No Place In Heaven, page 9
“You’ve been very helpful. Thank you, Chloe. Ms. Adams says she’s missing you at the academy,” Mia said.
“I know. I just don’t want to go there right now. It’s too hard without Clary,” the girl said softly.
“Aw, honey. Come here.”
Joanna pulled her in for a hug. Her eyes, the same soft brown as her daughter’s, sheened over with moisture, and she closed them and rocked Chloe side to side. The mother-daughter bond was clearly strong between Chloe and Joanna. For just a moment, Mia felt that familiar longing. What must it be like to grow up with a loving and supportive mother?
Roman waited until Joanna had released Chloe and both sat back in their chairs.
“Did Clary have a boyfriend? Maybe a secret one like the secret book?”
“No way. She wasn’t into boys. At least, none of the boys around here. She said she was waiting until she met someone older and worthy. She said anyone less was just a waste of her time.”
“Chloe…um…do you think Clary might have liked girls?” Mia asked.
“What? You mean was she a lesbian? No. Not hardly. I’d have known. She liked boys plenty but not to get serious with if you know what I mean.”
“How about Timothy Greer? You might have met him walking with Clary to Dance on Air,” Roman said.
Chloe’s face scrunched up and her shoulders shuddered. “Clary would never have dated Timothy. He was weird. Like Aspergers or something.”
“And she didn’t mention anyone bothering her or anything she was worried about?” Mia asked.
“No. She really didn’t. And she would have told me for sure. I’m her best friend.” Chloe leaned forward and clasped her hands together on the table. “Please, you have to find her. I miss her so much.”
“We’re doing everything we can. And you’ve been a big help today,” Roman said. “Something else we’d like to know about is Clary’s diary. I don’t suppose she gave it to you for safe keeping?”
Chloe’s brown eyes went wide. “No. She never gave it to me. Maybe she has it with her…wherever she is.”
Mia leaned forward and fixed her gaze on Chloe’s face. “What did it look like? Did she let you read it?”
“It was pink and it had stickers on the front. But I didn’t read it. Or…okay…maybe one day it was open on her bed, and I sort of glanced at the page. I shouldn’t have.” Her eyes shifted to her mother’s face then down to where her hands still rested on the table. “It wasn’t anything private though just a bunch of dates and numbers.”
Roman nodded. “Do you know what it meant? Did you ask her about it?”
“No. I didn’t want her to know that I’d looked. I don’t know what it meant either. It reminded me of like an income statement or something except there weren’t any expenses. I’m taking accounting this year, and it’s really fun.”
“Have you met any of Clary’s friends from high school? Or maybe just friends of the Parsons? We were over there earlier today, and the Moreys stopped by for lunch after church. Mrs. Parsons said she took you to church with them a couple of times.”
“Yeah. It was okay. I liked the singing best. Clary hated going. She said it was totally bogus. I know the Moreys. They’re really nice. Mrs. Morey makes the best snickerdoodle cookies and sometimes Mr. Morey would stop in and talk to Clary and me if we were hanging out in her room.” She paused and frowned. “Clary didn’t like it when he did that though. She said it wasn’t right for him to hang out with teenage girls, but he would just wink at her like he thought she was joking or something. I don’t think she was joking though.”
“Was she afraid of him?” Roman asked.
Chloe immediately shook her head. “No. Not hardly. It was more like she was disarmed…no that’s not right.” She turned to her mom. “What’s that word when you’re looking down on someone?”
Joanna smiled and patted Chloe’s head. “Disdainful?”
“Yeah. Disdainful. That’s it. She told me once that Mr. Morey—well, she always called him Shawn when she talked about him to me—wasn’t all that holy like he pretended to be when he was at church.”
Joanna’s eyes went on alert, and she turned in her chair to face her daughter. “What did she mean? Did Mr. Morey ever…do anything…to make you feel uncomfortable?”
Now Chloe rolled her eyes. “No, Mom. He wasn’t like a diddler or anything. I think she knew something about him that maybe wasn’t so good. I don’t know what though. She never told me and when I asked her, she just smiled and said everyone had secrets and some were really bad.”
“Did you ever see Shawn…I mean, Mr. Morey playing with Gabriel? Do you think he likes dogs?” Mia asked.
“Um…sure…” Chloe seemed confused by the sudden change of topic. “Doesn’t everyone like dogs? And Gabe is really cute. It was sad when he went missing. I actually prayed that they’d find him, and they did, so it sorta worked. I’ve been praying for Clary too, but I guess the God thing doesn’t always work.”
She sniffed and wiped at her eyes where once again, tears gathered. Joanna sighed and glanced over to Roman and Mia.
“Okay. I think that’s enough for now. Chloe, I made chocolate chip cookies this morning. Why don’t you treat yourself to a couple while I walk the detectives to the door?”
Once they reached the foyer and were well out of earshot of the kitchen, Joanna whirled on them. “Do you think this Shawn Morey could have done something to Clary? Chloe was around their family quite a bit these last few months. Oh, God. I hope he doesn’t target her next.”
Roman held up a hand. “Easy there. At this time, we have no evidence to link Shawn Morey to Clary’s disappearance. He’s someone we’re looking into only because we look into anyone who was known to her and might have had opportunity. That includes a whole lot of people. If we uncover anything that points to Shawn as a solid suspect, we’ll contact you immediately. Tell me, what did you think of Clary?”
“Oh, well, she was a bright girl. Pretty. Passionate about dance.” Joanna blew out a breath and patted her chest. “I sometimes found her…I don’t know how to say it exactly…but she could be a bit entitled and full of herself. Like the rules didn’t apply to her. One time I overheard her telling Chloe that boys were stupid and the only thing they cared about was sex. That you just had to make them think you’d sleep with them, and they’d do practically anything you wanted. You can believe Chloe and I had a big discussion after Clary went home. And I have to admit I was a little apprehensive about their friendship from that point on. Chloe’s still just a young girl in so many ways and Clary seemed…I guess she was just more worldly.”
“You’re talking about Clary in past tense,” Mia commented.
“Oh, gosh…I didn’t mean…it’s not…” She lowered her voice. “I guess, deep down, I think she’s maybe not coming back, if you know what I mean. I’m just trying to prepare for what this will do to my daughter. I hate that her childhood is being cut short.”
“And I’m sure the Parsons hate that Clary’s life might be cut short,” Roman said mildly.
Joanna paled, and her shoulders hunched towards her ears. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me. What they’re facing is unmentionable. My heart goes out to them.”
“If you think of anything else, any interaction between Clary and Chloe that seemed off or just a basic gut feeling, I hope you’ll reach out to us. Thanks for letting us talk to Chloe today. She seems like a lovely young woman,” Roman said.
“You’re welcome. I’ll keep praying for Clary. Sometimes miracles happen, right?”
The sun was setting when they stepped out of Chloe’s house and walked to where their SUV was parked on the road.
“Okay, we have to hit up Shawn. There was definitely something going on there,” Mia said as Roman pulled away from the curb.
“Oh, yeah there was. But we’ll stay on plan and talk to Alice next. They’re expecting us in about an hour.”
Chapter Ten
Alice Bronson lived in a large, square colonial-style house in one of the more affluent sections of Dalton. Here the houses were set well back from the road and surrounded by manicured lawns and landscaping that would, in all likelihood, require professional services to maintain. Mia counted five medium-sized dogwood trees flanking each side of the driveway as they made their way to a parking area bordered by deep beds of lush flowers.
The spacious front porch contained a couch, two chairs, a collection of potted plants, and a blue patterned rug which matched the colors of the shutters. An enormous mirror hung on the wall, and overhead a crystal chandelier gleamed in the dying rays of the sun. Mia studied the slim, copper chain hanging to the side of the door and pulled it gently. The doorbell sounded like an organ and played the first few notes of “Joy to the World.”
They stood waiting for several minutes, and Roman was on the point of ringing again when the door swung open revealing a blonde woman in wide-legged black pants, a cream silk blouse, and pearls layered around her neck with several gold chains.
“Can I help you?” she asked, her voice soft and pleasant.
“Mrs. Bronson, I’m Roman Mancini and this is Mia Reeves. I talked to you earlier today. Is it still okay if we sit down with Alice?”
Her smooth face barely changed expression, but she blinked her long, curled lashes several times, and Mia could see puzzlement in the woman’s eyes. Then she nodded slowly.
“Of course. Sorry. It slipped my mind. And you can call me Margaret. Please, come in. I’ll have Alice come down for you.”
Inside, the foyer was all white marble and large gold-framed artwork—mostly of trees and grassy fields. Margaret shut the over-sized front door and stepped to a small screen set into the wall.
She tapped it and spoke. “Alice. Can you come downstairs, please. You have visitors.”
“Can’t it wait? I’m Snapping Daniella right now. It’s really important,” came the disembodied voice.
“Okay, honey. I’ll serve refreshments, but make sure you’re down in five minutes.” She turned to Roman and Mia. “Those girls and their Snapchat. It really is an obsession. But it seems better than so many of the other bad things young people can get into. Why don’t I set the two of you up in the family room? You’ll be comfortable there.”
“Anywhere is fine. Thanks,” Roman said.
Mia and Roman followed Margaret past a formal-type sitting room, a wood-paneled library, a music room with a collection of guitars grouped together on special stands beside a grand piano, and through a gleaming white kitchen with a massive center island. On the far side of the kitchen was a Great room and for once, it lived up to the hype of the name.
A free-standing glass fireplace set the dividing line between the two areas. The far wall was taken up with a flat-screen TV and in front of it sat the largest sectional sofa Mia had ever seen, filling at least half of the room. Two groupings of two club chairs each rounded out the remainder of the area. Tall, leafy potted plants populated every corner and along open wall space. The floors and ceiling were wood, something rich and dark that gleamed against the soft white walls and furniture. A fluffy, cream rug covered the floor by the sofa, and Mia noted it was very similar in style to the one in Clary’s bedroom.
“Please, make yourself at home.” Margaret gestured to the Great room. “What can I get you? Wine? Beer? I make a good martini if that’s to your liking.”
“Um…coffee or soda will do me,” Roman said.
“Perrier, thanks,” said Mia. “You have such a lovely home. Did Clary come here often?”
“Every week or so I would say. Daniella’s here more. But then Clary is busy with…” Margaret paused before opening a bottle of Perrier and frowning down at the counter. “Is it tennis? I can’t remember, but she’s always off practicing something or other.”
“She’s a dancer,” Roman supplied.
Margaret’s eyebrows lifted fractionally. It was apparently as much surprise as she was capable of showing given the constrains of the Botox. “I’m not sure I realized Clary was into dance. I’m amazed her mother encouraged her down that avenue. It’s hardly something she can use in the future. Now tennis or golf…those are excellent sports to cultivate. Upper class. Social. And if you join a nice country club somewhere, it makes the whole thing even more pleasant. I wish they had something like that around here.”
“What do you think of Clary? Is she a nice girl?” Roman asked.
Margaret didn’t say anything while she scooped out ice and poured the Perrier and Coke into glasses. She glided across the kitchen and handed the drinks to Mia and Roman before gracefully lowering to a chair and folding her hands into her lap.
“Yes. She was fine. I really don’t understand why you’re asking so many questions about Clary.”
“Mrs. Bronson…Margaret…Clary has been missing for almost six weeks. We’re looking into her disappearance,” Roman said.
Margaret’s mouth formed an ‘O,’ and she shifted back in the chair. “I don’t think I knew that. What happened? Did she run away?”
“No one knows.” Roman tipped his head. “Why do you think she ran away? Did she ever talk about it?”
“Well…no…but she seemed…restless. The Parsons’ financial circumstances and Dalton itself were much too small for that girl. I think she wanted a big life.”
“I don’t understand what you mean. How do you know she was unhappy?” Roman asked.
“Oh…little things, I guess. She was very interested in how this house had been decorated. So many questions about art and furniture and our antique rugs. She told me several times she’d have a big penthouse apartment one day and fill it with all the finest pieces. And…I’ll admit, she has a good eye. Her tastes are a little more eclectic than mine.” Margaret paused and glanced approvingly around the room. “I do like my quiet and restful color palette.”
“She wanted nice things?” Mia asked.
“Yes. Definitely.” Margaret nodded once. “And like I said, she was hungry to learn about outfitting a house, how to dress, designer handbags, that sort of thing. She wanted to look and feel rich and successful. That’s why I was able to overlook it when she…well…Clary stole a few items from the house. I was so angry at first but then I remembered how badly I’d wanted things when I was younger. I didn’t come from money so in a lot of ways, I could relate to that deep want in Clary.”
“What did she take?” Roman asked.
“Oh, a Hermes bag and a small Voisine sculpture.” She fluttered her hand in front of her. “Nothing important in the scheme of things. And she gave back the sculpture. See, it’s right over there. I let her keep the bag. It wasn’t something I was using anymore anyway.”
“Mom. Stop throwing shade on Clary. You’re being so savage right now.”
Roman and Mia turned to see the girl standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Her long blonde hair tumbled in careful curls around her face and down her back. She was tall and slim and had pale skin and large green eyes. Her mouth turned down in a sulky frown, and she glared at her mother.
“Oh, Alice. Good. You’re here,” Margaret said. “This is…” She turned to Mia and Roman. “I’m so sorry, but I’ve forgotten your names.”
“Roman and Mia,” Roman said, standing and smiling at Alice. “We were hoping to talk to you about Clary.”
Alice turned the sulky stare onto Roman and said nothing. For a minute, Mia thought she was going to refuse, but then she sighed hugely and slouched across the kitchen before flopping down on a chair opposite the couch.
“Sure. I have a couple of minutes.” She glanced down at the sparkly pink phone in her hand and tapped on the screen. “What do you want to know?”
Margaret rose and smiled. “Why don’t I leave you to it? I have a very thorny problem to deal with on my charity attendance spreadsheet, so I’ll say goodbye now.”
“Don’t you want to stay while we question Alice?” Mia asked.
“I raised my daughter to be a competent and capable young woman. She’s mature enough to deal with this on her own. Lovely to meet you.”
With that, she sailed out of the room. There was a humming beat of silence. Then Roman sat again and focused his gaze on Alice.
“Have you heard from Clary since she went missing?”
“Negativo. She’s a total ghost.”
“What do you think happened to her?” Roman asked
With her eyes still fixed on the screen of her phone, Alice shrugged. “How should I know?”
“But you were friends, right? Sometimes friends tell one another secrets,” Mia said.
“Nope. No secrets. She was just there one day and gone the next.” Her phone pinged, and she smiled down at something then began typing.
Roman watched her for several seconds then cleared his throat. “Alice. It would be great if we could have your full attention. This is really important. Clary’s life might depend on it. Don’t you want to find your friend?”
Alice held up a finger then replied to another text. Finally, she set the phone down on the arm of the chair and lifted her gaze to Roman’s face.
“Sure, I want to help, but I don’t know anything. I literally have no idea where Clary went.”
“Okay. I understand. But we still have questions. For instance, according to Mr. and Mrs. Parsons, Clary recently outfitted her room with a number of new items. She told them you had given her those things. Is that true?”
Immediately, Alice shook her head. “You’re kidding, right? I saw her bedroom makeover—that’s what she called it—and most of that stuff is junk. Like, she ordered from totally basic stores like Home Sense and Ikea. I’d rather die than have that crap in my room. Still, it made her happy I guess and not everyone can afford Restoration Hardware. At least her room looked better than it used to. I don’t know why she told her parents the story though.” She paused and her eyebrows scrunched together. “It does explain her begging me to get the stuff shipped here. She said it was cause there’s always someone at my house to like sign for orders and stuff. Even if my mom’s not home, Darla, our maid, will take care of it.”
