The Inheritance Part I

by Mayfield, Olivia

  She pulled back and shook her head. “No, I’m . . .” She swallowed. “I’m researching my sister. Since I’m in town for a bit, I decided to dig in and see if I could find anything new. Distance and perspective, you know.” While she felt bad lying to him, she wasn’t ready to tell the truth about the inheritance yet.

  His face fell, and he rubbed her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

  He knew, of course. Even though he’d been in college when Cassandra had gone missing, the whole town had been shaken up by the disappearance. Hell, the whole state had. Total chaos for weeks on end, blasted across TV, radio, a never-ending stream of her sister’s face splashed everywhere.

  “The file’s right here,” the policewoman said from behind the glass, passing a stapled packet of papers under the glass.

  David’s eyes flicked to the papers. “I hope you find your answers in there,” he said. “Are you gonna be in town for a bit? Maybe we can have a coffee and catch up.”

  “I’d like that,” she said warmly. She took a steeling breath and willed a big smile back on her face. “Hey, David? I know this is probably a huge thing to ask, but I need to beg you for a favor if possible.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

  “From what I remember, there was evidence collected from my sister’s room, like her diary and cell phone and other things.” She rushed on. “So, is there any way I can possibly take a peek at whatever is in there? Even just a few minutes with the evidence would be helpful.”

  He rubbed his chin, conflict clearly in his eyes. “I’d love to assist you, but I don’t know if I can.”

  She bit her lip and pushed down the sinking feeling in her stomach. “I know it’s a big thing to ask, and I’d be happy to return the favor somehow, if I even could.”

  A long moment passed as he studied her face. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, fighting the urge to squirm. It was sheer luck that she knew someone who worked here—this had to be fate giving her a helping hand. She hoped.

  “Tell you what, Maggie,” he said with a slow drawl, opening the door behind him that led into the station. “Let me give you a little tour of the station. And I just might need to get a refill on my coffee while we’re walking around. Throat gets kinda dry when I talk too much.”

  Her heart thudded in painful relief. He was going to give her a few unsanctioned minutes to see the case evidence. She smiled widely. “That would be perfect, thank you.”

  ***

  The tour was quick, as promised. He showed her the operator’s station, the detectives’ desks, the firing practice room, and finally they made their way to the evidence room.

  “Hey, Stan,” he said to the round, sweating cop standing just outside the room. “We need to check some stuff out in here.”

  “No problem,” Stan replied, swiping a hand across his balding head. He dug around on the key ring and procured a key, which he used to unlock the door. “Just make sure to lock up behind you.”

  “Thank you,” she told him.

  He nodded then sauntered through the room over to a desk tucked in the corner, quickly plodding away at the computer.

  The room contained rows of metal shelves, overflowing with boxes, bags and folders of all shapes and sizes. So many cases in here, possibly like her sister’s. So many people still seeking answers. Her heart panged in sadness.

  “This is the evidence room,” David said. “As you can see, of course. It’s packed full with all the physical material we gather on cases.”

  “How can we find which one is Cassandra’s?” she asked.

  “We have ’em filed in a certain order. I’ll pop on the computer in here and find out where hers is.” He waved toward a beat-up table just outside of the evidence room, nestled against the wall with a lone chair. “Have a seat over there, please.”

  She nodded and slipped into the rickety metal seat while he slipped deeper into the evidence room. The back right leg of the chair wobbled as she dug into her purse and grabbed her notebook. Her heart stammered in anticipation. What would be in the evidence box for her sister? Would she find what she needed?

  After a few minutes, David reappeared, bearing a small closed box. “Okay, here’s what we have.” He made a show of glancing at his watch. “I’m going to grab a cup of coffee. You want anything?”

  She shook her head. Her hands were shaking so hard right now that caffeine would only make it worse. “Thank you again,” she whispered.

  “Missing kid cases shake up everyone in the department,” he replied, the lightness in his eyes gone. “No matter how long ago it happened.” He paused. “I hope you find your sister, Maggie. And if I can help with that, it’s worth it.” He gave her a small salute, then sauntered down the hallway.

  Maggie peeled back the tape sealing the box and sucked in a ragged breath, opening the flaps. There were two small, sealed bags bearing a scrap of fabric and her sister’s cell phone, folders crammed with paper and the like. She grabbed the cell out of the bag first and tried to turn it on, despite the odds of it actually working after eight years. The battery was dead, of course. Well, maybe the phone records were in the large manila folder at the bottom of the box.

  She popped the cell back in the bag and gave a tiny gasp when she saw another bag tucked in the corner. Holding her sister’s red cloth diary.

  It was here.

  Her fingers slipped as she tugged the book out of the bag and opened it to the title page. Cassandra’s name was written in huge, loopy letters. As tempting as it was to start at the first page, she knew time was ticking down. She skipped to the last couple of entries.

  July 12

  I’m so bored. It’s hot outside and I don’t want to do anything. There’s a big party on Saturday and I don’t know if Robert will let me come along. Maybe I’ll crash it, anyway. J He can’t say no if I’m already there, right? Besides, Joel is gonna be there, and I really REALLY need this chance to make him see he should fall in love with me.

  Maggie bit her lip. Joel—here he was, in her diary. He was at the party too, from what she remembered. She definitely needed to speak to him and find out if he’d seen anything. She turned her focus back to the entry.

  Maggie’s moping around because Andrew’s dodging her calls, so I know she won’t go with me. I don’t get what’s wrong with them. He’s so gorgeous and he seems to really love her. I want someone to love me like that.

  She swallowed, tears stinging her eyes, and tilted her head back so the tears wouldn’t plop onto the diary. God, she missed Cassandra. Despite her sister’s flirtatiousness, deep down she’d believed in love, had wanted to find someone special.

  July 16

  It’s party time! When this night is over, Joel won’t know what hit him. Wait, he will—it’ll be me, looking super hot. Tonight I’m going to talk to him. I’m not leaving that barn without a kiss or twelve.

  Though I feel really bad right now, because Andrew dumped Maggie today. On the phone. Lame. If he’s at the party, I’m kicking his ass for that. She may mother me too much sometimes, but she’s a good person. He’s stupid for giving that up. Maybe I can talk to him and get him to stop being such a tool to her.

  Mom’s calling me for dinner. I’ll be back.

  OMG so after dinner I sent Joel a text to make sure he was going to be there. He said he would and that he wanted to talk to me. Privately. I am squealing so loud in my head right now I’m sure everyone in the house can hear it! Aaaaah! Tonight is going to be an unforgettable night—I can feel it. <3 <3

  That was the last entry in the diary. Maggie choked back a sob. Her sister had no idea how right she was.

  Maggie would never forget the panic of her mom waking her up in the morning, asking if she knew where Cassandra was. Searching her sister’s room. Calling everyone Cassandra had ever hung out with. Hounding each and every person the family kne
w—but to no avail. Cassandra had vanished.

  She swallowed, swallowed again. Her hand shook only slightly as she jotted down a few notes in her notebook. On impulse, she grabbed her cell and took shots of the last two diary entries, plus a few more of the entire contents of the box, just for the hell of it. She tucked the diary back into the bag, then into the box, and looked at a slender bag bearing only a small scrap of white, ripped fabric. What was it?

  Delicate. Lacy.

  Panties.

  A piece of her sister’s underwear. Held as evidence.

  Her stomach heaved. She dropped the bag in the box then bent over, drawing in several quick breaths. She couldn’t puke—not here.

  Could her sister’s disappearance have been a sex crime? She hadn’t remembered a word whispered about that possibility. Then again, would someone really tell a seventeen-year-old girl that her sister had possibly been raped before she’d vanished off the face of the earth?

  Had the police run any sort of DNA testing on the fabric?

  “Hey, how’s it going?” David asked, his voice warm and steady as he brought over a cup of coffee. “I know you said you didn’t need one, but I figured you might change your mind.”

  She accepted the cup and wrapped her now-chilled fingers around it, though her stomach was still a little pinched. “Thanks.”

  He stood and stared down at her, his gaze filled with concern. “Everything okay? Did you find what you were looking for? I’d give you longer if I could, but I have to head out soon.”

  “I . . . don’t know, actually. There’s a lot of stuff in here.” She gave a helpless shrug and took a sip of the strong coffee, willing the liquid to stay on her stomach. “If I have any questions, is it okay if I talk to you about it?”

  “No problem.” He gathered the box back up, taking a cursory glance inside, then looking back at her with an apologetic smile on his face. “You didn’t take anything out of here, did you? Since she’s a minor and this is sensitive case information, it all has to stay in the box. Sorry, I have to ask.”

  “No, it’s all in there.” In spite of her sudden desire to rip the diary back out of the box and take it with her. Her sister’s words and heart didn’t belong stuck in an evidence room. Which was why she had to solve this case and get the stuff back where it belonged. At home.

  David put the box back, then came into the hallway again. “If you need to come back and see it another day, just give me a call. I don’t work tomorrow, but I’m in the next day.” He dug into his breast pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it to her. “It was good seeing you, Maggie, though I wish it were under better circumstances.”

  “Me too.” She was surprised to find she meant it. She’d left so much more behind than just broken memories. Like people who had cared about her. Maybe she could reach out while she was here, reconnect. David would be a great resource.

  He winked. “Well, let’s hang out somewhere with better coffee next time, okay? The station isn’t exactly known for its gourmet bean offerings.”

  She gave a shaky smile. “It’s a deal.”

  David escorted her back to the front of the station. Maggie shuffled back to her car with her notebook and case printout, her mind spinning, her heart heavy. If she was going to get to the bottom of this, she was going to have to talk to her parents and find out what they hadn’t told her about the case. Why the police had a small scrap of Cassandra’s panties in a bag. If anyone had talked to Joel about what he’d seen . . . hell, if anyone even knew where he was now.

  So much to do. And time was going to be her enemy if she didn’t get on it soon.

  Chapter 6

  Maggie made her way back to her parents’ home, back upstairs to her room. The house was completely quiet, her steps echoing across the wood floor. She didn’t like staying here when no one else was around. It was eerie. The impulse to flee the place hit her hard and heavy.

  Not yet. She grabbed her laptop out of her computer bag, headed down to the kitchen and fired off an email to the multimillion-dollar company she was currently contracting for, letting them know she’d be out of town for a few weeks but would stay in constant touch and continue their website redesign from here. Working from home had its benefits.

  Now it was time to create the timeline of incidents. Piece together the evidence she had right now, plus her memories of that fateful day. She’d definitely take David up on his offer and give him a call later, ask when she could revisit the evidence room and check out those phone records, see results for whatever DNA scans had been run.

  What had Andrew found out so far, if anything? His offer leaped to the forefront of her mind again. Should she trust him? Seeing him mentioned in Cassandra’s diary brought all those memories crashing hard on her.

  Maybe she could meet with him today or tomorrow, try to find out what he knew without giving away any of her hand. If they did meet, she’d have to keep her cool, not let him know he rattled her even after all this time.

  But first, to focus on the task at hand.

  TIMELINE, she wrote in big block letters at the top of a piece of paper.

  6 p.m.—dinner with the family. Cassandra was in attendance, as was Robert.

  8:30 p.m.—Cassandra showered, dressed, borrowed a pair of my earrings. Came in my room and talked to me. Last time I saw her.

  8:45 p.m.—Robert left for the party.

  9:30 p.m.—Cassandra hitched a ride from a friend and left for the party.

  And that was the end of her personal knowledge of that night. A big, gaping void that would have to be filled with whatever else she could scrounge up. She dug into the police report and scanned through to see what the responding officer had written.

  9:45 a.m., Saturday July 17

  Minor child Cassandra Willings, age 16, was reported missing by mother, Susan Willings, at 9 a.m.—missing child had attended a large party the previous evening but didn’t come home. Her brother, Robert Willings, age 18, had attended the same party and said the last time he’d seen missing child was sometime between 12 a.m. and 2 a.m., when she’d left the barn to enter the neighboring woods with a Caucasian, brown-haired male, approximately 6 feet, slender build, age 18-20—a person he didn’t know who had possibly attended the party uninvited. This information is corroborated by two other attendees at that party—Joel Neumeyer, age 18, and Scott Macomber, age 18, who were in missing child’s family’s living room after being called by missing child’s mother.

  All three witnesses above appear to be intoxicated and likely under the influence of illegal substances. They show signs of paranoia and fear of talking to responding officers, due to the above factors. Eyes appear bloodshot and hands are shaking. Will be interrogated more thoroughly once they become sober—for now, will leave them in the care of their parents.

  Maggie paused her reading to write down Joel’s and Scott’s names in her notebook and add the above information to her timeline. Then she opened her computer and started searching for their names—surprisingly neither had any social media profiles, but she did find out that Joel lived on the east side of Cleveland and worked in sales for a sheet metal company. She wrote down his business number and picked up her cell, dialing it.

  It rang, then went to voice mail.

  “Joel,” she said, clearing her throat. “Um, my name is Maggie Willings—I’m Robert Willings’s sister. We went to high school together in Bay Village. I’m not sure if you remember me, but I really need to talk to you. About Cassandra, my sister.” She paused and left her cell phone number, adding, “Please call me back as soon as you can—it’s urgent. Thank you.”

  One down, one to go. But after a half hour of thoroughly searching online, no phone or email records came up for Scott. It appeared he was going to be harder to find. Harder, but not impossible. She’d have to keep trying.

  But first, to take in some fresh air. Her stomach was
churning, her eyes burning. It was hard to shove aside the realization that this was her own sister in the report. She needed a small break.

  Maggie tucked all the papers into the first page of her notebook and sucked in several small breaths. Small steps. She’d get through this, but she had to pull herself emotionally out of it as much as possible. With a snort, she knew that wasn’t going to happen. She was too vested in the investigation.

  Maybe it was time to hit the local spots and see who knew where Scott was. If he couldn’t be found online, he could surely be found by an old friend.

  Maggie’s cell rang. Her heart thudded as she glanced down at the caller ID screen. It wasn’t Joel, though. It was her mother. “Hello?”

  “Maggie, I’m running late at work and I need you to pick up a few things from the grocery store to make lasagna for dinner . . . if you don’t mind,” her mom added.

  “Sure.” She flipped to the last page of her notebook and scrawled down the items her mother asked for to make her lasagna tonight. “Um, Mom,” she said, her face suddenly burning. “I’m going to need to . . . I need to interview you and Dad. About Cassandra. I understand when I was a kid that you guys tried to protect me, but there are things I have to know to proceed.”

  Her mom sighed, and Maggie heard the phone shift. “I know. It’s . . .” She paused and gave a slight sniff. “We’ll talk tonight if we have time. And I’ll tell you everything I know.”

  “Um, have you talked to Robert about it yet?” It was a reasonable question, but she felt guilty asking.

  On her way home from the station, Maggie had called her brother’s cell and asked him once more if he’d reconsider pairing up. That it was important to their parents and they could pool their knowledge. After a moment’s pause, Robert had rebuffed her with a blunt, “I think we should work on our own,” getting off the phone as quickly as possible. She’d wanted to yell at him, ask him why the money was more important than finding the truth, but what good would it do? His mind was obviously made up.