Girl Eight: A Mercy Harbor Thriller

by Melinda Woodhall

  “Thanks for the in-depth weather report. Maybe you’ve found your new career.”

  Barker rolled his eyes and sat down at the kitchen table. Piles of folders were arranged in stacks next to the remains of someone’s half-eaten sandwich. He pushed the sandwich to the side and opened a folder.

  “So, you find anything?”

  “Well, I haven’t had much time to look, but, yeah, I think I might have.”

  Nessa washed her hands and dried them on the dishtowel before sitting next to Barker at the table.

  “I skimmed through the witness statements in both files and so far only one name stands out.”

  She opened a file to a page that had been bookmarked with a yellow sticky note and pointed to a name at the top.

  “Penelope Yates was the social worker assigned to Natalie Lorenzo’s case. Apparently Natalie was in the process of trying to regain custody of her son and Penelope was helping her.”

  Barker nodded and scanned the report. He saw Marc Ingram’s name at the bottom of the statement.

  “Yeah, she was the one who found Natalie’s body,” Barker murmured, his stomach churning at the memory of the gruesome scene. “Ingram took her initial statement. She was pretty upset from what I remember. Couldn’t tell us much.”

  “Yeah, I think you’ll see that, according to Ingram, the witness was hysterical when he arrived and had to be transported to the hospital before she could give the statement.”

  “I don’t blame her,” Barker said. “I bet she still has nightmares about it. I know I do.”

  “Well, Penelope Yates was also questioned during the Helena Steele investigation. A detective named Tucker Vanzinger took her statement.”

  Barker’s pulse quickened as he looked at the document Nessa had placed next to him.

  “Vanzinger was Reinhardt’s partner for a while,” he said, trying to picture the young detective he hadn’t seen in over a decade. “They worked the Helena Steele case together at first, but he left the force before it went to trial. He hadn’t been a detective long when he was called out to the scene. I always suspected the case was too much for him to handle.”

  Barker flipped through the pages in the file until he came to a selection of crime scene photos. He tried not to react to the carnage depicted in the pictures. Blood spatter covered the wall behind the bed where Helena Steele lay, her head thrown back to expose a deep, bloody slash in her throat. The knife that had been used to kill her lay on the carpet next to the bed.

  “Vanzinger stuck around long enough to talk to Penelope Yates.”

  Nessa handed Barker a bundle of papers held together with a thick rubber band.

  “These are all the notes and related paperwork I could find related to the interviews Reinhardt and Vanzinger conducted as part of the Helena Steele investigation.”

  Barker saw Penelope Yates’ name on the top sheet and read the synopsis statement before dropping his eyes to the signature of the investigating officer.

  “Looks like Vanzinger asked Penelope Yates what she knew about Helena Steele and came up empty. He even states that Ms. Yates had been calm and cooperative during the interview but had no relevant information to add. He concluded that further follow-up wasn’t recommended.”

  “Yeah, I can read, Barker. It’s just that I find that statement a little strange when you compare it to the statement Ingram took from her after the Natalie Lorenzo homicide.”

  Barker stared at her with a blank expression and shrugged.

  “Come on, Barker, don’t you think it’s unlikely Penelope Yates would act calm and cooperative while being questioned about a co-worker that’s been violently killed only weeks after she found Natalie Lorenzo’s dead body? Don’t you think she might have mentioned that she’d found another woman’s body only weeks before?”

  Barker let Nessa’s words sink in. She had made a good point, but he wished he had thought of it. He was the one who was supposed to be looking for some type of connection between the two cases and here was Nessa having to connect the dots for him. He must be losing his touch.

  “Yeah, I see what you mean,” Barker admitted, turning back to the Natalie Lorenzo statement. “If she was so upset after finding Natalie’s body that she had to be hospitalized, I doubt she would forget to mention it a few weeks later. So why didn’t she say anything?”

  “And why didn’t Vanzinger include this information in his report?” Nessa asked. “Is it possible he actually didn’t know she had been a witness to the only other homicide in Willow Bay that year?”

  Barker found himself staring at her again, not sure what he thought. He tried to remember Vanzinger. Had he been too inexperienced and green to ask the right questions? Or had he been ignorant enough to discount the connection?

  “He was partnered up with Reinhardt,” Nessa said, not trying to hide her disdain for the late detective that had tried to kill her only months before. “In my mind that automatically makes Vanzinger’s actions suspect.”

  Barker knew that Nessa had every right to be biased about Kirk Reinhardt. The detective had been dirty, and he’d succeeded in fooling a lot of people for a long time. Had he already been dirty way back then?

  “All I know for sure is that Tucker Vanzinger quit the force before the case went to trial. I haven’t seen or heard from him since. But I think it’s about time I look him up.”

  Nessa nodded and patted Barker on the back.

  “Just be careful, Barker. You never know what you’ll find if you go around stirring up old cases and pissing off ex-detectives.”

  Barker smiled at her words, but he was already trying to figure out how he could find Vanzinger. He had a vague recollection of Vanzinger and Jankowski riding patrol together before they’d been promoted to the detective squad.

  Maybe Jankowski has kept in touch with his old buddy.

  He glanced over at Nessa and decided not to mention the idea to her just yet. Jankowksi was her partner now, and she may be offended if Barker decided to question him.

  The kitchen door opened just as Barker started to stand up.

  “Well, if it isn’t Pete Barker! Long time, no see!”

  Jerry Ainsley stood in the doorway carrying two bulging bags of groceries. Nessa hurried over and took one of the bags out of Jerry’s arms and set it on the counter.

  “Hi, Jerry, how’ve you been?”

  “Pretty good, I guess. But I’d be doing a lot better if my wife worked less and took better care of herself. I worry about her.”

  Jerry looked at Nessa with raised eyebrows and shook his head playfully, but Barker could see the genuine concern that filled Jerry’s eyes. Nessa had already been shot and had miraculously survived. It was only natural for Jerry to be scared.

  An unfamiliar flash of envy jolted through Barker as he watched Nessa reach for Jerry’s hand and squeeze it. He turned and walked toward the front door, wanting to get away from the domestic scene.

  I remember when Caroline worried about me. Back then it pissed me off. But what I wouldn’t give now to hear her nagging.

  He stopped by the front door and looked down at the box of toys and games Taylor had left behind when she’d moved away. An ache started in his chest at the thought of driving away without them. Just knowing they were in the garage had made the possibility that she might come back some day seem real.

  “What’s that?” Nessa asked as she walked up behind him and followed his gaze.

  “Just something I didn’t want to leave in the car.”

  He picked up the box and turned back to Nessa.

  “Take care of Jerry and the kids, Nessa. Believe me when I say that family is the most important thing in the world. Some of us just don’t figure that out until it’s too late.”

  Nessa stared at Barker in surprised silence.

  “It’s not too late for you, Barker,” Nessa finally said, putting a warm hand on his arm. “I have hope for you yet.”

  But Barker wasn’t feeling very hopeful as he drove back toward
Leo Steel’s office. He turned to assure himself that the box was safely in the backseat, relieved that he’d decided to keep it after all.

  I haven’t given up on you, Taylor, and I never will.

  Chapter Ten

  Nessa watched Barker’s metallic blue Prius disappear around the corner before she stepped back inside. The pungent smell of burned food still hung in the air, reminding her that she needed to clean up the mess she’d made in the kitchen.

  And there’s a heap of dirty laundry to do as well, Nessa. Don’t forget about that.

  She made her way down the hall wondering why her weekends were often more stressful than a normal work day. The faint buzzing of her cell phone prompted a frantic search under stacks of papers and files until she found the phone wedged between her laptop bag and Cooper’s baseball mitt on the kitchen table.

  The number on the display was familiar, and for a split-second Nessa was tempted to let the call roll to voicemail. Eden Winthrop wouldn’t call her cell phone on a Saturday if the matter wasn’t urgent, and Nessa wasn’t sure she was ready to deal with another crisis right now. She was still recuperating from the last one.

  “Hello, Eden, how are you?”

  Nessa tried to keep her tone light. Maybe Eden was just trying to raise money for her charitable foundation. Maybe Nessa could simply agree to write a check to the Mercy Harbor Foundation and continue on with her chores.

  “I’m sorry to bother you on the weekend, Nessa, but I don’t want to wait until Monday to file a report, and I thought you might be able to help.”

  The strain in Eden’s voice confirmed Nessa’s worries; it wasn’t going to be a quick call. Nessa listened to Eden’s account of the last twenty-four hours with growing concern.

  “So, this young woman at Hope House was found unconscious and taken to the hospital, and now she’s disappeared without letting anyone know where she’s gone?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “And you think she might have hurt herself, or that something bad might have happened to her?”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of, but I’m not sure.”

  Nessa hesitated, knowing Eden wasn’t going to like what she was about to say.

  “From what you’ve told me Kara Stanislaus is an adult, and you have no evidence of foul play. That being the case, there’s not a whole lot I can do at this point. Now, once she’s been gone over twenty-four hours -”

  “You can’t be serious! Kara is missing and we’re supposed to just wait until it’s too late to help her…too late to do anything? What if she’s hurt somewhere, or what if she’s been abducted?”

  Nessa frowned at the obvious distress in Eden’s voice. Her emotional reaction likely stemmed from her niece’s recent abduction. Even though Hope was safely back at home, the situation had been traumatic and would almost surely cause Eden to be overly vigilant with the women who turned to her foundation for help.

  “What makes you think someone might have abducted Kara?”

  Eden’s next words were drowned out by the stomping of feet as Cole and Cooper led a trio of neighborhood kids into the kitchen and swung open the refrigerator. Nessa glared at the boys as she stepped out onto the back porch. She closed the door behind her, muffling the loud voices and laughter, but saw Jerry starting up the lawn mower.

  “Eden, how about we meet over at the station in about an hour? You can file a statement and we can try to figure out if there’s reason to think Kara Stanislaus may be in any kind of danger.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you there. And Nessa? Thanks for taking my call.”

  After Nessa disconnected the call she leaned against the porch rail and watched Jerry push the lawn mower around their little back yard. When he looked over she smiled and waved, but her spirits sank at the thought of what his reaction would be when she told him she had to go into the station, and that the Saturday matinee would have to wait.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Jankowski was at his desk talking on the phone when Nessa walked in. He looked over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows, surprised to see her at the station on a Saturday. She hadn’t worked a weekend since she’d returned to duty full time.

  Nessa stuck her tongue out at Jankowski’s broad back as she set down her laptop bag and water bottle. She could still see the look on Jerry’s face when she’d left the house. Of course, Jerry always worried that she was working too hard or doing too much, but today he’d looked downright angry as she’d rushed out the door, leaving the sink full of dishes and loads of laundry behind. His parting words played through her mind.

  So, you’re rushing off to save the day and leaving this mess behind for me to clean up? And let me guess, Jankowski will be there, too, right?

  Nessa could understand Jerry’s irritation at her sudden departure, but his comments about Jankowski worried her.

  He can’t possibly think something’s going on between me and Jankowski, can he? He’s gotta know there’s not a chance in hell I’d do that.

  She looked up to see Jankowski grinning at her.

  “Miss me too much to stay away?”

  Nessa felt an irrational pang of guilt at his playful words.

  “I’m here to take a statement from Eden Winthrop. She thinks a young woman may be missing.”

  Jankowski cocked his head, crossing thick arms over his chest.

  “Eden’s coming here? Who’s missing?”

  “A resident at that new rehab center,” Nessa responded, already knowing where his questions would lead. “I think she said the girl’s name was Kara.”

  “Is she a minor?”

  “No, she’s twenty-one.”

  “How long has she been gone?”

  “Since this morning.”

  Jankowski snorted and rolled his eyes.

  “An adult female with a history of drug use isn’t seen for eight hours and we’re supposed to open an investigation? Nessa, I know you feel like you owe something to Eden Winthrop, and I’m sure she’s still traumatized by everything that happened…but encouraging her irrational fears won’t help.”

  “This whole department owes something to Eden. She played a big part in bringing down Reinhardt and the traffickers from Miami. Not to mention saving me.”

  Nessa’s phone buzzed on the desk and she looked down to see a text from Eden. She pocketed the phone and stood up, aiming a disapproving stare at Jankowski.

  “The last time Eden reported a girl missing it turned out to be legit. I think we owe it to her to listen to what she has to say.”

  She hurried out of the room, not waiting for Jankowksi to respond. When she reached the lobby, Eden was pacing back and forth, hands shoved into the front pockets of her slim, black trousers.

  “Where’s Duke?”

  Nessa scanned the room for the golden retriever as Eden whirled around, offering her a wan smile.

  “I left him at home with Barb and the kids when I went to check on Kara this morning. He doesn’t like hospitals. I think it’s the smell.”

  “I don’t blame him,” Nessa agreed, thinking of her own recent hospital stay. “He’s a very smart dog.”

  Nessa led Eden to an interview room and motioned for her to sit.

  “You want a cup of coffee or some water?”

  “No thanks, Nessa. I don’t want to waste any more time. I have a bad feeling, and the more I think about it the more convinced I am that something terrible has happened to Kara.”

  A deep voice behind them made both women jump.

  “Hello, Eden. It’s good to see you again.”

  Jankowski’s face softened as he looked at Eden, and Nessa had to refrain from rolling her eyes. She’d almost forgotten her suspicions that Jankowski had a crush on the tall, curvy blonde.

  “Hi, Detective Jankowski, I didn’t know you’d be here.” Eden’s tone was apologetic. “Sorry to interrupt your day off.”

  “I was already on shift today and I’m glad to help. So, what makes you think something terrible has happened to…Car
rie?”

  “Her name is Kara Stanislaus and she’s a resident at Hope House. When I talked to her yesterday at the hospital she was determined to complete the program and get her life together. Now she’s just gone.”

  Jankowski sat at the table across from Eden and held up his hand.

  “Hold on, let’s take this step by step. Why exactly was Kara in the hospital?”

  “When she didn’t show up to her session we checked in her room. Found her unconscious with an empty bottle of methadone under her bed. Dr. Bellows thought she must have taken an overdose.”

  Eden looked at Jankowski and Nessa with worried eyes.

  “But it’s not that simple. Kara has been staying at Hope House because she’s recovering from an addiction to opioids. Methadone is prescribed as part of her treatment, and the doctor assumed that she’d somehow ingested too much. He gave her an antidote, something called naloxone, and called the ambulance.”

  “What do you mean by she somehow ingested too much methadone?” Jankowski prompted. “Was it an accident or did she intentionally take too much?”

  “According to Kara it was neither. She insisted she hadn’t taken the methadone, and she doesn’t know how the empty bottle got in her room.”

  Jankowski raised his eyebrows, not bothering to hide his skepticism at the idea Kara hadn’t knowingly ingested the pills.

  “I wasn’t sure I believed Kara either until Reggie got a call this afternoon from the hospital with the results of Kara’s blood tests. The hospital said they found no trace of methadone in Kara’s bloodwork.”

  Jankowksi ran a hand through his thick hair and looked over at Nessa as if unsure what the next question should be.

  “Do they know why she passed out?” Nessa asked, her concern growing.

  “They said they would need to run more tests on Kara to find out if she has a medical condition or if perhaps she’d taken something other than methadone.”

  “Taken something else? Did the hospital say what it might be?”

  “No, they just said that it’s possible there were other drugs in her system, but more tests would be needed to be sure.”