Her Last Summer: A Veronica Lee Thriller

by Melinda Woodhall

  “Thanks for bringing Mr. Sargent in for me, Officer Eddings. Go ahead and show him to an interview room and I’ll be there shortly.”

  Nick shook his head and banged his fist on the counter.

  “Oh, no, I’m not sitting around here while my competition scoops the story at Mosquito Lake,” he insisted. “Just tell me what you want and let me be on my way.”

  “Calm down, Mr. Sargent, or should I call you Mr. Sokolov?”

  Nick’s face flushed a bright pink, but his angry scowl remained.

  “My professional name and my given name should be of no concern to anyone but me. Now, why did you want to speak to me?”

  “I wanted to know if you have information on the whereabouts of Alexandra Marsh. She’s missing, and I have reason to believe you might know where she is.”

  Arranging his face into an ugly smirk, Nick sighed.

  “I don’t know anyone named Alexandra Marsh, Chief Ainsley. Whoever your source is, they must have mistaken me for someone else. Now, if that’s all, I’ll be on my-”

  “She goes by Lexi,” Nessa said, ignoring his denial. “And she was a regular visitor at Molly Blair’s house.”

  Nessa paused, then stepped closer to Nick.

  “I hear you were, too. I also know you were a guest at the Riverview Hotel the night Portia Hart died.”

  Frankie thought he saw fear flash in Nick’s eyes, before the reporter looked away in mock disdain.

  “Who have you been talking to, Chief Ainsley?” Nick’s voice was ice cold. “Let me guess…Hunter Hadley? You know he’s got a grudge against me, right?”

  Nessa didn’t respond. She glanced over at Frankie and raised her eyebrows. He grimaced and shook his head. He hadn’t found Lexi.

  Turning to Vanzinger and Jankowski, Nessa gestured to the door.

  “Will you guys show Mr. Sargent back to the interview room? I just need to take care of something, then I’ll join you.”

  The detectives hustled Nick into the back as Nessa came over to stand in front of Frankie and Barker.

  “I just got a text from the crime scene lab. They found drugs at Molly’s house, and the tests have confirmed large quantities of Oxytocin, Fentanyl, and heroin. It was a serious operation. I’m worried Lexi’s addiction may be worse than I thought.”

  Her grim words gave Frankie an idea. He jumped up and began to pull Barker toward the door.

  “Come on, partner,” he urged. “I think I know where Lexi is.”

  Chapter Forty

  Lexi ran down the dimly lit stairs, her heels clicking a frantic rhythm that matched the erratic beating of her heart as the man’s footsteps grew louder, descending toward her like an avalanche rolling down from a mountain.

  Jerking awake, Lexi heard the faint rumble of thunder somewhere in the distance. She tried to sit up, but her head connected with metal, and she slumped back onto the thin carpet beneath her, mind spinning as she realized she was still trapped in the car trunk.

  Her throat was dry and painfully sore; she tried to draw in short, shallow breaths, but the little air that remained was thick with the putrid scent of decay. The dead body behind her was starting to rot, and the terrible heat in the car would only accelerate the process.

  Refusing to give in to her panic, Lexi maneuvered her hand into her pocket and pulled out her phone, but the screen remained dark. Despair set in as she remembered the battery was dead. Letting the phone slip from her fingers, she felt her hope draining away.

  No, I can’t give up. Not yet. I’m still alive. I’m still here.

  She forced herself to focus on the distant sound of the thunder. A storm was finally brewing, and the long, hot dry spell may be coming to an end. She imagined the feel of the cool raindrops on her face and on her skin, just like when she’d been a little girl, catching the raindrops on her tongue and splashing along in the muddy puddles.

  At first the sound of a man’s voice close by seemed to be part of another dream. Had she fallen asleep again? No, she definitely heard someone talking. Her blood ran cold at the thought that maybe the man who’d attacked her had returned to finish the job.

  Has he come back for me? Is he out there now, preparing his final act?

  Clenching her fists at her side, Lexi braced herself for whatever might come. Better to end her life fighting than to let herself just fade away into the darkness around her.

  “I bet she came here looking for more pills.”

  The voice sounded familiar, but it wasn’t the hateful voice of the man that had killed Molly. It was Frankie. She was sure of it.

  “Nessa said Molly Blair had a shitload of drugs, so I’m thinking Lexi was hoping she left some in the house.”

  Opening her mouth, Lexi tried to call out, but her throat was too dry; only a raspy gasp escaped. Tears slid down her cheeks as she listened, desperate for Frankie to say something else, but she heard only another roll of thunder somewhere far to the east.

  She attempted to lift her right arm, but it was stiff and cramped. It took all her strength to raise her fist and bang it against the trunk’s metal lid. The muffled sound was pitifully weak, and Lexi knew there was little chance anyone outside the car would notice the soft noise. There had to be another way.

  My legs are strong. If I can get them in the right position, maybe I can….

  But her legs had fallen asleep; they were numb and heavy, and when she moved them they exploded with excruciating pain. Fighting back a wave of dizziness, Lexi used her foot to explore the trunk, careful to avoid the dead body behind her.

  Her toes pushed against a metal bar; it shifted at the pressure, and she recognized the cylindrical shape of a tire iron.

  Gripping the tool with her toes, she inched her leg up, dragging it toward her hand. After several agonizing seconds she gripped the tire iron in her hand and strained, her arm trembling with the effort.

  “I was sure she was gonna be here, man,” Frankie said, passing close by the car. “I mean where else could she go to get a fix?”

  The disappointment in his voice puzzled her.

  Why does he care? And why hasn’t he given up on me? Everyone else has. My father. My mother. Even my so-called friends. Why not him?

  She didn’t understand Frankie’s determination to help her, but she knew this might be the last chance for her to help herself. Tightening her hand around the tire iron, Lexi wrenched her hand up, angling the end of the tool toward the metal lid. A hollow clang sounded in the darkness.

  Gritting her teeth, Lexi once again yanked the tire iron up as hard as she could. She was rewarded with another loud clang. She tried to lift her hand again, put the tire iron slipped from her sweaty grip, falling onto the carpet with a soft thud.

  “You hear that?” Frankie asked, his voice coming closer. “I thought I heard something in the garage.”

  “There’s nobody in there. I already looked.”

  Another, deeper voice crushed Lexi’s hope. Opening her mouth, she tried to scream, straining against the painful knot in her throat.

  “Look, there’s another car in here. The Jag was here yesterday, but this Toyota wasn’t.” Frankie sounded confused. “Who would park a car at a fucking crime scene?”

  Knowing it might be her last chance, Lexi felt around beneath her, searching for the tire iron. Her frantic fingers settled over her phone.

  It may not turn on, but I can still use it to call for help.

  Grasping the phone in her hand she struck it against the lid again and again. The clink, clink, clink reverberated inside the trunk and echoed in Lexi’s ears. Shaking from the exertion, she felt her grip on the phone loosen. As the phone fell away, the lid popped open, letting in a flood of light that burned her eyes.

  Frankie stared in at her with wide eyes, and she glimpsed a big man standing next to him. Then strong hands were lifting her out of the trunk and laying her on the smooth pavement of the garage floor.

  “Lexi? What the hell happened to you?” Frankie smoothed her damp hair
back from her face. “Who did this to you?”

  “There’s another woman in here,” the big man said, his voice grim. “Looks like she’s been dead a few days. I’ll call 911.”

  Lexi tried to speak, but her mouth and throat wouldn’t cooperate. She finally managed to rasp out a soft moan, but Frankie shook his head, his face tight with worry.

  “Don’t try to talk.” He smiled down at her. “The ambulance will be here soon, and everything’ll be okay.”

  She raised her eyes to his as her last bit of energy faded away, and with a final exhale, she gave in to the darkness.

  Chapter Forty-One

  As the call rolled to voicemail again, Hunter slammed his phone on the desk. He’d been trying to reach Veronica for hours and she wasn’t picking up. Fear kindled in his chest, and he stalked to the window to stare out at the darkening sky.

  Has something happened to her? Is she in some kind of trouble again?

  Finn called to him from the doorway.

  “Still no word from Veronica?”

  Looking back at Finn, Hunter shook his head. No use pretending he wasn’t worried. Jordie’s son was as smart and intuitive as his father had been, and the worry was clearly etched on his face.

  “I have an idea.” Finn stepped into the office and closed the door behind him. “Although Veronica would kill me for saying this.”

  Hunter raised his eyebrows, open to any suggestion that might take his mind off Veronica’s disappearing act.

  “I think we should call her mother.” Finn held up his hand at Hunter’s instant frown. “Hear me out. Maybe her mother knows where Veronica is, and if not…well, she can find out.”

  “What do you mean…she can find out?”

  Finn grinned.

  “Hey, mothers know everything, right?”

  The playful words hit Hunter in the gut, ripping open a wound that had festered inside him ever since he’d been old enough to realize that everyone but him seemed to have a mother.

  Hiding the unexpected jolt of pain, Hunter turned away.

  “Look, if you’re just fooling around, then I’d rather be alone.”

  “I’m serious,” Finn insisted. “I mean about asking Veronica’s mother for help. I overheard her complaining that her mother is always tracking her on the Find My Phone app.”

  A spark of interest ignited at the possibility that Veronica’s mother may be able to tell them exactly where Veronica had gone. If nothing else if could relieve his fear that she might have continued chasing the story and gotten in over her head.

  “Okay,” Hunter agreed. “It can’t hurt to ask.”

  “Actually, if Veronica finds out what we’re about to do, she’ll probably go batshit,” Finn conceded. “But we’ll worry about that when and if the time comes. Now, who’s going to make the call?”

  Hunter tried to picture his old history’s teacher’s face. Ling Lee had been a popular teacher at Willow Bay High when he’d been a student. Eventually she’d been promoted to her current role as the school’s principal, but from everything he’d heard, she was still popular with both the student and their parents.

  “A lifetime ago Ms. Lee used to be my high school history teacher,” he told Finn, realizing he had thought about his high school years in a long while. “So, I guess it’d make more sense for me to call the school. I’m pretty sure summer school is in session.”

  Feeling more nervous than he’d expected, he picked up his phone and googled Willow Bay High School. Moments later he was waiting on hold for Ms. Lee to pick up.

  “This is Principal Lee. Who’s calling?”

  The voice on the other end of the line sounded strangely familiar. Almost two decades had passed since he’d heard it, and he suddenly felt like an awkward teenager again.

  “This is Hunter Hadley, Ms. Lee. Veronica’s station manager. I was hoping to talk to you about your daughter.”

  “Oh dear, what’s happened to Ronnie?” Ling’s voice morphed from polite to panicked within seconds. “Is she okay?”

  Startled by Lin’s reaction, Hunter quickly reassured her.

  “As far as I know your daughter is fine,” he said, glancing at Finn, who stood over him with an expectant expression. “It’s just that when she left the station this morning she was rather upset. I’ve been worried about her, and she won’t answer her phone. I was wondering if you might know where she is.”

  “No, I haven’t been at home,” Ling replied. “And Ronnie gets mad if I call too often to check on her, especially on a big news day. So, haven’t tried to reach her.”

  Before Hunter could ask his next question, Ling answered it.

  “I’ll try her now. Hold on, please.”

  Cheerful music flooded through the phone, and Hunter held it away from his ear. It sounded like the marching band version of Willow Bay High’s fight song. A few seconds later the music abruptly stopped, and Ling was back on the line.

  “She’s not picking up.” Ling sounded as disappointed as Hunter felt. “But that isn’t unusual. She probably thinks I’m calling to nag.”

  Seeing Hunter’s defeated expression, Finn whispered loudly, “Ask her to use her Find My Phone app.”

  Hunter cleared his throat and waved Finn away.

  “I’m sorry to cause you unnecessary worry, Ms. Lee, and I’m sure everything is fine, but with everything going on in town, I was hoping you might-”

  “Get to the point, Mr. Hadley,” Ling demanded. “Is there something I can do that might help my daughter?”

  The principal’s reprimand stung.

  “Yes, Ms. Ling. You can track Veronica using the Find My Phone app. Just to let us all know where she is, and that she’s okay.”

  Hunter waited for a response, hoping Ling wouldn’t accuse him of stalking her daughter or invading her family’s privacy. He already felt guilty of both, but instinct was telling him that something was wrong. He couldn’t just let it go, could he?

  He heard Ling’s sharp intake of air.

  “Oh, that’s strange. Ronnie’s heading east on the turnpike. Why would she be crossing the state?”

  Thinking through the information that had come to light in the last few days, Hunter tried to imagine where Veronica was going.

  Didn’t Portia Hart and her brother live on Florida’s east coast?

  A more disturbing possibility occurred to him. He tapped the Mute button and looked at Finn.

  “Where does Julian Hart live?”

  “A little place called Hart Cove,” Finn said, without hesitation. “It’s a beach town just north of Palm Beach. I think the town was named for its founder, Portia’s great-grandfather.”

  Unmuting the phone, Hunter cleared his throat.

  “Ms. Lee, I think Veronica must be following up on the Portia Hart story,” Hunter said. “She may be trying to get an interview with Portia’s brother, who lives on the coast.”

  “All by herself?” Ling sounded scandalized. “Shouldn’t she have taken along someone on the camera crew to film it? Ronnie told me yesterday that you’d hired a new guy. Someone much better than the last guy.”

  Glancing at Finn, Hunter agreed.

  “Yes, we do have a new guy on the crew, and yes, Veronica should have taken at least one crew member with her. That’s our policy, but I think she decided not to follow the rules this time.”

  He didn’t want to admit to Ms. Lee, or to himself, that Veronica most likely wasn’t trying to get an interview, and that she no longer considered herself to be working for Channel Ten. She was going to find Julian for more personal reasons.

  Hunter’s hands clenched into fists at the thought.

  “But if she’s on assignment, why isn’t she answering her phone?” Ling asked. “You said she was upset. How upset was she?”

  Suspecting Ling would see through an attempt to sugar-coat the situation, Hunter decided to tell the truth.

  “She was upset enough to walk out,” Hunter admitted. “And she implied she wouldn’t be back.”
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  “But she loves her job,” Ling protested, “She would never quit without a good reason.”

  Hunter bit back the initial response that came to mind.

  Maybe she wants to be with Julian. Maybe that’s reason enough.

  Scolding himself for being a fool, Hunter decided he’d already made a big enough fool out of himself for one day. It was time to man up and move on. Besides, he needed to get back to work. There was too much going on in Willow Bay for him to sit around feeling sorry for himself.

  “I’m sure Veronica is fine. She probably wants some time alone.”

  The words tasted bitter in his mouth, but he wasn’t sure what else there was to say. Promising Ling Lee that he would stay in touch, he disconnected the call and turned to see Finn frowning at him.

  “Is that what you really think?” Finn asked. “Cause a few minutes ago you were as worried as I am. What’s changed?”

  Dropping his eyes, Hunter wondered how he had let himself become emotionally involved. He was no longer sure he could trust his own judgement, but he thought maybe there was someone he could trust. Someone who would help him figure out what to do next.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The lobby of the Willow Bay Police Department was quiet when Hunter and Finn walked in, with Gracie bringing up the rear. The desk sergeant held up a hand.

  “No filming inside the station,” the officer called out. “And the city’s media relations officer is the only one that can give an official statement. All I can tell you is no comment.”

  “Good to know,” Hunter replied dryly, “but I need to see Riley Odell. Her assistant said I’d find her here.”

  “She’s in with the chief,” the officer acknowledged, eyeing Gracie. “That a service dog? We only let service dogs in here.”

  Looking down at Gracie, Hunter decided the Lab could be considered an emotional support animal.

  And I can be her emotional support human.

  Glancing up at the officer, Hunter nodded.

  “Yeah, she’s an ESA. now can you let Ms. Odell know I’m here?”

  Moments later a man opened the door to the back and stuck his head out. Hunter recognized Tucker Vanzinger’s red crewcut.