Like she wanted to bother.
Well, maybe she did. There were questions she needed to ask. For her own peace of mind. If he could fill in more of those missing fragments, she would be relieved if not exactly grateful.
The door finally opened, and Falco gave her a nod. “Hey, Cross. Come on in.”
Sadie followed Falco to the kitchen, where Devlin sat at the island drinking coffee.
Devlin gave one of those same nods Falco had given. “Morning.”
“Coffee?” This from Falco.
“I’m good.” Sadie scooted onto a vacant stool. She placed the envelope holding the folded spreadsheets on the counter. She looked from Falco to Devlin. “The Myers case is closed, I hear.”
Most people would probably have asked Devlin how her kid was, but Sadie figured the detective would get around to that in the course of giving her answer to the question asked.
“Sykes and Peterson have some follow-up and reports to finalize, but, yeah, it’s pretty much done.” Devlin set her mug on the counter. “Billings, the head of the school, came forward this morning and confirmed what Sue Grimes shared with him last year. So, it’s over for us, yes.”
“Alice Cortez,” Falco chimed in, “a.k.a. Isabella Osorio—is the one who caused Brendal Myers to fall down the stairs. She leaned toward the girl, making threats with some crazy chants, and Brendal tried to step back and ultimately fell.”
Tension sifted through Sadie. So the kid’s identity had been confirmed. “I remember Eddie—Eduardo—saying once that his daughter had behavior problems. Too bad I didn’t remember sooner.”
Devlin said, “Cora Cortez stated that Isabella had issues. The problems started when she was a child. She killed small animals. Chickens, cats, dogs. She couldn’t have pets.”
The memory of waking up with a bloody, headless chicken in her bed zoomed into vivid focus in Sadie’s head. She flinched and banished the image. That was one piece of her memory she could have done without recalling.
“The problems became so bad they had to send her away,” Devlin went on. “Even members of the family’s household staff were afraid of her. They called her a witch. Cora Cortez said she had crosses all over her house because she was terrified of Alice. A truly twisted little girl.”
Sadie wondered if Eddie could have helped his daughter—if Sadie hadn’t killed him. She blinked. Not going there.
“Yes,” Devlin said, “to answer the question you didn’t ask, Tori is fine. It’ll take some time to put this behind her, but she’ll get there.”
Sadie nodded. “Good to hear.”
Falco gestured to the envelope. “What’s this?”
“My case isn’t closed.” Sadie opened the envelope. “I still don’t know who killed Walsh or his friend, Kurtz.”
“Technically, Cross,” Falco countered, “the case is ours, and we’re still trying to figure that out as well.”
Sadie’s eyebrows reared up in surprise. “The task force?”
“We’re still working with the DEA,” Kerri explained, “but this time, we’re lead in the homicide portion of the case.”
Sadie let her surprise show. “Good to know. Before I forget, I had a visitor last night.” As she pressed the folds out of the pages, she brought Devlin and Falco up to speed on Lana Walsh’s theory about her husband.
“She gave you the spreadsheets?” Devlin asked.
“No. My computer guy finally hacked his way into the thumb drive I found at Naomi’s house where Asher—Walsh had hidden it.”
Devlin leaned toward the pages in question. “Did you find anything that will help us with solving the murders?”
“I don’t know.” Sadie pointed to the columns. “There are lots of numbers, like deposits or transfers and delivery dates.” She tapped the headings of the main two columns. “There appears to be only two names associated with whatever all this means. Harvard and Iris.”
Falco leaned forward and scanned the top page. “There’s the cosmetics company called Iris.”
“Ironically the company rents one of Taylor’s warehouses,” Kerri pointed out. “I doubt that’s a coincidence.”
“Yeah, that was my first thought,” Sadie said. “Both Asher and his father attended Harvard, but I’m certain this is the father.”
“The father gets my vote,” Falco said.
“Me too,” Kerri agreed. “Not that there’s really any question.”
Sadie allowed a hint of a smile at Devlin’s smart-ass remark. “Exactly. So, I called Lana Walsh this morning. Leland Walsh is still missing.”
“Is she making an official report?” Falco asked.
“Yeah, she was headed to the BPD when I called. With all that happened yesterday, it’s possible Leland Walsh has cut and run—if his wife’s theory is on target.” She gestured to the pages on the counter. “And if our conclusions on all this are right.”
Kerri