by Debra Webb
He held her gaze a moment, his hat in his hands. “We should sit down.”
Rowan grabbed him by the arm and dragged him inside. She closed the door and motioned toward the sofa. “We have to hurry. I don’t have a lot of time.” Damn Woody Holder for leaving her in this position.
“I’ll make it as fast as I can.” Billy took a seat. He glanced around. “What happened to the security system? I thought they were coming today to install.”
“They were backed up this morning with one of the technicians out sick so they couldn’t come until this afternoon.” She turned her hands up. “That wasn’t possible because of the service, so they rescheduled for Monday.”
Billy shook his head. “I’ll call and see what I can do.”
She waved him off. “I don’t have time to worry about that.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the photo of her sister wearing the necklace. Maybe not the necklace but one like it. She handed it to Billy. “You should enter this into evidence, I guess.”
He nodded and accepted the photo, studied it closely. She didn’t miss the slight hitch in his respiration. “Sure looks like the same necklace.”
She shrugged. “It does. Like I told you before, that photo—” she nodded toward his hand “—was taken the day she died. Just before she left for the party at the Vining home.” This was not stacking up for a good outcome. Her chest ached at all the malice that seemed to be rising to the surface.
Billy stared at the photo for a long moment, then tucked it into his shirt pocket. “The necklace was discovered only a few yards from where Raven’s body was found, nearly three decades apart.”
Rowan nodded. The scenario forming in her head was far too bizarre to even consider.
“I keep asking myself,” he said with a shake of his head, “how the rescuers tromped around in that area and didn’t see the Addington girl’s body. I need to track down the ones who discovered Raven’s body and get a blow-by-blow account—as best anyone can give nearly thirty years later—of exactly what happened that evening.”
Rowan’s heart began to beat faster. “Boat number two of the rescue teams on the water that day was the one to find her. Then the paramedics and police moved in via ground. Which meant all or part of the group had to have walked through those woods.” Right past where Alisha had lain.
“But by the time they went into the area, they were focused on recovering the body of a missing girl—a local—someone everyone in the community knew.” Billy’s forehead furrowed in concentration. “They weren’t looking for anyone else. If the underbrush was thick enough, and it probably was, and most likely it was too early after Alisha’s murder for an odor, the rescue team would have had no reason to look around. They were locked onto their mission.”
Rowan thought of the necklace and the proximity of the two bodies. “No matter how this looks, my sister could not have been involved in what happened to Alisha. The reports have all suggested that Raven drowned somewhere close to the Vining home and then the water carried her to where she was found.”
Billy held her gaze for a moment before responding, “Did she?”
His question echoed in the silence that followed.
When she said nothing, he went on, “Based on the reports from that day, no one actually saw her go into the water.”
Rowan hadn’t considered the possibility that her sister had not gone into the water somewhere beyond the Vining’s backyard. All these years, she had believed Raven got into trouble in the water and was swept away without anyone noticing until it was too late. She had just assumed, as everyone else did, that was the sequence of tragic events.
“I’ll talk to Holcomb and get the names of the folks who did the actual recovery.”
Rowan licked her lips, wished her mouth didn’t feel so parched. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking Raven was lured away by this older girl and murdered, then dragged down to the water to make it look as if she’d drowned.”
Rowan flinched at the image of Alisha holding Raven under the water.
“Sorry.” He stared at the hat in his hands for a moment. “Her own mother suspected she had tendencies like her father.”
“She actually made that statement to you—an officer of the law assigned to the task force hunting her ex-husband?”
Billy nodded. “She did.”
“Considering the mother’s admission, the scenario you suggested is certainly a valid one. Raven was adventurous and completely fearless.” Cold seeped into Rowan’s bones. “The idea of some older girl from a place like Los Angeles wanting to talk to her—she would definitely have gone along. If we go with the theory that Alisha was out for revenge against the people she saw as responsible for taking her father, then who killed Alisha?”
Billy opened his mouth to respond but hesitated.
“What?” she demanded. This was not the time to withhold his thoughts even if whatever he had on his mind was something she didn’t want to hear.
“If we go down this road, that opens up your parents—and you—to scrutiny. The people closest to Raven are the ones who would have the most motive to retaliate for her murder.”
As always, he had a very good point. “First, I know it wasn’t me.”
Billy smiled sadly. “That’s good to hear. But it won’t stop the investigation from targeting you. This is a dead girl from California who happens to be the daughter of a wanted serial killer. The feds are already all over it. This could turn into a media frenzy.”
Rowan couldn’t focus on where the investigation would go or how the media would react to it. With her entire being she resisted any possible connection. “It couldn’t have been my father. He was preparing the body of Caroline Rutherford’s mother. She died the night before, remember? They wanted to have her visitation that same evening but couldn’t because my sister had died.”
Billy nodded slowly. “Yeah. I remember.”
“So that only leaves Norah.” Rowan felt a twinge of guilt for automatically wanting to point a finger at her mother. But the truth was, if it was one of them, it had to be her. Anna’s words about Norah having dissociative identity disorder nudged at Rowan. The diagnosis was not confirmed. Rowan had made several calls, and the hospital she had named was indeed closed—extremely convenient. Rowan wasn’t going down that path without evidence.
But it would explain so much...
Worry gnawed at her. Her inability to remember so many things recently, the sleeplessness and the bizarre dreams. Could those be signs she was headed down that same path?
“You stayed home that day. Do you have any idea what your mother did?”
Billy’s question drew her from the disturbing thoughts. Rowan had racked her brain trying to recall where Norah was the day Raven died and so far nothing had come to her. “She wasn’t home. I remember thinking that she should have taken me along with her since I wasn’t invited to the party Raven was attending.”
Her mother never took either of them on her research trips. No matter how Rowan tried to see it, something was wrong with that scenario. Her mother had either been having an affair as Anna Addington asserted or was up to something else that was no good. Rowan’s instincts had been telling her that her whole life, but she hadn’t wanted to own it.
It was past time she faced the fact that Norah DuPont had never really been a good mother—she’d had her moments, but mostly she had not done so well. She clearly hadn’t been a very good wife, either. Certainly not a traditional one. Why had her father stayed in the relationship?
Anger sparked in Rowan’s chest, but along with the anger came culpability and doubt. She was condemning her mother without knowing all the facts and she had no idea if her conclusions held any real merit. All she had was the word of a bitter woman.
Rowan looked to her friend. “Tell me the rest of what she said to you.”
Billy exhaled a
big breath. “She believes Addington and your mother were having an affair. She said he was obsessed with her. She is certain her daughter came here out of curiosity because she learned about her father’s fascination with Norah.”
Rowan understood that he was making this easy on her. “I have a feeling there was more.”
He shook his head. “She believes he sees you as his other Norah. He’s obsessed with you. I think she’s just hanging around to see what happens next. Like an episode of some housewives’ reality show.”
Not once had Rowan ever felt like the object of his obsession...at least, not until recently. He’d hidden all those heinous aspects of his personality from her.
“Ro, is there something else bothering you? If he’s contacted you again—”
“No.” She shook her head, hadn’t meant to get distracted. “This is unnerving, but we need to know what happened. The only way to do that is to dig until we find it.” She took a big breath. “Did you have any luck with the other interviews?”
“I talked to all three of your sister’s friends. None of them had seen Alisha. They were all at the party but don’t remember seeing Raven leave or go into the water.”
“What about her behavior that day? Her mental state?” Rowan had so many questions. And yet she wasn’t sure she wanted all the answers...but she needed the answers.
“Nothing out of the ordinary beyond a dispute with Cardwell over a boy.” He shrugged. “No offense to your sister’s choice in friends, but as airheaded as those three were back then, I doubt they remember their own mental states, much less anyone else’s.”
Unfortunately, he was correct on that assessment.
“So we have no concrete evidence of anything?” Her shoulders drooped. All they had were more questions.
“There is one thing we now know for sure.”
His tone told her it wasn’t good. “At this point I’ll take anything.”
“Your dad did go to the Night Owl the first part of January, right after New Year’s. He met someone there. They talked for a few minutes and then he left.”
Worry swept through her. “Who?”
“Julian Addington.”
* * *
Rowan adjusted Charlie Hall’s tie and stood back to make sure she was happy with how he looked lying in his casket. Though the light blue suit was from the eighties, it was in pristine condition. His oldest daughter had delivered it for her dad. She’d forgotten a tie so Rowan had selected a navy one from the stockroom. Mr. Hall was a World War II veteran so a flag had been placed atop his casket.
“He looks good,” Herman said. “You haven’t lost your touch, Ro.”
She laughed. “I’m a little rusty.”
She smoothed down a wisp of the dead man’s hair. “Herman, do you think my mother was having an affair or affairs with all that traveling?”
They both turned from the casket and walked through the parlor to ensure all was ready for the visitation. The family would be here any moment. Rowan had changed into a lavender suit and matching heels. She wasn’t one to throw money away except when it came to shoes. She had a pair to match every suit and dress she owned.
“I suppose it’s possible, Ro, but your daddy never mentioned any such worry. Where are you getting this idea?”
She told him about Anna Addington’s visit and the possibility that the daughter, Alisha, had been involved with Raven somehow. She kept the idea of Raven’s death being a murder to herself. She would need far more in terms of evidence to make such a statement even to a longtime family friend like Herman.
“I don’t know why I keep dreaming of them arguing.” She shook her head. Every single night she dreamed of Raven calling to her. Come into the water, Rowan. I miss you. She shuddered inwardly. And every night there were the dreams of Norah. Those dreams were completely random and disconnected. Norah was digging in the flowers or making a mess in the kitchen, but there was always the arguing. Rowan could hear her mother arguing with a man but she couldn’t make out who the man was. In the dream Rowan inched closer and closer to the door of the room where they were arguing but couldn’t bring herself to look. Her training told her that this was because she did in fact recognize the voice and seeing him would force her to face the truth—a truth she clearly had suppressed.
Sadly, this was in all probability true.
At the door she and Herman stood back and viewed the room as a whole. The flowers were arranged symmetrically around the deceased. Charlotte and Herman would see that Mr. Hall and all his flowers were moved to the church when the visitation was over, and then to the cemetery. With the preparations complete, she and Herman progressed into the corridor and checked the podium and guest registry.
Rowan decided to broach the other issue on her mind. “Did you ever know of my mother to behave erratically or in an unstable manner?”
He laughed. “Well, other than her running around chasing her dream, not really.” The big man shrugged. He’d been a football player in high school and he still had the broad shoulders. “I mean, she was a little here and there and all over the place, but that was just Norah.”
“How do you mean?” More of the worry that had become her constant companion twisted inside her.
“Well, she’d start something and then move on to something else. Seemed like she would forget all about the first thing she started. Then she’d look to you girls and accuse you of making the mess she made and lost interest in. A little scattered, I guess, is the best way to put it.”
Fear pooled in the pit of Rowan’s stomach. “Did she ever leave something on the stove? Forget to lock the door? Things like that.”
Herman laughed. “All the time. She always swore she’d forget her head if it wasn’t attached.”
Why couldn’t Rowan remember any of those things happening with her mother?
“She was a good momma, though,” Herman assured her. “Just a little different, that’s all.”
“She was never ill? In the hospital or anything?”
He shrugged. “Only to have you girls. If she was ever in the hospital it was when she went off on one of her trips and didn’t tell anyone.”
And yet, as Anna Addington had stated, the FBI was in fact reviewing a patient file on Norah DuPont found among Julian’s stored records. Dressler had informed Rowan that he could tell her nothing more regarding the file. Rowan had been so frustrated she’d ended the call without so much as a goodbye. Not exactly professional, but then, there was nothing professional about this case. It was entirely personal.
That much was very clear.
“Herman, do you remember the day Raven died? I mean, the details?”
“Every single minute,” he confirmed. “As quick as I could I joined the search, like most everyone else in town.”
“I was at home,” Rowan said, her mind going back all those years. “In my room. Mad that Raven had been invited to that party and I hadn’t. Mother was off somewhere.”
“She said she was going to Tullahoma to the big bookstore. Some author was there speaking and signing books.” Herman frowned. “I thought you went with her.”
Rowan laughed. “Are you kidding? She didn’t like Raven or me going with her when she was doing anything related to her books.”
“Hmm. I guess I didn’t realize you were in your room. I thought you were with her.” Another deep frown furrowed his face. “You’re right, though, ’cause when she joined your father to search for Raven, she was alone.”
“Daddy was preparing Mrs. Rutherford,” Rowan said, remembering the lady who had looked so old at the time, but she’d only been a few years older than Rowan was now. It was scary how fast time flew.
“He was.” Herman nodded. “Then he got that phone call and had to rush out like a wild man. I was finishing up when he came back.” He sighed. “Wasn’t long after that he got the call about Raven and hurr
ied out to join the search.”
Rowan turned to him. “Are you saying my father left the funeral home that day before he received the call about Raven?”
Herman nodded. “He sure did.” Then he frowned. “He never did say what happened. I just figured Norah had gotten herself into a fix and needed his help. He usually didn’t say much when she did something odd. He was always respectful of her, even when she didn’t really deserve it.”
Herman talked on and on but Rowan didn’t hear anymore. She couldn’t get past the news that some part of her father’s time was unaccounted for on the day Alisha Addington was murdered...on the day Raven died.
And there was the meeting Billy had told her about. Her chest tight with too much uneasiness already, she forced the words past her lips. “Did my father ever mention meeting with Julian in Nashville or here aside from when I introduced them years ago?”
Herman made a face. “He surely did not. He didn’t like that man one little bit. No way he would have met him anywhere unless it was for you.”
But he had... Billy had confirmed the meeting.
Herman was right, though. It probably had been for her.
Eighteen
Billy studied the reports spread over the small conference room table. He and Lincoln had been over these reports a dozen times and nothing had jumped out at them. Not one statement that led away from the idea that Raven DuPont had swum out into the water and disappeared. Reasons unknown. Her death had ultimately been ruled an accidental drowning.
The members of the search team who had gone through those woods to recover her body had prepared detailed reports. All four had been focused on getting to Raven.
“The kids were moved into the house,” Lincoln said. “Mrs. Vining detailed the steps she took to usher the children inside and to do a head count. The only one missing was Raven. Everyone else was present and accounted for.”
“But no one could confirm exactly how long she had been missing.”
Lincoln shook his head. “One girl said she saw her talking to a boy, but when questioned further she realized the conversation she witnessed had been earlier in the day. Hours before anyone realized Raven was missing. Someone else said they saw her go into the house to use the bathroom and never saw her again after that.”
