A Spooky Legacy, page 14
The driver’s side door opened suddenly, and Ryan let out a little gasp. I patted her back awkwardly. “Good Lord,” Danny said as he slid in and slammed the door. “Next time, you take the chatterbox and I’ll take the grieving brother.”
“You had your chance, McKenna, and you made your deal.”
“Actually, you slunk off at the first opportunity, leaving me as a sacrifice.”
“Which you did not do,” I said, hiding a smile. “You have to be a part of your own rescue.”
He snorted. “Something I will keep in mind in the future.”
“Did she at least give you something usable?”
I listened as he relayed everything he’d learned—some of it useful, some of it downright gossipy. The most important takeaway seemed to be the mystery man Opal had seen across the street. She’d seen his dark-colored Camry on three occasions, and two of those occasions had been when Quinn’s friend had been visiting. She didn’t have a name for the friend, but she agreed to meet with a sketch artist. I was betting that friend was probably Raven Lee.
So who was the mystery guy? Raven’s husband? A lover? Someone very invested in finding out exactly who Raven was spending all her time with? Someone who knew how to bake a poisonous cake and leave his wife’s lover a slice?
“I don’t suppose she caught the tag of this mystery man?” I asked.
Danny snorted. “Of course she did. This is a woman who actually got kicked off neighborhood watch for watching too damn much and—” He gave me the once-over, his brow crinkled. “Why are you holding your arms like that?”
“Hmm?” I looked down only to remember he couldn’t see Ryan on my lap. It probably looked like I was giving myself a weird-ass hug, one in which my arms couldn’t touch my body. “I have...er, a passenger.”
“One who’s clinging to you like a lemur?” He raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?”
“Only if you want to report me to the BAU-3 for child crime,” I said sweetly.
His amused look faded. “Oh, so that’s...oh.”
“It’s a good thing,” I said quietly. “What happened already happened. She was just alone in a dark room, reliving the worst. This way, I can reunite her with Quinn and things will be better.”
He was quiet as he started the car and pulled away from the curb.
I tried to distract him by relating everything I’d learned. I spoke carefully, mindful of Ryan on my lap. She didn’t seem to be paying us much attention, but you just never knew. Danny did more listening than anything else, processing in that quiet way of his. When I finished, he went exactly where I thought he’d go.
“So we’re potentially dealing with a poisoning that was both intentional and accidental,” Danny surmised. “Nate and Quinn realized that once the perpetrator realized she was still alive, he’d try to finish the job.”
“They decided to leave immediately,” I said, picking up the story. “Only Nate was nervous, and it was dark and rainy. The road was slippery, and he took a curve too fast and…well, you know the rest.”
“So where did Quinn get the cake?” Danny asked.
It was a logical question—one I had no answer to.
Yet.
I listened with half an ear as Danny called in the potential location of the Infiniti and requested a dive team. He looked irritable when he finally hung up and didn’t hesitate to tell me why. “It’s a fucking shame they didn’t know about Raven Lee when this case was fresh,” he said. “Who knows where she is now or if she’s even alive. It drives me crazy when people hold back shit that could be important.”
“Caleb says he did.” I hesitated before I spoke because I had a feeling the next part wouldn’t go over well. “And he’s pretty sure he spoke to Detective Owens.”
He frowned. “I sincerely doubt that.”
“Because?”
“Because Zach is conscientious. Always has been,” he said patiently. “And I’m not going to take the word of a suspect over the word of someone I consider a friend.”
Loyalty. He had it in spades. He wasn’t about to let me besmirch a friend’s good name without proof and I had to respect that. That didn’t mean I had my doubts. If Caleb was telling the truth—and I felt like he just might be—then Zach had dropped the ball in a big way. The smallest little detail could make the difference between a case being solved or languishing in the evidence room.
I didn’t plan on making the same mistake.
I updated our team by text as he drove, staying busy to keep awake. But Ryan’s heavy weight on me was soothing and warm and it was damned hard to keep my eyes open. I pretended not to see all the looks Danny kept shooting my way. It wasn’t like he could even see her, so I wasn’t sure what all the staring was about.
Not only could he not see her, but he couldn’t smell her scent—something lavender and vanilla. Or see her face pressed against my shirt. He couldn’t see the crown of her dark silky head, tucked under my chin. Or the way she was holding on to her teddy bear like he was her very best friend in the world. I looked back at the road because I certainly didn’t find those things adorable.
Not in the least.
The traffic was light, and it was smooth sailing on the highway. Eventually, I gave up the battle of trying to stay awake. The last thing I felt was Danny’s hand, resting lightly on the back of my seat. I didn’t bother not to try leaning into it.
Guess Ryan had her security blanket, and I had mine.
14
Star-shaped cucumbers. They were the perfect accompaniment to the smiley peanut butter and jelly sandwich I’d unearthed a few moments earlier. The press had made the sandwich small, so Danny had packed two. I already knew he’d stuffed his face with the pieces that hadn’t made it.
I grinned as I unpacked the rest of my happy-faced lunch at my desk. If he thought I didn’t realize he was adding shapes to the kit my sister bought, he was wrong.
I certainly could use the pick-me-up.
It had taken the dive team three days to find the submerged Infiniti, three scant miles past the Marlon Junction sign. Danny was currently down at Nova Willow, supervising the dive site as they pulled up the car. I decided to stay at the office, mostly because I already knew what they’d find inside—four skeletons and a carful of secrets.
According to the text he’d sent me an hour ago, my suspicions had been correct. He’d also let me know that the dive master had just radioed, “We’ve got a bravo,” which was code they used when they found something important. Danny also let me know that Tate had officially removed me from her Christmas card list.
It was just as well. Seeing her hugging people voluntarily and smiling always freaked me out anyway.
I had my hands plenty full trying to track down the origins of a random piece of cake. I’d asked Ryan for more detail, but she wasn’t much help. I sent a glare her way, but she didn’t notice, too busy playing with my iPad on the floor. Her version of “help” consisted of telling me the cake had been strawberry with chocolate and she hated both strawberry and chocolate.
Two days in the company of a child who never seemed to stop talking had taught me to pick my battles. But I wasn’t about to let that nonsense slide. “You told me your favorite candy is M&Ms.”
“That’s different chocolate,” she’d said aggressively, looking feral enough to fight for the honor of M&Ms, and I immediately changed my mind about challenging that shit.
At least Danny and Zach were making progress with the body parts. Our first victim had been identified by his pacemaker. Bennett Hayes had been a fifty-six-year-old retired architect from the town of Crestwood, married to a therapist named Rhonda. He’d probably thought his cardiac issues would eventually take his life. Guess life had other plans.
According to Rhonda, she’d been blindsided by his abandonment. She knew he’d been seeing someone, and hoped she could convince him to go to therapy. But life had other plans. Bennett drained their bank account and left town while she was at work. He even took the damn dog. She could only guess that he was finally fulfilling his lifelong dream of traveling the world with that woman—his assistant named Brandy.
“Trollop,” Danny had clarified after telling me about his interview with Rhonda. “She actually used the word trollop.”
We’d stopped for coffee on the way to work, and we were posted up at a table, waiting for our order. Okay, fine, we had the coffee already and we were waiting for my cinnamon roll. Sheesh.
“It’s a good word,” I said with a smile.
“Yeah, but when would you really get the chance to use it?”
Soon, I realized when the barista who brought over my pastry decided to flirt with him. Never had delivering coffee required so much cleavage and touching. After she sashayed away, I shook my head.
“Trollop,” I’d muttered around a mouthful of cinnamon goodness.
Danny had nearly choked on his coffee, laughing.
He also had a lead on the tattoo for the second victim. One of the tattoo artists recognized the work as belonging to an old buddy of his. Now they just had to track him down. It was hard to reconcile the fact that identification of our victim could possibly hinge on the memory of someone who went by the name Thrall.
I sighed. And so it goes.
For every answer we’d found, we’d also unearthed another question. And I sure would love to find Raven Lee. I also needed to know more about Moira McDaniels, Stacey Pittman, and Project Halo, which meant a trip to the Hope House. The original detectives on the case had already met with Quinn’s coworkers. Guess it was our turn.
No time like the present.
I gave Ryan one last glance and headed out the door.
As I walked around the compound with my guide Maya, I realized house was a bit of a misnomer for the compound. It was large and imposing from the outside and surrounded by metal bars, almost like a prison. But once I was allowed through the iron gates, the correctional facility décor was left behind.
The compound reminded me almost of a mini campus—three connected buildings and a larger building near the tree line. The latter of the four looked residential—someone had attempted to domesticate it with flowers and yard ornaments. Various items of clothing hung on a rack on the side of the building and there was a small playset in the back.
“What is this place?”
I startled as I glanced down, realizing Ryan had followed me. I tried to move my hand before she could grab it, but I might as well have saved my time. A second later, her hand was tucked snugly in mine as she looked around curiously. It had only been two damn days, and I’d already held hands with her more than anyone in my whole fucking life.
When I didn’t answer her question, she gave my hand a vicious tug. I rolled my eyes, but dutifully asked Maya. “What is that building over there?”
“The living quarters,” Maya informed me as we passed. She was a chatty little thing, only about five feet on a good day, and thought the sun shone out of their CEO and founder’s ass. I’m sure it helped that Evie was her mother.
“My mother wanted it to look and feel like home,” she continued. “We can house about nine women at a time, depending on if they are alone or bring children.”
“Is there a playground?” Ryan wanted to know.
“What’s your position in the organization?” I asked instead, and Ryan gave me a quick kick in the shin. “Ow, fuc—fudge,” I managed, giving a concerned Maya a smile. “And is there a playground here?”
“Of course,” she said with a chipper smile. “Just right over that hill there. Swings, slides, and a jungle gym.”
Ryan let out a little cheer that I ignored. Tiny tyrant. If she thought I was going to take her over there after trying to take me out at the knees, she was…well, probably right. I glared. But it would be on my fucking timeline. I mean, unless she got all pouty and shit.
“And your position here?” I reminded Maya as we meandered along the picturesque path.
“Residential coordinator,” she said. “I help the ladies get settled and even try to recover parts of their old life if possible. Pictures, clothing, and the like. It would probably be easier to buy new things, but it’s important to reclaim any parts of themselves that they can.”
I’d only known her for ten minutes, but I could already tell Maya’s job was a perfect fit. I imagined her assaulting everyone walking through those gates with friendly chatter. It would probably be a relief to some, especially those shell shocked by a mountain of upheaval. You didn’t have to talk or think—you could just be. That also meant she’d probably met everyone at some point, which was good news for me.
“Do you remember Quinn Parker?” I asked.
“Sadly, no,” she said, waving at a passel of kids charging by. “Walk!”
They slowed to a skip, which was about as good as it was probably going to get. Ryan nearly tugged my arm out of its socket. “Can I?” she whispered.
I nodded. She squealed and took after the rowdy group. It wasn’t like she needed my permission. But maybe I represented a safety net. An adult had entered the chat, and it was probably comforting and easy to defer to my judgment.
“I’ve only been here for five years,” Maya continued, “so Quinn’s employment period would’ve been a bit before my time. Sad story, that.”
I felt a little deflated because that meant she wouldn’t have met Raven Lee. And since the files of Moira McDaniels and Stacey Pittman had been on Quinn’s coffee table all those years ago, she probably wouldn’t know them, either. I asked her about all the women, just to cover my bases, and she shook her head in the negative.
“Sorry. But maybe my mother will know.”
At the sixty-watt smile Maya sent me, I was tempted to check her back for a battery compartment. I wasn’t about to make any sudden moves, though. I was the only man I’d seen thus far on the compound and the few women we’d passed had given me a thousand-yard, tase first, questions later stare.
We continued along the path, passing a fountain with a statue of a girl in the middle. She was caught mid-twirl as if dancing in the water, her outstretched arms forming a graceful arc.
“Lissette Pemburton,” Maya said before I could ask. “Daughter of our primary benefactor, Arianna Pemburton.”
“What happened to her?”
“She was killed by a sexual predator,” she said quietly. “She was snatched in a mall parking lot at knifepoint.”
There wasn’t much else to say about that. Not anything productive, anyway.
We passed a dark-haired woman sitting on a bench, reading a thick paperback. With her head downturned, her hair swept away from her neck. I could see the bruising on her pale skin. My jaw tightened. The marks looked fresh.
The woman glanced up as we approached and her ready smile dimmed, even as Maya called out a friendly, “Hello, Helena.”
She bobbed her head in response. I caught a glimpse of bright green eyes before she looked back down at her book quickly, as if so engrossed that even a word past a cursory greeting was too much. I had the feeling she wasn’t even seeing the page anymore. Her entire posture had changed from relaxed to still and ready. Like a rabbit that had spotted a pair of glowing feline eyes in the tree line. It was almost like she was used to fleeing but trying to make herself stay put. To remind herself that she was safe.
“It must be very hard, working here,” I said quietly.
“Sometimes,” Maya admitted. “But it’s also extremely rewarding.”
A few seconds before we reached her bench, Helena lost her inner battle. She closed her book and got up, hustling in the other direction. The grounds might be beautiful and picturesque, but it was impossible to forget why the entire compound was surrounded by bars. Some of these women were hunted. In fear for their lives.
And people running scared tended to have monsters at their heels.
Maya informed me that Evie was in the community garden and left me at the entrance with a smile and a wave. I spotted her straightaway, kneeling in the flowerbeds as she dug a hole with a small gardening trowel. Underneath a wide-brimmed, well-worn sunhat, her red-gold hair gleamed in the sun, a riot of waves and curls down her slender back.
I cast a shadow over her as I approached, but she didn’t look up. “Detective,” was all she said as she kept working. She had a large bucket next to her that was half-full of dirt—pungent dirt, I noticed with a wrinkled nose. Fertilizer, maybe? She also had a few trays of seedlings on a cart nearby. As I watched avidly, she reached in and spread a handful of fertilizer into the hole she’d dug.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” I said. “I just wanted to clear up a few things.”
“Of course,” she said simply. “Anything to help. But I don’t know what I could possibly add to the original investigation. We were very cooperative.”
I knew that to be true. They’d met with Zach several times and answered a host of questions. But they hadn’t mentioned a few things that I found very interesting. “Why didn’t you mention Quinn’s impending resignation?”
She glanced up at me, clearly surprised. The feeling was definitely mutual as I saw her face for the first time. She was classically pretty with a heart-shaped face, cornflower blue eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her face—well, half of it, anyway. On the left side, the skin was mottled and scarred from some sort of burn. And from the looks of her arms, the damage wasn’t contained to her face.
She was clearly waiting for my reaction. I wasn’t going to insult her by pretending I didn’t have one. “Accident?”
She shook her head, her half-twisted mouth lifting. “Very much an on-purpose, Detective. This was a gift from my uncle when he set my aunt’s room on fire.”
I grimaced. “I’m sorry.”
“I was a child.” She waved a gloved hand. “And it was a very long time ago.”
“I’m still sorry,” I said, because one had nothing to do with the other.
She inclined her head before she got back to planting her seedlings. “If Quinn intended to resign, it’s certainly news to me. I thought she was very happy here. She was certainly well-liked and did wonderful work. She loved being a part of something bigger than herself.”
