for him to shut the door and sit facing her desk.
His mouth was flat and his eyes dark. “If this is about the other night . . .”
Bree responded with a lift of both eyebrows. “It is.”
He squirmed and clenched his hands into fists on his thighs.
“This is not the first time I’ve had to reprimand you for not following procedures. We have those procedures for a reason.”
Oscar’s gaze dropped to study his