The River Girls

by Melinda Woodhall

  “Now I’m the one who’s sorry,” Eden said, the words sounding stiff in her mouth. “I can tell she meant something to you.”

  “Her mother is a client of mine. Admittedly a client that made some bad choices, and ended up in jail, but she loves her daughter. When Jessica went missing, she was desperate to find her.”

  Leo recalled the worry in Beth’s eyes the last time he’d seen her. “She’s going to be devastated.”

  “Do you always get so emotionally invested in your client’s lives?” Eden asked, and Leo thought the question sounded sincere.

  “Sometimes it’s impossible not to, I guess,” he admitted. “I know how lonely it can feel to be accused and locked up. I saw my father go through hell trying to prove his innocence, until it finally broke him. I can’t just stand by and let others go through that without at least trying to help.”

  A rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. Leo looked up to see dark clouds brewing toward the east. Another storm was about to hit the city, and the traffic would be a mess. “Look, I’ve got to go. I want to get to the jail before…well, before anyone else tells Beth what’s happened.”

  “Star’s still missing,” Eden said, her voice sounded small against the background of more thunder. “She may be the next one to turn up in the river. It may already be too late.”

  “You need to tell the police what you’ve told me. They’ll follow up I’m sure.” Even as he said the words, he felt like a fraud and a liar. Since when did he believe the police in Willow Bay would do the right thing and find the right killer? They’d screwed up cases before. Just look at what had happened to his father.

  “Oh, I’ve told them, but I’m not sure that will be enough to save Star, and to find the monster that killed Jessica. The police in this town weren’t able to save Mercy,” Eden said, her chin held high and her mouth set in a flat line. “How can I trust them to save Star?”

  Leo opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it again. Eden was right. It was highly unlikely that the police would figure out who was behind Jessica’s murder in time to save her missing friend. And what exactly would he tell Beth when she asked him who had killed her daughter? Would she ever know what had happened to her only child?

  Leo had grown accustomed to living with the pain of not knowing who had killed the person he had loved above all others. The knowledge that the killer was still out there living his life, free to kill again, haunted him. Would Beth have to learn to live with that same pain?

  “Come with me,” Leo said, surprising himself with the curt command. “There’s someone that may be able to help us find out what happened to Jessica. If we know what happened to her, we may be able to find Star.”

  “You mean, now?” Eden asked, her eyes wide at the thought of going anywhere with Leo Steele.

  “Yes, now,” Leo said, already taking the stairs two at a time. “But I’ll need to stop off at the jail first.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Bruised storm clouds threatened in the distance, but the rain hadn’t yet started to fall when they arrived at the Willow Bay Women’s Detention Center in Leo Steele’s BMW. Eden looked up at the barbed wire that ran along the concrete fence and noted the guard towers positioned above each corner.

  It’s a full-fledged prison, not a detention center, she thought, bemused. Why sugar-coat it? Why not just call it what it is?

  They had driven the five miles to the detention center in silence, and Eden told Leo she and Duke would wait for him on a bench outside the visitor’s reception area while he met with Beth.

  She almost felt sorry for him as he walked inside, his face pale and his eyes downcast.

  Maybe he isn’t completely heartless, after all.

  The thought made Eden feel disloyal to Mercy, and, needing a distraction, she pulled out her phone to check her email. She was still reading though her messages twenty minutes later when Leo stepped out.

  “Let’s go,” he said, not waiting to see if she would follow him as he made his way back to the car. She let Duke slip into the back, and then climbed into the passenger seat, the leather seat hot beneath her legs as she secured her seat belt.

  “So, where exactly are we going?” Eden asked, determined not to inquire how Beth Carmichael had taken the news of Jessica’s death. Leo’s clenched jaw didn’t invite questions, and besides, she wasn’t ready to bear the weight of any more sorrow just yet, even if it wasn’t her own.

  “We’re going to my office,” Leo replied, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his voice distracted. “I’ve arranged to meet someone who has been looking into Jessica’s whereabouts. Hopefully he can tell us where she was before this all happened.”

  After ten minutes of weaving through heavy traffic, Leo nosed the BMW off the interstate and drove toward the modest cluster of modern, glass and metal buildings that formed downtown Willow Bay.

  Eden was surprised when he turned onto a shady street lined with older homes that had been converted into businesses and offices. She’d pegged him for someone who would have offices on the top floor of the tallest, shiniest building in town.

  The BMW pulled into a small, paved lot next to a two-story house that appeared to be newly renovated. The wooden walls were painted a crisp white in contrast to the dark, forest green of the shutters and trim. A porch swing added a homey touch to the wide front porch.

  Eden and Duke followed Leo up the stairs and into a cozy waiting room just as the first fat drops of rain began to fall.

  “Looks like you all just beat the storm,” a cheerful voice called.

  Eden turned to see the owner of the voice. Perhaps in her late fifties or early sixties, the woman’s gray curls and rimless glasses gave her a grandmotherly appearance. She stood and offered a soft, plump hand to Eden, her gray eyes bright and curious.

  “I’m Pat Monahan, Leo’s secretary.”

  “No, she’s actually a paralegal for this law firm,” Leo corrected as he looked around the room. “I guess Frankie Dawson hasn’t arrived yet?”

  “Well, you can call me what you want, Leo, but I think paralegal sounds a bit depressing.”

  Pat rolled her eyes and winked at Eden, before releasing her hand and turning to face Leo.

  “And yes, Frankie has arrived. Unfortunately, he isn’t afraid of an early death from lung cancer. He’s smoking a cigarette on the back porch.”

  Pat turned to Eden and raised her eyebrows. “And you are?”

  “Oh, sorry, I’m Eden Winthrop, I’m here to meet someone with Mr. Steele. I guess Frankie?”

  “Yes, I’ve asked Frankie Dawson to join us,” Leo confirmed. “Let’s go on out back. We don’t have time to wait while he blackens his lungs.”

  Leo strode down the hall, but Pat reached out and put a hand on Eden’s arm. She looked down at Duke, who was sitting politely by the door.

  “Does this big guy want to stay with me and have some water and a snack? I have some doggie biscuits in my bag. My little pug, Tinkerbell, has a hollow leg, so I never leave home without a snack.”

  “That would be very nice. I’m sure Duke would appreciate that,” Eden said, guilt tinting her cheeks pink as she remembered that the dog hadn’t had access to water for several hours. She bent down and hugged Duke to her, glad to feel his warm, solid body against her.

  “You stay here with Pat, now. I’ll be back for you soon.”

  As Eden stepped onto the raised wooden porch, an angry flash of lightening cracked the sky open, and the deluge of rain that had been threatening finally arrived. The porch was covered by a sturdy awning, but the rain blew in sideways, splattering Eden’s leather flats. She hovered by the back door as Leo spoke to a tall, lanky man with limp brown hair and puffy, bloodshot eyes.

  “Frankie, this is Eden, she’s trying to find a runaway, too. Someone who may have known Jess.” Leo glanced at Eden but didn’t give her or Frankie a chance to respond.

  “So, what did you find out, Frankie? Where was Jess staying?” Leo fired the words
at the man as if he were questioning a hostile witness in a courtroom. “Who was she with?”

  “Slow down, man,” Frankie muttered, throwing down the smoking remains of his cigarette and smashing it into the deck with a grubby tennis shoe.

  “My boy took the picture you gave me and showed it around. Some dude told him that Jess had been stayin’ with another girl at a sober house on the east side. Dude said she split a few weeks ago. I was plannin’ to check out his story, but I’ve been busy, ya know.”

  “Yeah? Well it looks like you’ve been busy getting wasted, Frankie.” Leo shook his head, his fists clenching at his sides. “I thought you were staying clean.”

  “I am clean, bro! I’ve been clean for months.” Frankie’s thin face settled into a scowl. “It was a late night. I wasn’t plannin’ to come all the way out here today, ya know.”

  “And I didn’t plan for Jessica’s body to be pulled out of the river, but there it is,” Leo snarled, turning away from Frankie and Eden, staring out into the gray curtain of rain that had descended all around them.

  “Oh shit, man, I’m sorry,” Frankie groaned. “Was that girl on the news Jess? That’s fucked up.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” Leo said. “Where’s this sober house? Who was the friend she was supposed to be with? Give me something to work with.”

  “The place is called Clear Horizons. It’s on Baymont, past the old Blockbuster building. I’ll text you the address. From what the guy said, the old lady that runs the place is a real piece of work.” Frankie stopped talking while he plucked a single cigarette out of his shirt pocket and held a grimy Bic lighter to the tip.

  After taking a deep drag, he put the lighter away and cleared his throat. “So, this broad takes in all these addicts fresh out of rehab. Most of ‘em are real young. Their parents don’t want ‘em back in the house. They pretty much pay her to provide Junior a place to stay until the next relapse.”

  “How noble,” Leo said, eyes narrowed against the smoke that hung in the air.

  “From what this guy said, the old lady drives a Beamer or a Jag or some shit.” Frankie looked impressed. He puffed out another cloud of smoke.

  Grabbing the cigarette from Frankie and throwing it on the ground, Leo used an expensive-looking leather shoe to grind the cigarette into the wet wood. “I didn’t get you out of prison so you could kill yourself with that crap.”

  “Hey, man, not cool. That was my last one,” Frankie whined, the scowl back on his face.

  Leo turned to Eden and narrowed his eyes. “You want to pay a visit to this so-called sober house? Maybe they can tell us if Jessica really was there, and if she was, who she left with.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Eden braced herself for a possible impact as Leo sped down rain-slicked streets and weaved in and out of traffic, not seeming to notice the torrential rain that beat against the windshield. Duke whined from the backseat.

  “You mind slowing down?” Eden asked, her tone cold. “Duke doesn’t like being thrown around like a stuffed animal.”

  “Sorry,” Leo said, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. “Sorry, Duke, didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Do you think we should let the police know what we’ve found out?” Eden asked, her heart slowing along with the car’s speed. “Maybe we should let them handle this?”

  “We’ve gone through this before,” Leo said with exaggerated patience. “The police will act on what they want to, when they want to. I want to know what happened to Jess now.”

  Eden sighed and sat back in the seat, staring out the rain-streaked window. She had to agree with Leo. If they waited for the police to act, and something happened to Star in the meantime, she’d be the only one to blame.

  The BMW made a quick turn onto Baymont Court. The street was lined with a mix of small businesses and modest apartments buildings. Halfway down the block she saw a small sign in front of a two-story apartment building that identified it only as Clear Horizons.

  “I guess they don’t advertise this as being a sober house,” Eden murmured, her eyes searching the windows as Leo pulled alongside the curb and turned off the engine. “Neighbors would probably object.”

  “Actually, recovering addicts and alcoholics are protected by federal law. They can’t be kept out of a neighborhood just because they’re in recovery. Plenty of people are ready to sue if you try.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realize,” Eden said. “I guess I’m a bit ignorant about addiction. I’ve never personally known an addict or an alcoholic. At least not that I’m aware of.” A vivid image of her pill bottle sitting next to a large glass of red wine flashed in her mind; she pushed it away. I’m not addicted. Those pills have been prescribed to treat my anxiety. And I haven’t used any for ages. And red wine is full of antioxidants. Besides, it helps with my insomnia.

  “Well, Florida is full of recovery facilities and sober houses, and I’ve personally had plenty of clients who have been railroaded because they suffer from addiction.” Leo gripped the steering wheel as he spoke.

  “It’s easy to pin something on someone who has lost credibility. It’s an easy out for the police or a prosecutor who wants a quick conviction.”

  Eden looked over at Leo, curious for the first time about what had made the man so angry with the police and the court system.

  Something terrible must have happened to make him this full of rage.

  Leo looked past Eden, seeming to size up the building. “From my quick search online, I believe a woman named Denise Bane runs the place. She founded it in the nineties.”

  “Seems rather run down to me,” Eden said, not liking the way weeds sprouted from the broken sidewalk and years of dirt clung to the faded concrete walls.

  “Looks like the rain’s letting up. Let’s see what we can find.” He reached back and let Duke out on his side, and the dog walked next to him toward the sidewalk without hesitation, unbothered by the light drizzle. Eden opened her umbrella and watched the dog, chagrined that he didn’t seem to notice she was still standing by the car.

  You little traitor.

  By the time Eden had caught up with Leo, he had knocked on a ground floor door. Eden saw a weathered House Manager nameplate just as the door opened to reveal a tall woman with short, white hair. Her wide, plain face was tan and leathery, and to Eden it looked like the face of a lifelong smoker.

  “Yes?” The woman’s cool expression match her tone. She had on a crisp, blue cotton blouse, fitted black pants and canvas ballet flats. The only accessories she wore were small diamond stud earrings and a silver wedding band.

  “Denise Bane?” Leo asked, his voice smooth and pleasant. “I’m Leo Steele, and this is Eden Winthrop. We’re wondering if you may have information regarding a former resident of yours.”

  “Which resident?” Denise asked, her pale blue eyes narrowed, her mouth set in a hard line.

  “Jessica Carmichael,” Leo said, holding out a color photo. In the photo Jessica still had long, dark hair. She was smiling but her big gray eyes looked pensive.

  “I haven’t seen her in weeks,” Denise said, her expression unchanged. “She was never really a resident here in any case. Couldn’t find a sponsor.”

  “What do you mean by sponsor?” Eden asked, her heart dropping with the knowledge that Jessica hadn’t been at the sober house since the night Star said she’d disappeared.

  “She means that Jessica didn’t have someone to pay her way, isn’t that right Ms. Bane?” Leo’s dark eyes filled with anger, and he seemed oblivious to the raindrops that continued to fall and glisten in his thick hair.

  “She didn’t have money to cover her stay, no. And she was a minor and didn’t have an adult to give their consent for her to live here.” A frown furrowed the older woman’s leathery brow.

  “She tried to sneak in at night and stay with one of the girls. I had to chase her out more than a few times.”

  “Do you have any idea where she may have stayed when she wasn’t here
? Where she could have been staying in the last two weeks?” Leo asked. “Do you think the girl she knew here would know?”

  “All our residents are guaranteed complete confidentiality and discretion.” A satisfied gleam entered her eyes. “Unless you’re with the police, and have a warrant, I can’t allow you to speak to any of my residents.”

  A slim, young man appeared behind Denise. “What seems to be the problem?”

  A flash of annoyance crossed Denise’s face. “Nothing I can’t handle, Trevor. I’ve got this under control.”

  “Do you work here, too?” Eden called out, ignoring the woman blocking the door, knowing they had no hope to get any more information from Denise Bane.

  “Yes, I’m the assistant manager, Trevor Bane,” the young man said with a curious smile. “Who are you?”

  “I’m a lawyer, my name is Leo Steele, and this is Eden Winthrop, she runs a foundation in the area,” Leo said. “We’re trying to find out what happened to the daughter of one of my clients.”

  “They’re looking for Jessica. You know, the girl that was always hanging around.” Denise glared back at Trevor. “I already told them she wasn’t a resident and we don’t know where she is.”

  “I think you misunderstand, Ms. Bane,” Leo said. “We know exactly where Jessica is now. We’re trying to find out where she’s been.”

  “Why don’t you ask her, then?” Trevor looked confused.

  “Because she’s dead, that’s why,” Leo said, anger oozing out with each word. “And we are trying to understand the circumstances leading up to her death.”

  Eden watched Denise Bane’s face and thought she saw the woman register genuine shock. Her mouth opened, then shut. After a pause she said, “Let’s all step inside, out of the rain.”

  Leo followed Denise into the office, but Eden hesitated, seeing the wet mud on Duke’s feet. She didn’t want to leave him outside in an unfamiliar neighborhood.

  Trevor stood at the door and motioned her in. “Don’t worry about getting the floors wet, they’re already a mess.”