Who She Was

by Braylee Parkinson

  “When she was a teen, Liza ran away and did what she wanted. We were disturbed by it, but we didn’t want her in the system. We let it ride itself out.”

  “You thought setting her up in a house of her own was best?”

  “We rented a house to Liza because we wanted her to be safe. You must understand: she was a disappointment at the time, but we never abandoned her. We didn’t want to condone her behavior, but we wanted her safe. Over the years, we’ve made a habit of renting those places to young single mothers, but Liza was an exception. It was just her and that…man, but we thought, well, why not? At least we know where she is.”

  “Did you visit her?”

  “Never. We told her to come home when she was ready. We weren’t going to accept her lifestyle, but we loved her. Mrs. Wilcox, you have to believe that we loved her.”

  “Did you know about Danica?”

  He waited, parted his lips, but didn’t speak.

  “Did you know about Danica?” I repeated.

  “We told her to have an abortion. We assumed she’d done that, but eventually, we found out that she’d had the child and left it with the Masters. It sounds callous, but we thought it was for the best. After all, we didn’t know much about…those types of children, so we thought it was best that the girl be with her people.”

  Disgusted by his inability to recognize that Danica was one of “his people,” I moved on to Madelyn.

  “You rented to Madelyn Price. Tell me how she fits into all of this.”

  “Madelyn was a good girl—one of my business associate’s daughters…Great grades, stable home. Somehow, she got mixed up with this Demario Masters character. Within a few months, she was pregnant. Her parents were outraged and wanted nothing to do with her after that. We’d met Madelyn a few times and had tried to forge a bond between the girls because we were looking for good influences for Liza. It was a total shock when Madelyn got pregnant. The two didn’t get along well, but after Liza went to visit Madelyn a few times, the girls seemed to have a friendship. Then the truth came out—it was Madelyn’s boyfriend who had caught Liza’s attention.”

  These women had a history of familiarity, but not necessarily friendship. How deep did the deception run?

  “Liza ended up starting a thing with Madelyn’s boyfriend?”

  “Yes. She started running away, skipping school, and not listening to a thing we said. We had no idea what to do with her. Eventually, we compromised. We set her up with a house in Brightmoor because that was where she wanted to be.”

  “How did Madelyn feel about Liza taking her boyfriend?”

  “Obviously, there was trouble between the two girls. Madelyn was angry, but she got over it real fast. Within a year of leaving that guy alone, she had graduated and was doing well. Eventually, she ended up getting an internship at my company, and kind of became like our surrogate daughter. During that time, sadly, we lost touch with Liza. She always mailed the rent check, so we never had to go over to collect. It’s sad and shameful, but we just couldn’t stand what she was doing.”

  Rivals…Liza and Madelyn had not only competed for Demario, they had also vied for the Abernathys’ affection. The prodigal daughter hadn’t been accepted back into the fold as easily as she’d been expelled. If a friend took my place in my family, we would no longer be friends, I thought to myself.

  “Madelyn Price was the person Liza was going to meet when she was murdered. What do you think about that? Surely, doubts about Madelyn’s alibi must have come up. She’s the last person to speak to your daughter, the person that first noticed she was missing, and the person Liza was going to meet.”

  Mr. Abernathy was quiet while he ran the information through his head.

  “Mrs. Wilcox, I can’t think of Madelyn in those terms.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because it would be like losing another daughter!”

  That made sense, but I needed to know what he really thought about all the coincidences involving Madelyn.

  “Mr. Abernathy, Madelyn Price is connected to your daughter’s last moment on this planet. I need you to think about what that really means. Realistically, she has to be the number one suspect.”

  “I have thought about it at times. It is strange that Madelyn is connected to Liza’s last hours of life, but I don’t believe that she killed my daughter.”

  “Think about it: Liza stole her boyfriend years ago, but Liza goes on to marry a rich man. She doesn’t get stuck with single motherhood because she abandons her kid, and Madelyn ends up raising a kid by herself. Madelyn doesn’t get a Prince Charming—imagine how the resentment festered. There were all those years of pretending to be friends when in reality, neither of them was thrilled to be connected.”

  Mr. Abernathy folded his hands in front of his face. He appeared to be considering that Madelyn Price could possibly be someone other than who he thought she was.

  “It does seem odd, but if you knew Madelyn the way we do, you would understand that she couldn’t have done this…She’s such a special soul.”

  I tried to imagine what had given Mr. Abernathy this impression of Madelyn. There had to be a missing piece to the puzzle. I could admit that she had the yoga culture running through her veins, but it was clear that she had been something other than that to them at one point. If the Abernathys had rented a house to her, they knew about her past. Why wouldn’t they take that into account?

  “Mr. Abernathy—Liza and Madelyn had a fight over Demario Masters. It’s something that the neighbors remember. Their rivalry wasn’t just a silly schoolgirl thing.”

  “Mrs. Wilcox, I think we’re just about done here. If you want to waste your time pursuing this avenue, feel free, but I don’t have anything to add to your suspicions. We love Maddie, and she was good for Liza.”

  I decided to let go of that angle.

  “What can you tell me about Liza and Carson?”

  “I think we’ve told you everything we know about that situation.”

  “Why were they together?”

  “Well, I guess there must have been a love between them. I—”

  “Mr. Abernathy, this is your baby girl. She’s dead; gone. And someone stole her from you. Just tell me why they were together. A surgeon marries a girl who isn’t getting along too well in life…How did that happen?”

  The words must have stung. Mr. Abernathy shook his head. A somber look came over his face before he said, “They’d always had a thing for one another. We knew the Starks from business deals in the past. Over time, we became friends; our kids played together. Peter never liked Carson, but Carson and Liza always had a bond. The Starks didn’t want them together…neither did we, but they ended up together.”

  Now it made sense. The connection had been cemented in childhood, much like myself and Derek. The childhood memories, those moments in life when you are free to be yourself—a young, fresh, innocent person—had been at the root of Liza and Carson’s love. It was poetic and bittersweet. Carson Stark, Type A personality, superstar surgeon and rich guy, never forgot his first love.

  “So, they were friends as children?”

  “Yes. They played together as children. For a while, they were best friends. Then, around the time Liza was seven, we cut off contact.”

  “Why?”

  “Liza wasn’t the type of girl Carson was supposed to marry.”

  I kept my composure as I listened to Liza and Carson’s love story.

  “Why is this such a big secret? Why not tell me that you’ve always known Carson?”

  “His father and I had some bad experiences. A lot of money was involved and we had a falling out. We haven’t spoken since then, even after Liza and Carson were married.”

  “Is there anything else you can think of that might help the investigation?”

  “No, but I want you to understand something: we loved Liza so much. Mistakes were made, but we loved her.”

  “One more question…”

  “Okay.”
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br />   “Are you supplementing Danica’s caretakers?”

  “What?”

  “Someone is sending money to Danica’s aunt. Is it you?”

  “No. Like I said, mistakes were made, but we wouldn’t do something stupid like that. There’d be no way to know that the money was being used for the girl.”

  “Thanks for your time, Mr. Abernathy,” I said, standing up and shaking his hand. Once again, I let myself out.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Abernathys had frustrated me with their need to keep up appearances. As I pulled out of the driveway, I reviewed other leads. Now I had another avenue to consider. There was much more to Liza and Carson’s story. Why hadn’t Carson told me they’d been childhood friends? I would contact him and schedule a meeting, but before I did that, I wanted to head back to the office and give myself time to digest the information.

  Martin was in the office when I got back, searching for information about the Abernathys.

  “Hey. How’d things go?”

  “Martin, you’re not going to believe what I found out, but before we get into that, let’s put our suspects on the board.”

  “What about the Abernathys? Anything important come from them?”

  “Yes.”

  “What?”

  “Madelyn and Liza were always competing, so much so that the Abernathys aren’t willing to consider that Madelyn could be involved in the murder because she’s like a daughter to them— possibly the favorite daughter. Also, Carson and Liza were childhood sweethearts, but the Abernathys cut off contact between them when they were young.”

  “What? Why didn’t Carson tell you that he and Liza were childhood sweethearts? That’s kind of weird.”

  “Right, so I think there is something we’ve missed. Let’s go through it together.”

  I clicked a few buttons on my computer, sending a file of pictures of our potential suspects to the printer.

  Martin grabbed the pictures as the machine spit them out and started taping them to the whiteboard.

  “First, we have Madelyn Price,” I said. “Yoga instructor, last person to talk with Liza, frenemy.”

  “Who’s next? Carson?”

  “No. Danica.”

  “You want the kid on the suspect list?”

  Danica had seemed sweet and soft when I’d trailed her that day, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have killed her mother, especially considering that her mom had abandoned her to a life of poverty while Liza and her half-siblings lived in luxury. Also, she was in Brightmoor—that meant she probably knew gang members and would have had access to opportunities to join.

  “Yes. Think about it…You know what Carson’s neighborhood is like, and you know what Brightmoor looks like. Imagine being left with a child-molesting felon and seeing that your mother had moved and had a new family.”

  “Good point—I guess she is a viable suspect. It would just be sad if she’s the one who pulled the trigger.”

  “Still, she has to be on there.”

  Martin added Danica to the suspect board.

  “Madelyn is the number one suspect, but Danica is a close number two.”

  “Any others?”

  “Sure…Carson Stark: husband, doctor, wealthy—seemed to love his wife but was not aware of wife’s past; remembers the little girl he knew before she took a stroll down thug lane. But Carson could have found out some of this stuff about Liza and reacted very strongly.”

  “Are the Abernathys Danica’s benefactors?”

  “Mr. Abernathy claims that they aren’t.”

  “Do you think Carson loved Liza?”

  “I do get the sense that he loved her, but Liza’s past is rather surprising. Carson has a good reputation to protect. Finding out that Liza had been a single mom who had gone slumming in Detroit would have been shocking…It could have been too much.”

  “Do you think he is the benefactor?”

  “Possibly, but he might also be angry about the whole situation. We’ll keep him up there. Next, we have Peter Abernathy. Liza’s bitter brother is the only other heir to the Abernathy money, and he seems to despise his sister. He was softer when I talked with him and Abigail, but the first meeting left a bad taste in my mouth. Also, money is a motivator for many crimes. We don’t know how much money, but we know they’re into real estate, so probably a decent amount.”

  “But the parents are in good health, right?” Martin asked.

  “Yes, but Liza wasn’t in the will until she rejoined the family.”

  “Why wait to kill Liza?”

  “I don’t know, but we need to leave him on the list.”

  Martin picked up the blank piece of paper.

  “What’s this for?”

  “The mystery Brightmoor boyfriend.”

  “What do we know about him?”

  “Well, lives in Brightmoor, so he’s poor; let’s also assume he’s black because ninety percent of the population in that area is, and let’s say he is a drug dealer.”

  “That’s a lot of speculation,” Martin said.

  “Sure, but he’s my suspect to create,” I said, winking at him.

  “Any other suspects?”

  I tried to think of any other people to add to the list.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “What about a random killer?”

  “Random killers are always a possibility, but I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Liza was murdered in Brightmoor. She drove herself there, had been seen hanging around in the previous weeks, and she was shot five times. Something was pulling her to that place, and whoever shot her made it personal. Also, she wasn’t robbed: her diamond ring, money, purse, and truck were left behind.”

  “What do you think about the ex-con guy she lived with?”

  “He could have had a minion kill her, but it would be odd because of the time lapse. That’s the only thing about that scenario—it doesn’t make sense.”

  “Okay, then we just have three suspects, and only two are really viable, right?”

  I sighed and shook my head. As uncomfortable as Peter had made me feel during the first meeting, he didn’t feel like a good suspect.

  “Let’s fill out the reports for the suspects, file them, and go home. We’ve had enough for today.”

  We copied the information from the whiteboard into files for each, put them away, and closed up shop. I told Martin to meet me at the office at 9:00 a.m. the next day and headed home.

  The house was too quiet and still that night. I put on Vivaldi’s “Winter”, found some kale, spinach, and garlic in the refrigerator, and began chopping the trio. Once everything was chopped, I tossed it in the blender, added basil, parmesan, and olive oil, and blended the combination. Eventually, I sat down with a bowl of Fettuccini with pesto for dinner. As I forked savory, green-coated pasta into my mouth, I considered who would be the most viable suspect. Madelyn had been the best lead, but the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of the Masters family being behind Liza’s murder. Carson Stark would be calling for an update soon. What was I going to tell him? I finished my pasta and headed for my home office.

  I was piecing together a timeline of Liza’s life when the phone rang. I stuck another clue on the whiteboard before answering.

  “Hello?”

  “You’re not looking in the right places.” A dry, scratchy voice croaked into the phone.

  “Hello? Who is this?”

  “You’re looking for something that isn’t there. A generation that didn’t care went and followed the ultimate dare. You won’t find tracks to trust, but building a case is a must. The past holds the clues that lead to the truth.”

  The voice was raspy, scratching my eardrums. A chill ran down my spine.

  It was close to midnight and my eyes had begun to burn with exhaustion. Even so, I stumbled around the office searching for a pen and paper. A pen pierced the palm of my hand, but I shook off the pain as I struggled to find a sl
ip of paper to write on. I ripped a piece of paper out of a notebook and began writing down what I had heard.

  “The past holds the clues that lead to the truth…What else do you want to tell me?” I muttered into the phone, to keep the person on the other end talking. The voice was carefully crafted to sound male, but I could hear a hint of femininity behind the riddle. I jotted down the strange message.

  “Yes. A generation that didn’t care went and followed the ultimate dare.”

  ‘A generation that didn’t care’…Was this a reference to Liza? She hadn’t cared about her family’s past. The fact was that they were well-off, white, and not interested in mingling with people outside of their immediate social sphere.

  “Who is this?” I asked in vain.

  “A friend who cared, but couldn’t stay there to see her die inside.”

  The voice was creepy and weird, and the phone call was just plain annoying. If this person knew who had killed Liza, why not just spill the beans, for goodness sake?

  I repeated the words as I wrote them down.

  “A friend who cared? Who did the friend care about? Liza Abernathy?”

  “No,” the voice snapped, harsh and cold.

  “Madelyn Price?”

  “No.” Another snap.

  “Then who?” I asked.

  No response.

  “I’m listening. What do you want to tell me?” I asked.

  The phone disconnected. I tried to remember the voice. Had I heard it before? The riddles were similar to the messages Madelyn had received. I didn’t think I’d heard the voice before, but because it was disguised, I couldn’t be sure. What did the riddle mean? I racked my brain for the next hour or so, trying to figure out what the caller wanted and who they were. Eventually, I had to admit that I had no idea who the caller was. I went to bed and suffered through a night of restless sleep.

  “I’m looking for Mrs. Sylvia Wilcox.”

  The phone had rung seven times before I picked up. My brain was searching for clarity as I held the phone to my ear.