Julian hid behind dark sunglasses as they walked toward the bulky concrete medical examiner's office, and he kept his head down as if trying to make himself less visible, which wasn’t an easy task.
Standing as tall as Vanzinger, at least six foot two or more, Julian was lean compared to Vanzinger's muscular frame, with long limbs clad in pressed khakis and a long-sleeved linen shirt.
The younger man didn't seem to be sweating despite the scorching heat of the mid-July sun, and Vanzinger felt momentarily embarrassed as he swiped a big hand across his own damp forehead.
"Mighty hot one today, huh?"
The words croaked out of Vanzinger's dry mouth, and Julian raised his head with a start, as if he'd forgotten Vanzinger was next to him.
"Yes, it's hot," Julian agreed without much enthusiasm.
After another minute of silence, he added in a low voice, "I imagine if hell were real, it would feel just like this."
Before Vanzinger could reply, they reached the glass door of the building, and Vanzinger pulled it open for Julian to walk through. Spotting Maddie Simpson behind the counter, Vanzinger raised a big hand in greeting.
“Hey, Maddie, how’re you doing?”
He detected an underlying smell of decay in the still, cool air as he turned to gestured at Julian.
“This is Mr. Hart. We’re here to see Iris and Nessa.”
Smoothing back a short strand of jet black hair, Maddie flashed Vanzinger a rare smile. He normally got only a muttered complaint from the woman who had worked for the city ever since she’d graduated from Willow Bay community college as a sullen twenty-two year old. Her attitude hadn’t improved in the thirty years since.
“Iris is expecting you, Mr. Hart,” Maddie responded, resting curious eyes on Julian. “I’ll let her know you’re here.”
“Thank you,” Julian murmured, pushing his sunglasses up on his head, revealing pale blue eyes framed by spiky black lashes.
Once Maddie had disappeared into the back, Vanzinger turned to face Julian, who looked slightly shell-shocked.
“Iris Nguyen is the medical examiner, and Nessa Ainsley is the chief of police,” Vanzinger explained. “They’ll review what they found during the autopsy and ask you to view your sister’s body in order to make a positive identification.”
“Chief of police?”
A frown creased the smooth skin of Julian’s forehead.
“Why are the police involved? What happened to Portia?”
Looking toward the door in hope of rescue, Vanzinger sighed.
“It’s best to wait until we’re in the back to discuss the details of your sister’s death. That way we’ll be assured of privacy.”
Julian stared at the door leading to the back with wide, almost glassy eyes; finally it opened to reveal a muscular man in blue scrubs.
“Mr. Hart?” the man called out, looking toward Julian and Vanzinger. “I’m Wesley Knox, the forensic technician handling your sister’s case. The chief will see you now.”
As Vanzinger followed Julian into the back, he wondered who Wesley had been referring to. Both Iris and Nessa were now the official chiefs of their respective departments. Both women had overcome the city’s good-old boy culture to earn their positions; it was the kind of progress Vanzinger had doubted would ever happen.
Things in Willow Bay sure have changed since the first time I joined the department.
Then all thoughts fled as Wesley led them into the narrow viewing room. Vanzinger stared at the long window that separated the room from the autopsy suite, relieved to see the blinds were firmly closed, blocking the view. He put a comforting hand on Julian’s shoulder just as Iris entered the room, and Nessa followed close behind her.
“Good to meet you, Mr. Hart. This is Nessa Ainsley, the chief of police, and I’m Willow Bay’s medical examiner, Iris Nguyen.”
Iris wore a clean, white lab coat over black pants. Her elfin face and kind brown eyes were framed by dark, glossy hair styled in a neat bob. She extended a hand toward Julian, but he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were on the window.
“Is she in there?” he asked. “Is Portia in there?”
Iris nodded, and Vanzinger could feel Julian’s shoulders begin to shake under his hand.
“When you’re ready, we’ll open the blinds. Your sister will be fully covered in a white sheet. Once you feel prepared, Wesley will move the sheet to show you only her face and shoulders. After you’ve made the identification, we’ll go to my office so I can ask you a few questions and answer any questions you may have.”
“Okay, I’m ready,” Julian said, shrugging off Vanzinger’s hand and straightening his shoulders. “I want to see my sister now.”
✽ ✽ ✽
Twenty minutes later they were all sitting around a small table in Iris’ office. A cup of herbal tea was sitting untouched on the table in front of Julian. His stoic expression and dry, stunned eyes were beginning to worry Vanzinger.
Is the guy in shock? Does he realize what has happened?
Julian had worn the same blank expression since he’d seen Portia’s ruined face on the gurney. It was if he refused to acknowledge the horror of what he was seeing.
“I know your parents died in a plane crash back in 2010,” Iris said, her voice soft. “Do you have any other family?”
Shaking his head, Julian kept his eyes on the table.
“No, it was just me and Portia after the crash,” he said, pushing a lock of dark hair off his forehead. “We liked it that way. At least we used to, before Portia’s book came out.”
Nessa leaned forward in her seat.
“So, you and your sister lived together?” she asked.
“We used to. My parents built a house in Hart Cove that we jointly inherited,” Julian agreed. “It’s on the east coast, north of Palm Beach, but I’m not sure what that has to do with my sister’s death.”
“We’re trying to determine why your sister died, Mr. Hart.”
Vanzinger was glad to hear the emotion in Julian’s voice, even if it was frustration.
“We don’t understand what happened, and we need to find out everything we can about Portia so we can figure it out.”
Julian met Vanzinger’s eyes and held his gaze.
“Do you think my sister…did this to herself? Did she want to die?”
The question surprised him, but Vanzinger kept his face neutral.
“We don’t know, Mr. Hart, what do you think? Would your sister what to harm herself? Had she tried to hurt herself before?”
“No, I don’t think she would,” Julian replied, looking away. “But she’s been…away a lot lately, so I…I don’t know for sure what she might have done.”
“Was your sister taking any medication?” Nessa asked. “Do you know if she was under a doctor’s care?”
The glassy look had come back into Julian’s eyes, and he slumped back against his chair without responding.
“We found an empty bottle of pills in her room. Do you know what they were for?” Nessa continued. “Did your sister have an addiction to alcohol or drugs?”
Folding his arms over his chest, Julian shook his head, and Vanzinger saw a flush of emotion fill his cheeks. Nessa’s question had hit home.
“Do you know where your sister got the pills from?” Vanzinger asked, watching for Julian’s reaction.
“No, I don’t have a fucking clue,” Julian suddenly yelled. “My sister did whatever she wanted, no matter what I said.”
He jumped to his feet and moved toward the door.
“She didn’t tell me what she was doing half the time, and she certainly didn’t ask for my permission.”
He reached for the doorknob as Nessa stood and followed him across the room. She put a hand on the door to stop him from leaving.
“Do you know who your sister was dating, Mr. Hart?” Nessa asked. “We’ve been told she may have recently met someone in the Bahamas. Do you know anything about that?”
“I already told you. I
don’t know anything about her love life, or who she might have been sleeping with,” Julian said between gritted teeth. “Now move your hand so I can go.”
Vanzinger stood to face Julian’s angry glare.
“Mr. Hart, we’ll need to work together if we want to find out what happened to your sister. I know you’re hurting, but we just want-”
“Fame can do things to you, Detective,” Julian interrupted. “It can make you think the wrong things are important. I tried to warn her, but…well, Portia made her own choices. There’s nothing I can do about that now. She’s gone, and now I just want to be left in peace."
Chapter Fifteen
The silver Mustang turned onto Kingston Road, then slowly rolled by Molly Blair’s tidy house. Lexi had the air conditioner blowing at full blast, but her palm was sweaty as she held the phone to her ear. Molly still wasn’t picking up. When the call rolled to voicemail yet again, Lexi steered the car around the corner and into the back alley. Molly didn’t like attracting attention from the neighbors, so Lexi had made a habit of coming through the back gate.
Opening the car door, she set one foot on the hot pavement and looked up and down the street, checking for passing cars or nosy neighbors. Seeing neither, she hurried along the fence until she reached the gate. The latch opened easily, and she slipped inside.
Lexi crossed the brown, dried out lawn, climbed the short flight of stairs to the back deck, then navigated around the hot tub to the sliding glass doors.
“Molly?” Lexi knocked on the glass and tried to peer through, but the blinds were drawn. “Molly, are you in there?”
Lexi listened, but could hear nothing from inside. Sweat began to trickle down the small of her back as she wondered where Molly could have gone. She needed to talk to her boss and tell her what had happened the night before. And she needed more pills.
Banging her fist on the glass in frustration, she called out again.
“Molly, please! I need to talk to you!”
She had just turned to walk away, when the lock on the big glass door clicked up, and the door slid open several inches. Angry eyes glared out at Lexi, barely visible through a narrow opening in the blinds.
“What the fuck do you want?” Molly snapped.
She opened the blinds a little wider and poked her head out, looking past Lexi to see if anyone was with her. When she saw that the patio and backyard were empty, she turned her eyes back to Lexi.
“I need to talk to you,” Lexi pleaded. “I need to tell you about the man at the hotel. It’s been on the news and-”
“Shut your mouth,” Molly ordered, throwing a furtive look over her shoulder. “I’m busy right now…we’ll have to talk later.”
Scared that Molly would close the door in her face, Lexi reached out a hand and grabbed the frame.
“This can’t wait,” Lexi insisted. “A woman’s been-”
“I said I’m busy,” Molly repeated, lowering her voice to a furious whisper. “And I’m not alone. Now get out of here. I’ll call you when I’m free to talk.”
Panic set in as Lexi realized there would be no pills until later. She made one last attempt.
“I don’t feel good, and I…I don’t think I should work tonight,” she moaned, blinking back tears. “Unless I can get some more pills…”
Uttering a string of muffled curses, Molly stuck her head out again to study Lexi’s sweaty face. She frowned as she took in the wide, blood-shot eyes and unwashed, matted hair.
“You look like shit,” Molly said in disgust. “Wait here.”
She disappeared behind the blinds for several minutes, then reappeared holding a handful of pills in a small plastic bag.
“Go home and take a shower.” Molly pushed the bag through the gap in the door. “Get cleaned up and ready for tonight.”
Grabbing the bag with eager hands, Lexi turned and hurried back down the path and out the gate. She opened the door to the Mustang, oblivious to the oven-like conditions, and slid into the driver’s seat. Only after swallowing two of the pills dry did she start the engine, open the car windows, and head home.
✽ ✽ ✽
Lexi didn’t make it back to her apartment. Once the pills had kicked in she felt too jittery to go home. She wanted to find out what was going on at the hotel. She needed to see for herself if the man was still there, although she knew she was unlikely to see him wandering around outside.
If he is a killer, he’s probably halfway across the country by now.
Driving past the hotel’s front entrance and the parking garage, Lexi parked the Mustang on the usual side street and then sat motionless in the car, clutching the steering wheel. Finally, she reached down and opened the glovebox. A deflated pack of cigarettes lay on top of a messy pile of napkins, receipts, maps, and a never-used 2010 Ford Mustang owner’s manual.
She knew without looking that there were only four cigarettes left in the pack. Taking one out, she stuck the filtered tip in her mouth and closed her eyes, enjoying the familiar smell of the tobacco.
I should put this back in the pack. Or better yet, I should just throw the whole pack in the garbage. Get rid of them once and for all.
But instead she reached into her purse and extracted a thin Bic lighter. Climbing out of the car, she lit the cigarette and began walking toward the hotel. She’d just gotten to the front of the hotel’s self-parking garage, when she heard a voice beside her.
“That shit’ll kill you. You know that, right?”
A tall, lanky man in baggy jeans and a green football jersey stood on the sidewalk, staring at the cigarette in her hand.
“Yeah, I know. I’ve been trying to stop, but…it’s hard.”
Reaching into his pocket, the man pulled something out and extended his hand toward her. She saw a flash of silver and recoiled, before seeing that it was just a stick of gum wrapped in foil.
“Somebody’s jumpy,” he said, still holding out the gum. “I used this to quit a two-pack a day habit. No joke. If I can do it, you can.”
Lexi transferred her cigarette to her left hand and took the stick of gum with her right. She decided she liked the smooth feel of the foil on her fingers.
“Thanks,” she said, but the man’s phone had started to chirp, and he turned away and held it to his ear.
Looking toward the hotel’s entrance, Lexi watched the television crews, police, and hotel guests milling in front of the lobby, while a steady stream of cars and taxis drove up the drive to drop off and pick up passengers.
As if in a bad dream, she saw a man emerge from the crowd and look her way. Even at a distance, she thought she recognized the man she’d seen in the stairwell the night before. The man seemed to feel her watching him, and he lifted his eyes to meet hers just as a yellow taxi pulled up in the drop off lane, blocking her view.
Breathless, Lexi slipped behind a row of trees along the drive. She dropped her cigarette on the ground at her feet, using her heel to grind it into the parched earth. Staying hidden behind the trees, she slipped up closer to the entrance and peeked out.
A stout woman with white hair and black glasses was climbing out of the taxi. Lexi could see that the woman was talking on a phone as she turned to pay the driver. When the taxi pulled away, the man had disappeared.
Scanning the crowd with nervous eyes, Lexi couldn’t see him anywhere. Had he gotten into the taxi? Had he gone inside the hotel?
Perhaps it hadn’t been the man in the stairwell after all. She’d seen only his face, and the lighting had been bad. It was best to just follow Molly’s advice and go home. She could take a shower and pull herself together.
She spun around and hurried back toward her car, not seeing the man on the sidewalk until he was only inches away. She screamed as he grabbed her arms and held her in place.
“What the fuck?”
It was the skinny man in the green jersey. He released her arms and stepped back.
“I already got hit by a car this year,” he said, sounding more amused than an
gry. “I don’t need another broken leg.”
Heart pounding, Lexi stared at the man with frightened eyes.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you.”
Lexi ignored his words and tried to move past him.
“Whoa, there. Are you sure you’re gonna be all right? You look a little…dazed.”
“I’m fine,” she murmured, looking over her shoulder. “I just need to get out of here.”
The man followed her gaze back toward the hotel.
“You stayin’ at the Riverview?” he asked
Shaking her head, Lexi once again pushed past him. She stepped off the sidewalk and felt her ankle twist underneath her. She tottered and almost fell, but the man reached out and steadied her.
“Maybe I should help you get home.” A frown of concern creased his forehead. “My name’s Frankie. I’m not a psycho or anything, I promise.”
Taking a tentative step, Lexi felt a sharp pain in her ankle.
“My car’s just around the corner,” she gasped, holding on to Frankie’s scrawny arm. “If you can help me get there…”
Frankie walked slowly, letting Lexi hold on to him as she hobbled along. She felt his eyes taking in her disheveled appearance and felt a wave of shame wash over her. When they got to the Mustang, Frankie opened the door and Lexi fell into the driver’s seat.
“Come on, you can’t drive like that,” Frankie said, shaking his head. “You’ll get into an accident.”
“I only live a few blocks away. I’ll be fine,” Lexi insisted, worried that he might see the bag of pills she’d left on the passenger seat.
“A few blocks away?” Frankie looked doubtful. “Which street?”
Her mind refused to come up with a plausible lie. Then the name of the street she’d just come from spilled from her lips.
“Kingston Road,” she blurted out. “Now please, I just want to go home and take care of my ankle.”
“Listen to me, uh…what’s your name?”
“Molly,” she said, pulling the door closed and starting the engine.
“Listen, Molly. Let me call you a cab or an Uber or something,” Frankie called through the glass. “You shouldn’t be driving
Her Last Summer: A Veronica Lee Thriller Page 8
