by Dan Padavona
“Derek didn’t come to school today. Did he get into a fight with his stepfather again?”
“Valerie, we found Derek beside the train tracks last night. He’s dead.”
The teenager stared at Presley in challenge, as if battling her would alter reality and bring Derek back. Reality struck her, and she leaned into her mother, sobbing as Charisse stroked her hair. The detective waited until Valerie pulled herself together.
“When did you last speak with Derek?”
Valerie sniffled and gave Presley a hazy look.
“Around midnight, I guess.”
The father’s head snapped to Valerie.
“What? You were with Derek at midnight?”
Valerie rested her hands on the table and shredded a tissue.
“I sneaked out of the house after you fell asleep.”
Charisse dropped her face into her hands. Ed was a boiling pot with a stuck lid.
“You left the house with your boyfriend on a school night?” He pointed an accusing finger at Charisse. “I told you Derek Jordan would ruin Valerie’s life. We never should have allowed them to date.”
Reigning in the conversation, Thomas asked, “Where did you last see Derek?”
Valerie swiped the tissue under her nose.
“We hung out near the train tracks for a while. He needed to go home, so we split up.”
“Some gentleman Derek Jordan was,” Ed said, grumbling. “Who takes a girl down to the train tracks? Only criminals frequent that area after dark.”
“He walked me to the end of the street and waited until I entered the house.”
The father scoffed and glanced away.
“Did you notice anyone else during your walk?” Thomas asked.
Valerie shook her head.
“No, it was just the two of us.”
“No cars drove past?”
“Not that I remember.”
Thomas pulled a chair from the table and turned it around. He sat and faced the Leonard family as Valerie peered down at her blurry reflection.
“How long had you dated Derek?”
Her left shoulder lifted a fraction. More of a twitch than a committed reply.
“Not until last night. We’d been friends for a long time, close friends since summer. I saw it coming, but was too afraid to ask him out.”
“I never should have allowed you anywhere near that lowlife,” Ed said, interjecting himself into the conversation.
“Please let your daughter finish, Mr. Leonard,” said Presley.
Ed Leonard muttered under his breath and set his fists on the table.
“Derek asked me out last night. Before, I figured he only wanted to be friends.”
“At any point, did Derek tell you he was concerned someone wanted to hurt him?”
“Why would anyone want to hurt Derek?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out. We understand he partied with Leland Trivett and Gardner Raimi.”
“Yeah, I guess. We’re all seniors. Everyone parties now and then.”
“What can you tell me about Derek’s friends?”
Valerie tossed the tissue in the garbage and ripped another out of the box.
“Not much to tell. Leland is a bit of a prankster. The three of them have been friends since grade school.”
“They ever get into fights with Derek?”
“No.”
“Did Derek have any enemies?”
Valerie shook her head and cried into her palm.
“When you and Derek split up last night, did he say where he was going?”
“Home, I guess.”
“He didn’t tell you he was heading to Leland’s house to party?”
Valerie swung her head back and forth.
“That sounds wrong. Derek had an essay due in the morning and a test to study for.”
Thomas turned to Charisse.
“Did you hear your daughter come in?”
Charisse gave Ed a confused glance.
“I went to bed a little after ten. We use a white noise machine that plays ocean sounds in the bedroom. Valerie gets loud when she’s on the computer.”
“So you aren’t sure when your daughter returned home.”
“I didn’t even realize she’d left the house.” Charisse dropped a hand on her daughter’s. “Valerie, you need to tell us before you leave. What if something had happened to you?”
“That won’t be a problem again,” the father said, tightening his jaw. “You’re grounded until graduation. And if you ever disobey me like this again, I’ll take that precious computer of yours and toss it in the river.”
Thomas ignored Valerie’s father.
“Leland Trivett acknowledged Derek was supposed to spend the night. According to Leland, he never showed.” Thomas saw confusion in Valerie’s eyes. Derek had told her he needed to go home, then ran to his friend’s house instead. “Maybe Derek told you he wasn’t going home, and the two of you argued.”
“Are you claiming I hurt Derek?”
Though Thomas doubted Valerie Leonard murdered her boyfriend, he couldn’t rule her out. Her father owned a dark-colored sedan. What if she drove back in her father’s car and stabbed Derek?
“Just trying to understand what happened last night. You were the last person to see Derek alive.”
Ed Leonard stood and bumped the table, spilling Charisse’s water.
“That’s enough. No more questions. My daughter is trying to process the news, and you aren’t helping matters.”
“What about you, Mr. Leonard? Where were you between the hours of midnight and two in the morning?”
“As we pointed out, my wife and I fell asleep after ten.”
“Can anyone corroborate your whereabouts?”
“This is harassment. You know the answer. My wife was asleep, and my daughter left the house.”
Thomas opened his wallet and removed a card. Below the office phone number, he scribbled his personal cell and handed it to Valerie.
“If you remember anything that will help us find the person who killed Derek, call or text me. Anytime.”
Valerie lifted the card, studied the number, and tucked it into her pocket without saying a word.
“She won’t call you,” Ed Leonard said. “Because she doesn’t know who did it. Leave my daughter out of your investigation.”
“Mr. Leonard, do you drive a black Volkswagen Passat?”
“You already knew I owned a Passat, or you wouldn’t have asked.”
“Mind if we look at the vehicle?”
“Why?”
“Please, it will only take a moment.”
The father puffed out his chest.
“Not without a warrant.” He swept his arm toward the entryway. “It’s time you left, Sheriff. The next time you speak with my family, my lawyer will be present.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
October 31st
3:10 p.m.
Over the two years Raven had frequented Ruth Sims’s Broken Yolk cafe, she’d never seen it so busy. Every seat was taken, and the teenage girl behind the counter worked double-time to fill orders as the line weaved back to the sitting area. Scents of freshly baked bread, donuts, and coffee co-mingled and made Raven’s mouth water. She’d promised Aguilar, who drove to meet Lambert at the farmhouse, she’d stay inside the cafe until her friends arrived.
As she nibbled on a donut, she wondered about Mark Benson. He’d risked his freedom by pursuing Ellie Fisher. Had the convict fled New York after escaping prison, he would’ve had a better chance to escape the country. She understood why he returned to his former haunts—he needed the money he’d hidden away, and he craved the perceived safety familiarity lent. But why double down and kidnap Fisher a second time? How desperate was Benson for money?
Raven looked up from her coffee when the door opened, ringing the bell inside the cafe. A mix of relief and frustration poured through her bones when Chelsey led LeVar and Darren inside. Her friends represented safet
y. But everyone assumed she couldn’t defend herself.
“Finally, we caught up to you,” Chelsey said, sliding into the chair across from Raven’s.
Darren leaned over and kissed Raven on the forehead. LeVar gave her shoulder a squeeze and sat beside Chelsey.
“How are things at the farmhouse?” Raven asked. As deep as she’d interjected herself into the investigation, she was glad she hadn’t accompanied Chelsey and LeVar to the farmhouse. The old home in the country held too many horrifying memories.
“Deputy Lambert pulled two prints from the bedroom. It appears Benson didn’t wear gloves.”
“The psycho feels comfortable at the farmhouse,” LeVar said. “My guess is he’ll return if he can’t escape New York today. Did Benson really go after Ellie Fisher again?”
Torn pieces of paper from a sweetener packet lay before Raven. She’d nervously shredded the packet without noticing. Embarrassed, she swept the pieces into her palm and tossed them into a garbage can.
“That’s my theory,” said Raven. “I never saw Benson’s face, just a guy hanging back in the shadows who fit Benson’s profile. But it had to be him. We can’t underestimate this guy. He swindled Fisher into meeting him at the park.”
Chelsey scanned a menu as she replied.
“Benson must have researched Fisher while he was in jail. That’s the only way he could have known she worked for the advertising firm.”
“Cons get computer access in prison,” Darren said. “A Google search is all you need.”
“But his plan fell through, and now he has the sheriff’s department, Kane Grove PD, and state police hunting him down. It’s time to get out of Dodge.”
“How much did he pull out of savings before the arrest?”
“About a grand,” Raven said, peering out the window.
“That’s enough for a plane ticket out of the country.”
Chelsey folded her arms and leaned back.
“Flying is too risky. He’d need fake identification, which isn’t easy to obtain when the authorities are one step behind. And he’d have to alter his appearance so security didn’t recognize him.”
Raven nodded.
“I agree. Benson didn’t have enough money to buy a fake ID, change his appearance, and purchase an international flight ticket on short notice.” Raven looked across the table at LeVar. “What would you do, if you wanted to escape the country before the police caught you?”
“Oh, sure. Ask the banger how to flee the country. Once a criminal, always a criminal.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
LeVar smirked.
“My boy knows how to hot-wire a vehicle. Stealing another car is always an option.” LeVar rested his chin on his palm and closed his eyes. “Nah. He needs to maintain a low profile. Another car theft increases his risk.”
“So how does he escape the country? It’s an awfully long walk to Mexico.”
“I’d buy a bus ticket,” Darren said.
“Don’t you need identification to buy a bus ticket?”
“Some carriers allow travelers without identification to buy a ticket online. It usually costs the purchaser an extra twenty bucks. But it can be done. Benson would need to find someone to purchase the ticket for him.”
Chelsey shook her head and said, “I don’t buy it. That’s an extra hoop for Benson to jump through. We’re assuming he didn’t have a fake ID already.”
“You’re right,” Raven said. “He thought ahead while he held Ellie Fisher for ransom. Not only did he withdraw his savings, but he hid the money, assuming he’d need to grab it and run if the authorities closed in on him. It only makes sense he purchased identification before the arrest.”
“And kept it with his money.” Chelsey swung her gaze from LeVar to Darren. “With ID, he could stroll into any bus terminal and purchase a ticket. The security in those places is nothing like an airport.”
“Clerks in bus stations don’t ask questions, either,” Darren added.
“But Wolf Lake doesn’t have a bus terminal.”
LeVar pushed the dreadlocks off his shoulder.
“The closest options are Harmon and Kane Grove.”
“Benson spends a lot of time in Kane Grove,” Darren said.
“When Aguilar and I entered the gym,” said Raven. “Someone had used the showers.”
“That’s a great place for Benson to hide if he found a way inside. He could clean up and shave off the mustache, alter his appearance just enough that a bus station clerk who’d seen Benson’s photo on television wouldn’t recognize him.”
LeVar pulled out his phone.
“If we want bus schedules out of Kane Grove, I know just the person to hunt down the information. I’ll text Scout.”
“Have her focus on routes to southern Texas,” Chelsey said. “Once Benson gets that far, he’ll sneak across the border.”
The double doors to the kitchen opened. Joining the teenager at the counter, Ruth Sims brushed flour off her apron. She noticed LeVar and his friends at the table and waved. LeVar’s smile seemed forced as he waved back. After Ruth returned to the kitchen, Raven held LeVar’s eyes.
“What was that about?”
“What?”
“That look on your face. Are you having problems with Ruth?”
“Hell, no. Ruth and I get along just fine.”
“Then why did you paint that smile on your face before you waved back?”
They were all staring at LeVar now. The teenager ran a hand through his hair.
“I can’t keep doing this. Ruth has me working twenty hours a week. Between the Wolf Lake Consulting internship and school, I barely have time to breathe.”
“Tell her you need to drop the job,” Darren said, keeping his voice low.
“I can’t do that to Ruth. She gave me a job when nobody else would. What cafe hires the enforcer for the Harmon Kings and trusts him with the cash?”
“You’re a good guy, and you’re loyal,” Chelsey said, patting LeVar on the shoulder.
“But you’re running yourself ragged,” said Darren. “Be honest. Do you plan to work at the Broken Yolk forever?”
“Well, no.”
“So don’t beat yourself up over this. Ruth will understand.”
“I don’t know, dawg. Ruth always has my back, one hundred percent.” LeVar’s phone buzzed with a received message. He lifted the phone and swiped to his texts. “Scout found our information.”
“She always does,” Raven said with a grin. LeVar set the phone on the table for everyone to read. Raven scanned the schedule. “The last bus left Kane Grove at two o’clock. Benson fled the municipal park around that time.”
“When does the next bus depart?” Chelsey asked, leaning over the table as she squinted at the screen.
Raven smirked, realizing Chelsey needed glasses. She tried to picture her friend wearing readers.
“Eleven o’clock tonight. The next bus out of Kane Grove departs at five-fifty tomorrow morning.”
Chelsey removed her phone from her pocket and held up a finger. After dialing, she pressed the phone to her ear and waited for someone to answer.
“Yes, I’m interested in purchasing a bus ticket for this evening.” Chelsey paused while the clerk confirmed her information. “That’s right, a ticket for eleven o’clock.” After the clerk replied, Chelsey scrunched her brow. “Canceled? All right. The next bus leaves at five-fifty, correct? And the connection will take me to San Antonio?” Several seconds passed. “Thank you. I’ll purchase a ticket inside the terminal. I appreciate your help.”
Raven glanced at Chelsey.
“Well?”
“They canceled the eleven o’clock route. Didn’t sell enough tickets, apparently.”
“That means Benson is stuck in Wolf Lake until morning.”
Chelsey swung her eyes to each member at the table.
“We caught a break. I’ll call the deputies and tell them what we found. Then we’ll set up surveillance.”
“What better place to spend Halloween night than a creepy farmhouse in the country?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
October 31st
3:10 p.m.
A sports car thumping heavy metal motored down England Street. Someone pointed at Leland, laughed, and tossed a beer can through the window. As the car squealed around the corner, Leland kicked the can aside and shoved his hands into his pockets.
He never should have stayed after school, talking to people he barely knew about Derek. Nobody consoled him. They only needed to understand how someone their age, someone they shared the hallways with, could suffer a brutal death in the shadows of their own backyards. Leland had no answers, and talking had caused him to miss the bus. Now he was stuck walking home in a windbreaker that didn’t earn its moniker. The chill stiffened his bones. Just a little longer. Another two miles and he’d arrive home.
He hadn’t wrapped his head around Derek’s death and never would. As his sneakers scuffed along the sidewalk, a figure watched from across the street and caught his eye. False alarm. It was a grim reaper posed with a scythe, beside a pumpkin glowing on the front steps. For unknown reasons, the grim reaper unsettled him. Its gaze seemed to follow Leland through the neighborhood, eyes shifting as he moved. Down the block, three women led a group of young children from door-to-door, the kids trick-or-treating early this year to beat the cold.
Or perhaps the parents didn’t want their children outside after dark with a vicious murderer running loose.
He quickened his step and hurried away from the macabre Halloween decoration. The road concluded at a dead end, but a trail worn by generations of children arrowed through the trees and led through a park. The shortcut saved him ten minutes of walking time, and he needed every second if he hoped to survive the cold. Leland’s ears grew numb. His nose ran like a waterfall, and he was out of tissues. Before he crossed the soccer field, he plucked two leaves from a tree and combined them into a makeshift Kleenex. Then he tossed the leaves away and jogged with his shoulders hunched over.
The trees rustled behind him. He swung his head back and saw nothing but shadows pooling on the grass. A crazy image flashed in his head—the grim reaper coming alive, uprooting itself, and stalking Leland with its deadly scythe. He laughed the idea off, his own voice unsettling him. Yet he kept glancing over his shoulder as he traversed the pitch.
