by L. T. Vargus
“Well, yeah,” Darger sad, glancing back at the yellow crime scene tape surrounding the perimeter of Sully’s house. “But generally a parent murdering their child feels wrong.”
Owen let out a sigh of irritation.
“Look, you know me. I’m no babe in the woods. I know what people are like. I know how they lie and cheat and deceive one another. But Sully wasn’t like that.”
“If it wasn’t Sully, then who?” Darger angled her head at Micaela’s mother and stepfather. “Them?”
They were on the porch now with the Beethoven. One of the other cops stood by, taking notes. The two of them had calmed down enough to answer a few preliminary questions, she guessed. Lesley sat in one of the chairs, sobbing into a tissue. Darger wished she could hear what they were saying. The deputy chief’s gaze met Darger’s, and she looked away.
Owen crossed his arms.
“I don’t know. Just now I’m torn between feeling bad they just lost their daughter and thinking they’re a couple of first-class histrionic personalities. But just because they’re attention whores doesn’t make them murderers.”
A few moments later, Beethoven and one of his detectives stomped down the steps and over to where Darger and Owen stood. She thought maybe he was going to tell them to get lost now that the case was closed. Instead, he zeroed in on Owen.
“Mr. Baxter.”
“Yes?”
“I understand you were assisting the sus— uh… Mr. Tolliver in the search for his daughter.”
“That’s right.”
“And when was the last time you saw or spoke with him?”
Owen rubbed the back of his neck.
“Last night.”
“Well then, I think that you, me, and Detective Vinke here should go down to the station.” His gaze slid over to Darger. “We’d like to ask you a few questions, and it’s getting a little crowded here…”
Owen turned to her, holding up the keys.
“Can you get a ride back with Loshak and Spinks?”
“Yeah, but… are you sure you don’t want me to come along? I can wait outside until you’re done.”
He took a step closer, lowering his voice so Beethoven wouldn’t hear.
“I didn’t bring you all the way down here to have you sit around in a car, twiddling your thumbs. There’s work to be done.” He gave her a meaningful look. “If you don’t mind, stop by the marina and tell Raul I owe him for the extra time.”
Darger nodded.
“You’ll let me know when they cut you loose?”
“Sure thing.”
She watched him climb into the rusty old VW and head in the direction of the police station, an unmarked police car driven by the detective following close behind. Turning away from the scene, she found her partner lounging against their rental on the street.
“Owen’s heading down to the station for an interview,” she explained. “Where’s Spinks?”
“Brown-nosing the medical examiner.”
“You think he’ll actually get anything?” Darger asked.
“If it were anyone else, I’d say no. But Spinks? He has a way of getting information out of people without them even realizing it.”
“Nice.” She tucked her hands in her pockets. “So Owen remains convinced that this is a set-up.”
“Not a complete surprise,” Loshak said. “If I were him, that’s probably what I would think, too. No one wants to believe that someone they know and trust is capable of murder.”
Darger nodded.
“And yet, stranger things have happened.”
Loshak tilted his head back and stared up at the sky.
“I’m not saying I think it’s one way or another, but there is something a little hinky about all of this,” Loshak said. “Do you feel it?”
“Yeah,” Darger admitted. “I feel it. I mean, why bury a body in a shallow grave on your own property? There’s plenty of wilderness on the island, or hell, the whole damn ocean? There are a thousand better places to dispose of a body here.”
“On the other hand, he might have panicked,” Loshak said. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Especially if he killed his daughter in a fit of rage.” Darger frowned saying the words. “He probably wouldn’t be thinking clearly afterward.”
“Right. But if Sully did kill her, why enlist Owen’s help? And ours?”
Darger considered this for a moment.
“For show,” she said, crossing her arms. “To make it seem like he’s just as worried about his missing daughter as everyone else.”
“And once he found out we were coming to investigate, maybe that’s what pushed him over the edge. The combined guilt over murdering his daughter and fear of us finding him out drove him to suicide?” Loshak said, keeping the narrative going.
Darger angled her head from one side to the other, weighing the two narratives.
“All possible,” she said. “But both explanations of what might have happened seem unnecessarily complicated. Can’t we just get a simple answer for once?”
“If only,” Loshak said with a snort. “Either way, we have another whole day here. No reason we can’t keep poking around. Make sure justice is properly served.”
Darger shielded her eyes from the lowering sun and took stock of the scene.
“Beethoven went back to the station with Owen,” she said.
A sly smile spread over Loshak’s face.
“Perfect opportunity to interview some neighbors.”
CHAPTER 10
“Let’s talk to the lady neighbor first,” Loshak said with an almost imperceptible flick of his head. “She looks like the type that enjoys spilling a little tea now and again.”
Darger’s eyes slid over to the woman in the wide-brimmed straw hat, white linen shorts, and a bright paisley blouse that sat low on her shoulders. She’d pulled a lawn chair over to the side of her yard. Beside her, she’d set up a small table shaded by an umbrella. There was a pitcher of lemonade and some paper cups, which she’d been offering to the first responders throughout the afternoon.
“She’s really making a day of it, huh?” Darger said.
Loshak nodded and adjusted his sunglasses. When they reached the umbrella, Loshak pulled his badge from his pocket and introduced himself and Darger.
“I’m Linda,” the woman said. “Linda Bakker.”
“Could we ask you a few questions, Ms. Bakker?”
“Only if you’ll try some of my famous lemonade,” she said, lifting one of the cups.
“If needs must.” Loshak grabbed and cup and lifted it to his lips. He took a sip. “Delicious.”
“The lemons come from my tree out back. Make it fresh every morning. I simply don’t believe in powders or concentrates.”
“Some things need to be done the old-fashioned way, even if it takes a little more effort,” Loshak said.
Linda beamed with pride.
“Did you know Sully well?” Loshak asked.
The corners of Linda’s mouth turned down.
“He’s been my neighbor for several years now, and he’s always been very considerate. When he got out his weed whipper, he’d always offer to do my yard, too. I’d bake him a pie as payment.”
“And what about his daughter, Micaela?”
The frown lines on Linda’s face deepened.
“I was always taught to mind my own business when it comes to the affairs of others. ‘With their mouths the godless destroy their neighbors, but through knowledge the righteous escape.’”
Darger raised an eyebrow.
“Does that mean you saw something… bad?”
“Heard something, is more like it. The girl had a pair of pipes on her, and when she got mad, well, I suppose they could probably hear her clear down to the water if the winds were right.”
“So you heard an argument?”
Linda nodded and folded her hands in her lap.
“She was hollering about him being a Nazi dictator. He was hollering back
that if she left she would lose all privileges, and that her mother was going to hear all about it, too. At the time I thought it was just a standard spat between a father and his teenage daughter. I wouldn’t have thought Sully was capable of something like this. Never heard him so much as raise his voice before that night, now that I think on it.” Linda went quiet for several seconds and then cocked her head to one side. “But maybe that was the problem. Parents these days ought not to be so soft. Soft parents, unruly children. Why, in my day, they even used a bit of corporal punishment in the schools. There wasn’t a child anywhere that didn’t know exactly what would happen if you stepped out of line.”
She shook her head.
“Murder, though… now there’s just no need to take things that far. It is a sin, after all.”
Darger blinked, confused at the sudden turn. Linda seemed so sweet and now here she was waxing poetic about beating children.
“Uh… right. What about after that night?” she asked, refocusing Linda’s attention on the facts. “Did you see Sully or talk to him after that?”
“I saw him the next day. I was out here watering my guava tree, and he was worried that Micaela might come back to the house while he was in town asking around. He asked me to phone if I saw her.” Linda clicked her tongue. “To think it was all a ruse.”
“So you think he did it?”
“Well, I just can’t fathom any other explanation. And after what I saw last night…”
Darger straightened her spine.
“What did you see last night?”
“I saw Sully out there digging.”
“In his yard?” Darger asked. “What time was this?”
Linda squinted.
“Oh, let’s see. It would have been just after three in the morning.”
“So you’re a bit of a night owl, eh?” Loshak said.
“Hardly. It was Duke. He’s usually very well behaved, but last night he just wouldn’t stop barking. He woke me up around two the first time. I’d drift off, and then he’d start up again. At three, I got up to use the powder room. My bathroom looks out on the fence line between Sully’s yard and mine. And I saw him out back… where they found her. Digging.”
Loshak cleared his throat.
“And did you put your glasses on when you got up?”
Linda thought on that for a moment.
“Well… no. I guess I didn’t.”
“But you could still see that it was definitely Sully?” Loshak pushed. “In the middle of the night, in the dark, without your glasses? I don’t mean to be smart, ma’am, but we do have to be thorough about these things.”
Linda laced her fingers together.
“I take your point. And you’re right. I didn’t see his face. But someone was definitely back there. I’m not that blind. And besides, I could hear the sound of the shovel scraping the dirt.” She held up a finger. “And there’s nothing wrong with my hearing.”
They asked a few more questions but learned nothing more from Linda. Loshak thanked her for her time and the lemonade.
“Oh, of course! And would you like a refill before you go?”
“Absolutely,” Loshak said, holding out his cup.
As they walked back down the sidewalk, Darger’s gaze flitted over to the house on the other side of Sully’s. The dirtbag neighbor with the cobra on his car was on his front porch smoking a cigarette.
“Let’s see what this one has to say.”
Mr. Snake Car flicked his cigarette butt over the railing as they approached.
Loshak raised a hand.
“Mind if we ask you a few questions?”
“You don’t look like reporters, and I know you’re not cops. Who are you?”
“I’m Agent Loshak from the FBI, and this is my partner, Agent Darger.”
Darger nodded.
The man whistled.
“FBI? I heard Sully say something about that, but I thought he was full of shit. He a friend of yours or something?”
“Friend of a friend, more like it.”
The man ran a dirt-encrusted fingernail along the thin line of facial hair that outlined his jaw.
“So how about it, Mister…?” Loshak asked.
“Hendrick.” There was a cigarette tucked behind his ear. He took it down and placed it between his lips. “Ask away, though I don’t know what help I’ll be. Sully and me weren’t exactly friends.”
“What about his daughter?” Darger asked. “Did you know her?”
“Seen her around, of course. But she was a little young for me to be hanging around with, you know?”
He pulled a pack of matches from his pocket and lit the cigarette.
“Had Sully mentioned to you that she was missing?”
“Sure. He came around to all the neighbors, asking if we’d seen her.”
“And had you?”
“Not since she stormed out of the house that night. Sounded to me like they had a big argument about something.”
“Did you hear what it was about?”
Hendrick shook his head.
“I don’t make it a point to stick my nose in other people’s business.” He took a long drag. “But knowing Sully, it was about that boyfriend of hers. Christiaan.”
Darger leaned back against the railing of the porch.
“Sully mentioned him to you?”
“Only to say that he hated the guy’s guts and didn’t want him around his daughter. The thing is, when you try to forbid a kid that age from doing something or seeing someone… well, in my book that’s just a guarantee they’re gonna go right out and do that. Just to prove that they can. Forbidden fruit tastes sweeter and all that.” He ashed the cigarette into a beer can on the floor. “But again, not my business.”
“And when was the last time you saw Sully?” Darger asked.
“Alive, you mean? Because technically the last time would be when they wheeled him out on that gurney a little bit ago.”
“Yes,” Darger said. “Alive.”
“Last night. Saw him out in the backyard talking to himself. Pacing around. Looked like he’d really tied one on, you know? Totally hammered. Anyway, I figured he was just worried about his daughter, but then…”
He drifted off for a few seconds, frowning.
“Go on.”
“Well, I guess that must have been right before he did it.” He pantomimed wrapping a noose around his neck. “Took the easy way out, you know? Jesus.”
“What else can you tell us?” Loshak asked.
“Only that I think Sully stole my shovel to… you know… dig the grave.”
“He stole your shovel?” Darger repeated.
“Yeah.” Now Hendrick’s eyes look haunted. “I had to dig up some rubber vine last week — that stuff is invasive as hell. Anyway, I left the shovel leaning up against the side of my house. Noticed it was gone this morning. There are so many thieves on this island I figured someone happened by and stole it but now…”
He rubbed his arms, as if to dispel a case of the chills.
Darger glanced over to where they’d found the shallow grave. Something the other neighbor said had been simmering in the back of her mind. Something that didn’t feel right. And now she knew what it was.
Micaela had been missing for six days. The story as it was now only worked if Sully killed his daughter in a fit of rage and chose to bury her on his property in a panic. But Linda said she’d seen someone digging in the yard only last night. It didn’t make sense for Sully to hold onto the body for so long and then, on the eve of the FBI showing up on his doorstep, to hurriedly bury her in the backyard.
Maybe Owen’s gut had been right all along.
There was a shout and all eyes turned to see the policeman stationed at the back gate storming over to one of the cameramen, who had sidled his way closer to the side of the house to try to get footage of the excavation happening in the backyard.
“Get back behind the tape, or I’ll arrest you for obstructing a crime scene,” h
e ordered.
Hendrick pointed at the retreating cameraman.
“Do you know if they, like, pay for stories?”
Darger swung her head back around to look at him.
“What?”
“The news channels. When people do those interviews on TV, do they get paid for it?”
Darger opened her mouth, poised to ask what kind of scumbag question that was, but Loshak answered first.
“That’s, uh… not really our wheelhouse.” He put out his hand, and the two men shook again. “Anyway, we appreciate you taking the time.”
“No sweat,” Hendrick said.
As they returned to the crowd of gawkers on the street, Darger spotted Spinks hanging out in a shady area near the rental car.
“Find out anything useful?”
Spinks steepled his fingers together.
“The girl’s been dead for several days, and the good doctor was reticent to give an official cause of death until after the autopsy, but according to his preliminary examination, all evidence suggests that Micaela Tolliver was beaten to death. Said the most likely C.O.D. was blunt force trauma to the head. She had a lot of bruising to the face and several deep lacerations on her scalp.”
“Christ almighty,” Loshak said. “Who the hell beats a seventeen-year-old girl to death?”
Darger was frowning. Something wasn’t right.
“Scalp lacerations bleed a lot,” she said.
“Yeah,” Loshak agreed.
“I didn’t see any blood in Sully’s house.”
“Could have cleaned it up.”
“Maybe.” Darger squinted over at Spinks. “And what did the M.E. say about Sully?”
“Preliminary findings are consistent with suicide, and…” Spinks leaned closer. “And he might have let it slip that they found a note.”
“A note?” Darger crossed her arms. “Where? I didn’t see a note.”
“Typed out on his phone.”
“Not in his own handwriting then,” Loshak said, raising his eyebrows.
“Correct. Let’s see… what else did I get?”
Spinks clicked his tongue and then rattled off a whole list of details. Darger got the impression he was showing off now, wanting them to know just how many beans he’d convinced the M.E. to spill.
