I See You (Criminal Profiler #2) - Mary Burton Page 0,85

he stammered. “I don’t remember.”

“How many pain meds have you taken, Mr. Foster?” Vaughan asked.

“I don’t know. I got a little confused and took an extra, but I am clearheaded.”

“You told me yesterday a masked intruder broke into your house.”

“I panicked. I didn’t know what to say. Now I do.”

“You’re inebriated. You need to go home and sober up, and then we can talk again.”

“Why? I’m telling you the truth,” he said. “I just confessed to two murders! Case is closed. You win. Isn’t that what you want from me?”

“It’s not a win until I have the truth,” Vaughan said.

Foster slumped back in his chair. “It is the truth. It’s all my fault.”

“If you killed your daughter, where is Skylar’s body?” Vaughan pressed.

“I don’t remember!” Foster shouted.

Foster was not in his right mind. Vaughan was sure of it. And he was not convinced that Foster had killed his child. So why was he putting them through this dog and pony show? Was he trying to protect Skylar in some way?

Vaughan shifted in his seat, slowly tapping his index finger on the table. “Veronica Manchester is not on vacation, Mr. Foster. She’s dead.”

Foster stared at him with a blank expression. “What?”

“She was stabbed to death roughly ten days ago, and her body was dropped in a dumpster. Did you kill her as well?”

Foster’s face turned ashen, like a guy who had just taken a right cross. “No. I didn’t kill her.”

“Who would?” he asked.

Foster’s gaze took on a wild expression, as if he was witnessing a litany of dark scenarios. “I have no idea.”

“When did you find out that Skylar was not your biological child?” Vaughan asked, matter of fact.

“What the hell?” Foster whispered. “Skylar is my daughter.”

“I have no doubt you love her. You raised her. But you’re not her biological father.”

Foster folded his arms. “She’s dead, so it doesn’t matter.”

“We know Skylar was in communication with a man through a password-encoded app on her phone. We also know she was having weekly meals near a garage where Jason Dalton now works.”

“I love Skylar. That will never change.”

Several times, he had used a present tense verb when referring to his daughter. “Was Hadley sleeping with Jason Dalton back in high school?”

Foster dug his thumbnail into a scratch on the table. “When she told me she was pregnant, I saw it as a sign of hope. I thought the baby would help her get over her sister’s death.” He swallowed. “I guess that’s been bubbling under the surface all these years, and that’s why I killed them both.”

“Did you tell your attorney you were coming here today?” Vaughan asked.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“He’d have tried to stop me.” Foster chewed on the end of his thumbnail.

“You aren’t in your right mind, and your story is not matching up with what I’ve seen at your house. As time goes on, I will get more forensic data, and I’ll get a clearer picture of what really happened in that house.”

As Foster studied him closely, the color drained from his face. “I should call Pollard.”

“That would be a good idea. I’ll arrange it.”

“Shouldn’t you read me my rights?” Foster asked.

“You’re not under arrest.” He leaned forward. “When my son was born, I felt on top of the world. I wasn’t more than a kid myself, but I loved that boy from the start. Was it that way with Skylar?”

Tears rolled down his cheeks. “I was a goner the first time she smiled at me.”

“I’d do anything to protect my boy.”

“What are you getting at?” Foster asked.

“Where is Skylar?”

Foster was silent for a moment, and then he sat back and drank more coffee. “I don’t remember.”

Vaughan rose and closed the interview room door behind him. Spencer came out of the room across the hallway. They walked down the hall and away from the door.

Before she could speak, he said, “He’s lying.”

She shook her head. “He spoke about his wife’s death with vivid detail. But when he spoke about his daughter’s death, the tone and description deviated significantly. I think Skylar is still alive.”

“But where?”

“He’s stashed her somewhere. I don’t know if she’s locked up or just in hiding. But he doesn’t want us to talk to her.”

“Because she knows exactly what happened?”

“You know as well as I do that something more happened in that house yesterday.”

He rubbed the tension from the back of his neck. “Absolutely.”

“We’ll talk to him again in a few hours. I want him to sober up here and think about what he’s told us.

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