"I'm pegging the kid for it," Cole stated, taking a long drag on his straw.

"Because you think he did it? Or because you think he's a...what did you call him? A short-prick?" asked Tessa, taking a sip of her own soda.

Cole made a sound in his throat. "You saw it. He is a short-prick."

"Wait," Zeb cut in, looking between the two of them, his eyes round in his face. "You saw...it? You saw his--"

"I'd rather not talk about it," she held up a hand to stop Zeb's words.

"But, how...I mean...I just don't...I don't understand--"

"Don't even try, Collins. I'll tell you about it later," Cole waved the young man's words away.

Zeb paused for a second before giving his head a shake. "Anyway, what do we do now? I've called all Hallie Whitmore's friends over and over. No one is answering."

"Why is that everyone walks around with their face glued to a phone, but no one will ever answer it?" Tessa wondered as she shoved several fries into her mouth.

"Most people don't answer numbers that aren't on their call list. I don't," Zeb put in.

"Welp, what's the next move, Detective Stark?" wondered Cole. "We can't question people we can't get hold of. And we've already questioned Rutherford enough for one day. I hope. So, should we maybe try Hallie Whitmore's family?"

Taking a huge bite of her burger, she contemplated for a second. "If uhd dad is cash furm the begunging--hyuherk!" she abruptly halted, nearly gagging on the gluey cheese that had become welded to the roof of her mouth.

Cole and Zeb both stared at her, their expressions blank. "Come again?" asked Cole.

Forcibly swallowing down her mouthful, and breezing right past the moment, she tried again. "If I'd had this case from the beginning, questioning the family that night would have been my next move."

She would have questioned Nathan Rutherford at the scene, then she would have tracked down Hallie's family, not only to inform them, but also to question them about their daughter's life, her friends, her lovers...and also to try and get a feel for things, try to scent out their reactions, and nail down their alibis.

Money had been the driving force behind uncountable murders and, from what she'd heard, the Whitmore family was worth about eleventy billion dollars, which could be construed as an awful lot of motive.

Cole turned to Officer Collins. "Rogers interviewed the Whitmore family, yes?"

Zeb nodded. "He did. His notes are pretty brief there. He informed the family of the death, asked a few questions, basically noted that they were all accounted for during the time of the murder, and that was that. I think the only other contact he had with the family was the couple of times that Senator Whitmore showed up here and chewed him a new one."

"Yeah. I was here for one of those reamings. Shew," Cole breathed. "Poor Rogers was probably afraid to go anywhere near the family after that."

Well, Rogers might have been afraid, but she was not. And the fact that he was afraid to thoroughly question the Whitmores only filled her with further doubt regarding his investigation. "So, should we try and set up an appointment or just knock on the door and see what happens?"

"I'd say odds are about even either way," was Cole's opinion.

"A knock on the door it is, then," she said, finishing off the last of her fries. "And if our affable state senator is there, I'll just---"

"No," Cole broke in, his tone lower by an octave. "I'll just."

That threat hanging in the air above her desk, the three of them quickly finished their lunch and cleaned up the remnants and then Tessa went for her bag. "What's the family's address?"

"They live out in The Flats. I know the place," Cole responded.

A sudden thought occurred to her. "Tell me, do we still have Hallie Whitmore's cell phone here? If we do, I'd like to go through it."

People these days did walk around with their faces glued to their phones. So, if Nathan Rutherford and Hallie Whitmore had been arguing or having problems, the proof would probably lie in the deeps of the girl's text messages. And that would likely also go for everyone else in her life, including her family and anyone she might have been carrying on with during those times when she went MIA.

"It should still be in evidence lockup. But, the file indicated that Rogers went through the phone and didn't find anything significant.  He'd cleared it to be released to Ms. Whitmore's family, but they never came to pick her things up," explained Zeb.

Well, that was a very interesting tidbit regarding the Whitmore family.

"I'd like to see for myself what's on there," she stated plainly.

 Catching her tone, Zeb flushed and got to his feet. "I'll get the cell. I think there's a charger with it, so I'll sign it out and you can go through it on the ride to the Whitmore place, if you want."

"Thank you, Zeb," she told the young man, who hurried away across the gallery.

"You know," Cole began from beside her, "thinking on the way Rogers seems to have handled this case, I kind of hope there's nothing worth anything in that phone. Otherwise...this department could be in a load of trouble."

"I know," she agreed, siding with Cole.

If she found anything pertinent on a cell phone that Detective Rogers had been through and then deemed clear of any useful evidence, she would have to openly call his investigation into question. Especially considering the way he'd regarded the information that Officer Collins had tried to bring to his attention. And if she had to do that, his work on any previous cases could also be in jeopardy. Which meant that the Harris County Sheriff's Office could find itself in some seriously deep shit.

* * * * * *

Scrolling through the astonishingly large cache of text messages on Hallie's Whitmore's cell was...mind numbing. The list of contacts was endless, with so many names and numbers, it fairly made her head spin, causing her to question how on earth Hallie could possibly know so many people. No one she'd ever met had that many friends!

But, since she had to start somewhere, she began with the names that were familiar to her. The majority of messages from Hallie's girlfriends—Etty, Chloe, Leva, and Danni—were in the form of a sporadic group chat which was along the lines of where the girls should get drinks on any particular night...what club they should hit up...when they should meet at the club...what they were each wearing to the club...where they should go shopping to buy outfits for the club... There was also a bit of chatter about vacationing in Cancun before summer's end, possibly taking a girl's trip to L.A. by way of Vegas...

There was nothing that would stand out as suspect between Hallie and her clutch, as Nathan had called them. It seemed the group didn't discuss anything with any depth and it appeared they only rarely texted each other one on one. But, owing to Nathan's assertion that they were together constantly, they would probably have any important discussions face to face rather than over the phone. If they were actually capable of having an important discussion.

Hallie's texts to and from Nathan Rutherford were about as infrequent and nearly as meaningless. Hallie was the one who seemed to text the most out of the two and only to ask where they should meet up for dinner or date night and if she should stay over at his house. Scrolling backward, there were a few texts here and there from Nathan, asking where she was...what was taking her so long...threatening to leave without her...declaring that he was getting tired of her games. Hallie never responded to those messages.

Scrolling forward to the most recent batch of messages, which were dated June 10th with the first text time-stamped at 6:45 p.m., she saw that they were all from Nathan Rutherford and the barrage went on for nearly an hour, the last message being received just before 8 p.m.

Hallie, answer your phone! I've been calling you for almost an hour! Where are you! Stop fucking around and answer me! This game is getting old! I'm through with your bullshit, Hallie! If you're not here in ten minutes, I'm leaving without you! Fuck you, I'm out!

The earlier texts, as well as the last ones that Nathan had sent, seemed to back up his story that Hallie liked to ignore him from time to time, giving him no reason to believe anything was actually wrong with her. Assuming he wasn't using Hallie's history as a cover...it did substantiate his telling of events to some degree.

Which did beg the question of why Detective Rogers hadn't made mention of Nathan Rutherford's messages in the case file. Those texts weren't exactly exculpatory evidence that would clear him from the list of suspects, not by a long shot, but they did give some teeth to Nate's statement, making them at least noteworthy.

But, perhaps Detective Rogers hadn't wanted to do anything that might, even in some small way, prove helpful to his only suspect. And unfortunately, that act in and of itself, was not only an abuse of power, but it was also against federal law.

On the lesser side of things, something else struck her as she read those infrequent messages between Hallie and Nathan. It was the fact that neither of them had said a single, endearing word to each other. There was no I love you...I can't wait to see you... There was nothing to indicate they even liked each other, despite the fact that they were engaged.

Even the pictures on her phone gave no indication that Hallie Whitmore was involved with anyone except...maybe Hallie Whitmore. Every single snap was a selfie, either showing her reflection in a full length mirror or a close up of her face using different filters. There were no pictures of her with her friends or Nathan. There was only herself...perfectly dressed, blonde hair perfectly styled, makeup perfectly done...smile perfectly in place.

Moving on to the very long list of other people who'd been texting Hallie, she found messages that seemed to go no deeper than her communications with her clutch of friends. Texts were sporadic and revolved around hanging out, meeting up at a party or a club, going away for the weekend.

Somewhere near the end of that lineup, she reached Angela, who'd last texted Hallie on May 27th, two weeks before her death. Opening those texts, Tessa felt herself jolt. She'd been expecting to see a few words about coordinating outfits or a list of club options, perhaps a reminder about one of the charity dinners that apparently no one ever really wanted to attend. But, what she actually saw was...something else.

"Tessa? What is it? Did you find something?" Cole asked as he sped them along through the afternoon.

Yes. She'd certainly found...something.

I can't do this anymore, Hallie! Its either him or me! You can't keep fucking me and crawling back into bed with him! I thought you loved me! What about our plans! Why are you acting like this! I won't let you marry him! You belong with me!

Those texts came one right after the other and they went on and on, for days and days, it seemed. Rage...desperation...begging Hallie to come back...to come her senses and stop pretending that she was going to marry Nate Rutherford.

"Tessa? What is it?" urged Cole. "Did Rutherford miss something important?"

She gave her head a nod as she scrolled. "Yes."

Yes, indeed. It seemed as if Detective Rogers had missed, or chosen to ignore, something very important.