by Mary Maxwell
“Isn’t it amazing?” Louella said. “There are so many awful, horrible people in the world.”
“Luckily, they’re the minority,” I told her with a smile.
Tobias scoffed. “I always thought Evie Hale was in on it,” he said. “There was always something shifty about everybody in that family.”
Louella shook her head. “Just because you never liked her father,” she said, “that doesn’t mean Evie was always a bad person. She went through a difficult childhood with her parents arguing all the time. That can scar a person for life.”
“I don’t disagree,” said Tobias. “But the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
Louella patted his mouth with the napkin again. Then she turned to me and asked if anyone with the Crescent Creek Police suspected during the original investigation that Evie Hale was involved in her own kidnapping or the abduction and murder of Caroline Whitman.
“I certainly haven’t heard anything along those lines,” I said. “If they did suspect she was part of the scheme, I doubt that she’d be a free woman. The evidence and witness statements didn’t hint about anyone else being involved.”
“So it was just those four?” Tobias asked.
“Justin Kennedy and Corbin Porter,” I said. “Along with Evie and her brother.”
“And the Kennedy boy got off easy,” he added.
Louella sighed. “I don’t think death is preferable to prison,” she said. “The only difference is, Porter, Evie and Dwayne will face a jury of their peers.”
“There’s another possible outcome,” I said. “They could plead guilty to avoid a trial.”
Tobias grunted. “Damn cowards! I bet they try every trick in the book to get out of doing the time.”
Louella leaned in and reached for the box of donuts. Tobias clamped both hands on it and shook his head.
“Not done yet,” he said. “I’ve only had two.”
She scowled at him. “And what did the doctor say?”
Tobias shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you,” he said with a lopsided grin. “I got bonked on the head pretty good. My memory comes and goes at the moment.”
Louella laughed. “Yeah, but that was also happening before that lunatic attacked you.”
CHAPTER 40
I was in the Sky High kitchen drinking a cappuccino and eating a blueberry scone early the next morning before we unlocked the front doors. Julia was standing at the center island, cutting butter into cubes for biscuits. Harper was perched on a stool near the walk-in, recounting the dinner she and Bobby had the previous night while their kids were staying with his folks.
“We love those little nuggets,” she said. “But it’s nice to have the place to ourselves. We can do whatever we want without worrying the kids will suddenly appear out of nowhere and start asking questions.”
Julia laughed. “Or witness something they shouldn’t see?”
“Yeah,” Harper said with a smirk. “Like their daddy drinking milk from the carton while he stands in front of the refrigerator in his BVDs.”
“That sounds pretty decadent,” I said.
“Bobby and I aren’t wild and crazy like we used to be,” Harper said. “I can’t tell you the last time we stayed up past ten o’clock.”
“I can,” Julia volunteered. “Jared and I went to a movie with another couple. They drove and got a flat tire, but there was no spare. We were out on Mariposa Road for almost two hours waiting for AAA. It was midnight by the time we got home. Our babysitter was snoring on the sofa and Emma was asleep in our bed with a bag of potato chips.”
“Isn’t that right by where they found the dead guy?” Harper asked.
“His name was Justin Kennedy,” I said. “He was found right by the old gas station that Jen Stefanov and Lucy Marx planned to turn into a pottery studio last year.”
Julia glanced at me over her shoulder. “I bet you’re glad that’s all over with, right?”
“It’s always good to close a cold case,” I said. “Hopefully, it will also help Caroline’s family feel a little bit of peace now.”
“Do you think they will?” Harper asked. “After all these years, I bet it’s hard to get over that kind of deep pain.”
“I bet you’re right,” Julia said with a sigh. “Have either of you seen her folks around town?”
I shook my head. “I heard they went to visit friends in South Carolina for a couple of weeks,” I said. “That’s probably a good idea, too. You know, let the dust settle, spend some time walking on the beach and playing golf.”
I drank my cappuccino and thought about Caroline Whitman and Evie Hale and the senseless loss of life. There was no point trying to rationalize what had happened. Mainly because the actions of Corbin, Dwayne, Evie and Justin were as far from rational as you can get. Plenty of teenagers make thoughtless choices and take foolish risks, but the rebellious trio pushed the envelope past the breaking point. And for what—thrills, danger and money?
At some point, I bet they felt clever and brilliant, like master criminals above reproach. But then ever greater waves of greed and anger and entitlement infected Dwayne and Justin. They started bickering. They became paranoid. And their friendship splintered into a battle that ended with one death and three lives forever shattered.
“Yoo-hoo,” Harper said, cleaving my thoughts. “Did we lose you?”
“Not at all,” I replied, shaking off the hazy images of Caroline Whitman’s parents as they talked about their daughter’s murder. “I was just thinking about how and why those four went down the wrong path.”
“Which four?” Julia said.
“Corbin, Evie, Dwayne and Justin,” I answered.
“How did you crack the case?” Harper asked. “Did they all confess?”
“One crucial piece of evidence was the roll of duct tape in the briefcase that Maureen Vinton bought at Vintage View,” I explained. “The CCPD found three sets of fingerprints on it. They belonged to Corbin, Justin and Dwayne. The same tape was found with Caroline Whitman when her remains were located. And Evie essentially confessed to the scheme when Dina and I talked to her.”
Julia shook her head. “If they’d never made those choices, imagine what their lives would be like now. Evie would probably be happily married with children. Dwayne would be…I don’t know, maybe a professor. And Corbin would be—”
“He’d still be just as messed up,” Harper said quickly. “That ne’er-do-well was born under a bad sign.”
I smiled. “You’ve got that right,” I said. “But there’s always redemption.”
Harper scowled. “Not that one. Heck, not that entire family. Even the ones who appear to be normal turn into complete animals if they’ve had one too many cocktails.”
“That’s true,” I said. “But at least those members of the family haven’t been involved in homicide and kidnapping.”
“No,” Julia said. “They stick with speeding tickets, DUIs and kiting checks.”
“In that case,” I said, “there’s at least a strong through line.”
Julia considered the comment. Then she said, “Just like with your family, Katie. It’s all about the pies and cakes and cookies.”
Harper glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which,” she said, “we’ve got less than ten minutes to finish getting ready.”
“I’m set,” Julia replied, nodding toward the front line. “The grill’s toasty, the bins are all stocked and the pancake batter is fresh as can be.”
“I have a feeling that we’re going to be extra busy this morning,” I said.
They both smiled.
“Feel it in your bones, do you?” Harper teased.
I shook my head. “I just saw two tour buses pull into the parking lot,” I said. “Earl Dodd sent me a text last night that the Moonlight was completely full with a group from Iowa. I have a hunch that he probably sent them our way for breakfast.”
“Then we’d better get to it!’ Harper said. “Want to bet that at least one of those Hawkeyes w
ill order a Maid-Rite?”
Julia laughed. “I’ll bet five bucks,” she said. “Remember the last big group from there? All but one asked if we could make that sandwich.”
“Is that the one with ground beef?” I asked.
“You got it,” Julia said. “Ground beef topped with onions, pickles, mustard and ketchup.”
“For breakfast?” I smiled. “It sounds more like something for lunch.”
“Maybe,” Harper said. “But my friends from Iowa swear by it any time or day or night.”
“In that case,” Julia said. “I’ll bet you ten.”
CHAPTER 41
A few days later, I was in the office at Sky High Pies with my feet up on the desk when Harper knocked gently on the door.
“Somebody looks comfy,” she said.
“It helps me think,” I told her.
She nodded. “You know what helps me think?”
“Naps?” I guessed. “Or a week at the beach?”
Harper shook her head. “Exercise. We pump more blood to our brains when we work out and that improves our cognitive function so we can think better.”
“Nice to know,” I said, sliding my legs off the desk. “Do you need my cognitive function up front?”
“Everything’s under control,” she answered. “We’re down to three tables, two of which are just having pie and coffee.”
“Okay, so was this a courtesy visit to make sure that I was still awake?”
She giggled. “Louella Flint’s out front. She wanted to know if you could spare a minute or two.”
“Sure thing,” I said, getting up from the chair. “Is she in the dining room?”
“I offered to seat her,” Harper replied, “but she wanted to wait on the bench in the entry.”
As Harper went into the kitchen to check on the order for her third group of customers, I walked down the corridor toward the front door. Louella was sitting on the edge of a bench with her purse held gingerly in her lap. She got to her feet when I called her name.
“I sure hope this isn’t an imposition,” she said. “But I had to come over to this side of town to see the eye doctor. I promise not to take up too much of your time.”
“Are you kidding?” I said as she walked over and gave me a hug. “This is as far from an imposition as you can get. I’m delighted to see you again, Louella.”
Her smile was soft and delicate, as if she was relieved to learn that she wasn’t an unwelcome surprise.
“Thanks, Katie.”
“Do you want a cup of coffee?” I asked.
“Oh, no,” she said. “I’m only going to be here for a moment. I wanted to thank you for helping Detective Kincaid find answers to all of my questions about Evie’s kidnapping.”
“Questions?”
Louella sat on the bench again. “I never believed that child’s story back then,” she replied, nervously tugging on her right earlobe. “But I didn’t know what to do. The Hale family was rich and powerful. I needed the job. My son was very sick that summer. Without the money I earned working for the family as well as Mr. Hale’s help in getting to see the best doctors in Denver, there’s a good chance that Griffin wouldn’t be alive today.” She began to cry. “I’m so sorry for not being honest with the police that summer. Maybe the Whitman’s daughter could’ve been spared that horror if I’d been a braver woman and told the police the truth about those boys.”
“You don’t need to apologize to me,” I said. “Dwayne, Evie and Justin lied to you about what they were up to. How were you to know what was really going on?”
“I felt it in my bones,” Louella said, whisking away the tears with her hands. “I felt they were lying, but I chose not to force the issue.”
“Justin Kennedy was apparently quite convincing when it came to deception,” I said. “According to Chuck McBride, the detective that handled the two kidnapping cases that year, he and Chief Rollins spent quite a lot of time with Justin. He denied any involvement and had a solid alibi, so they—”
“An alibi that was based on Dwayne’s lies and threats,” Louella said, “as well as my own fear and weakness.”
I put one hand on her arm. “You are not weak. Raising your son as a single mother after your husband passed away took courage. Managing his illness alone took a fearless heart. And coming forward now to set the record straight took strength.”
She looked at the floor and shook her head. “I don’t want to argue,” she said, “but I will forever regret keeping those secrets during that nightmare. I knew Dwayne was lying. I knew that Justin did something wrong. And I had a hunch that Evie was somehow involved in what happened to her and Caroline. But I didn’t have strength or courage or faith in those days. I was barely hanging on. Nothing seemed possible. To be honest, it felt like the very earth itself was about to drop out from beneath my feet.”
“And here you are,” I said. “Still standing, still brave, still courageous.”
Louella heaved a sigh. “I’m just me. And I’m just trying to get through one day at a time.”
She wrapped her hand around mine. Then she closed her eyes and whispered what sounded like a prayer.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen to me,” she said a moment later. “But I hope and pray they don’t put me in jail.”
“For what?” I asked.
She took a deep breath. “For lying to the police back then. I told them Dwayne and Justin were at home both nights when Evie and Caroline were taken. And I kept saying the lies over and over and over.”
I nodded. Then I reached for her hand. And then I told her that the statute of limitations on misdemeanors was two or three years.
“What does that mean?” she whispered.
“You shouldn’t have anything to worry about,” I said. “Ten years have passed. And you weren’t involved in the felonies that were committed by the other folks.”
Her lips shifted into a puckered half-smile. “So I can stop fretting about jail?”
“I think you’re fine,” I said. “If it would make you sleep better, maybe consult with an attorney here in town.”
The partial smile bloomed. “What’s going to happen to Evie?”
“It’s in the hands of the judicial system,” I said. “There will be a trial, probably later this year. She’s already proclaiming either complete innocence or insanity, depending on the day. But whatever happens, Evie will pay for killing Justin Kennedy.”
“What about for helping him kill Caroline Whitman?” asked Louella.
“That’ll depend on the evidence,” I said.
“So she could be tried for that murder as well?”
I nodded.
“But isn’t there a limit,” she said “on how long after a crime someone can be charged?”
“The statute of limitations,” I replied. “All of those are decided on a state-by-state basis. Generally speaking, several felonies don’t have a statute of limitations. For example, murder, kidnapping, treason and forgery.”
Louella frowned as she considered my reply.
“So if someone kidnaps another person and isn’t arrested for ten or twenty years, they can still be taken to jail?” she asked.
“That’s exactly right,” I said. “If there’s enough evidence for a conviction. And that’s why Evie could potentially face charges in the kidnapping and murder of Caroline Whitman. If the prosecutors decide they have the irrefutable proof, they’ll try to convince a jury beyond a reasonable doubt that she worked alongside Justin Kennedy.”
She sat back and squared her shoulders. “Well, that would be a blessing,” she said. “I’ve been praying about this ever since I first suspected Evie was lying. I didn’t want that girl to be a criminal, but I also realized that the choices she made and the boys that she associated with set her on a bad path.”
“You sound pretty certain,” I said.
She lifted one hand and pressed it against her chest. “I feel it deep inside, Katie. I feel that Evie Hale started that summer
just as she always did, but somehow Justin, Dwayne and Vince Stafford convinced her to help with their scheme of trickery and crime.”
“Actually,” I said, “Vince wasn’t involved. He’s by no means an angel, but he wasn’t part of the kidnapping scheme.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“He passed a lie detector test,” I said. “And he actually had an alibi for both weekends when Evie and Caroline were abducted.”
“What was it?”
“He was in Denver teaching at a tennis camp,” I said. “The police have video as well as witness statements.”
“Well, that’s surprising,” she said. “All these years, I thought he had something to do with it. I’m relieved to know that at least one person from those days did the right thing.”
I smiled. “Vince might have plenty of skeletons in his closet,” I said, “but kidnapping is not among them.”
“So it was Evie and her brother,” Louella said, “along with the other two boys?”
“Young men,” I said. “They weren’t children.”
She sighed. “Such a waste. The Hale kids seemed to hold such promise when I first met the family. I suppose this whole wretched episode proves that you really can’t judge a book by its cover.”
“So true,” I said. “We never truly know what’s going on behind closed doors.”
“But I feel like I should’ve know,” Louella murmured, “especially with Evie. I spent so much time with her during those years. I tried to encourage and guide her almost as if she was my own daughter.”
“I’m sure that your kindness was appreciated,” I said.
“I hope so,” she replied.
We sat together in silence for a few moments. The tension on Louella’s face made it obvious she was wrestling with memories and hopes and doubts from her years with the Hale family. When it seemed that she was a bit more relaxed, I asked her one final question.
