“Of course.”
“Ron had a special fondness for what he liked to call Badge Bunnies.”
Joshua bit back his disgust. Badge Bunnies were women who were practically groupies for cops. They learned the places cops frequented, and they frequented those places also, all in an effort to play out their romantic aspirations.
“Anyone in particular?”
“Lucinda Ballantine. There were a few others here and there. She was the one who lasted the longest.”
“Did Roberta Whitaker know?”
“Most people in town did. I’m sure word got back to her eventually.”
“One more question.”
“Go ahead. I’m going to start charging you as a consultant, though.”
“How many files were there on this case?”
“Boxes and boxes. Why?”
“There’s only one box here at the station.”
“That can’t be right,” Chief Owens said. “We had people calling in from all over the country. There were all kinds of sightings, though none of them panned out. We kept records of all of them, though.”
That’s what Joshua had thought. So what had happened to all that information? “Thanks for your help, Chief.”
“I hope you do find out what happened to Andrea,” Chief Owens said. “I’m a little older and wiser now. I wish there had been things done differently, looking back. Everyone deserves justice. Everyone.”
Fifteen minutes later, Joshua was on his way to see Lucinda Ballantine. She actually didn’t live in Hertford, but over in Elizabeth City, a town that was only about ten minutes away and considerably larger than Hertford.
He pulled up to an old house in the historical part of town. The outside was plain with no flower beds, but the exterior still remained neat. An old sedan rested in the driveway.
Joshua walked up the faded steps and knocked on the door. A moment later, a woman in her fifties appeared, a cool glass of tea in her hands. The woman was blonde and trim and wore snug clothing that drew attention to her cleavage.
“I’m looking for Lucinda Ballantine,” he said.
“What can I do for you?” she said, her voice almost having a purr-like quality.
“I’m Officer Joshua Haven with the Hertford Police Department. I’m hoping to ask you a few questions.”
“Pertaining to?”
“The disappearance of Andrea Whitaker.”
The light left her gaze. “Andrea. I see. Yes, yes. By all means, come in.” She pushed the door open.
Joshua followed her past the foyer and into her living room.
“Can I get you some sweet tea? Everyone always says I make the best.” She raised her eyebrows as she waited for his answer.
“I’m fine. Thank you, though.”
With a nervous swipe of hair behind her ear, she lowered herself into a chair across from him. “How can I help you, then?”
“We’re considering reopening the investigation into Andrea Whitaker. Your name came up today.”
Her head twitched ever so slightly. “Did it?”
“Ma’am, do you mind if I ask you if you knew Andrea’s father, Ron Whitaker?”
She nodded stiffly. “I did know him. We met at the Red Horse Inn. I was working as a waitress there, and several police officers used to frequent the place.”
“What was the nature of your relationship?”
She lowered her lashes in mock modesty. “Women of character don’t speak of such things.”
“It’s important to the investigation, Mrs. Ballantine. I realize it might be uncomfortable. I apologize for that.”
Her coy expression vanished, and she leaned back against the couch, some of her pretense disappearing. “We fooled around. I knew he was married. I knew it was wrong. But I did it anyway.”
“What happened?”
“We weren’t serious. He wasn’t leaving his wife. And that was that. I’m not sure how this pertains to Andrea’s disappearance. The man loved his daughter. He’d never do anything to hurt her.”
“What did you think happened?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t know. I didn’t even have any good ideas. Honestly, the whole thing just broke him. That’s how I know he couldn’t be behind it. But there is something I need to confess, just to get it off my chest after all these years.”
Joshua’s neck tightened. “What’s that?”
“When the FBI stepped in, I told them I was with Ron when the crime occurred. I didn’t admit to having an affair with him; I just said he’d been at the Red Horse. The place was empty at the time, so there was no one else there to verify the story.”
“Why’d you lie for him?”
“He asked me to. Said the police always looked at the person closest to the victim. He didn’t want them to waste time examining him when the real kidnapper was out there.”
“Interesting. When did the two of you break things off?”
She frowned and stared into the distance. “About a month later. He began crumbling. He wasn’t himself at all.”
“Do the two of you still speak?”
“We haven’t in two years.”
“Two years?”
She nodded. “He showed up at my door one day. Said it was a mistake to ever let me go.” Her frown deepened. “The truth eventually came out. His wife was going to leave him for someone else. He just showed up here as some kind of revenge.”
“His wife was leaving him?” That was the first Joshua had heard of that. Was it relevant to the case? Probably not. But sometimes the most unexpected tidbits could lead to answers.
She nodded. “That’s what he said. Who knows what happened? She died five days later in that auto accident.”
CHAPTER 27
Charity still had an hour before she was supposed to meet Joshua for lunch. He’d called her last night and asked if he could see her, and, of course, she’d said yes. She’d finished with today’s task earlier than she’d anticipated, though, and now had time to kill.
This morning she’d met with an insurance adjuster to go over the claim. She was surprised when he’d told her the amount she’d most likely receive because of the fire. It was more than she’d ever imagined. Not that she’d anticipated the money, but it would be nice if she was able to get ahead.
She paced over to the small pier behind Daleigh’s home. The small wooden structure stretched into the Perquimans River. In the distance, she could see the town’s “famous” S bridge, as well as the large memorial bridge that was a part of the Ocean Highway.
The area felt like a little oasis. Cypress trees dotted the water, making the water look almost tealike in appearance. Spanish moss draped the limbs, almost making it feel spooky, even in broad daylight. With the insurance money Charity might get back, she might be able to afford her own little oasis somewhere.
But not here in Hertford, she reminded herself. It would never work for her here, even though she’d been trying to convince herself to believe that it could recently. Even if she could put closure to the tragedy surrounding Andrea, there were too many bad memories.
Her mind turned to those journals and the intruder at Joshua’s house. What if it had been Andrea? What if she’d wanted them to find those journals? Why? What was inside those pages that someone would want discovered?
The longer Charity stayed here in Hertford, the more unsettled she became.
She shook off the thoughts.
Behind her, she heard a mower starting. She glanced over and saw a man with long hair in Daleigh’s sister’s yard. Her sister, Hannah was her name, was also on vacation this week. School started next week, so more than one family in the area had that idea, apparently.
The man looked slightly familiar, and he waved to her as he began pushing the mower. At least he hadn’t shunned her the way some people in town had.
So much for her peace and quiet, though. Maybe she should take a walk to pass some time. It beat turning over her thoughts again and again.
As she started
past Hannah’s house, the lawn mower died. She looked over and saw the man looking at her. Immediately, her muscles tensed.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to stare,” the man started. “It’s good to see you back here.”
She paused. “Do I know you?”
He shook his head. “No, but everyone around here knows who you are. I always thought it was wrong that those people drove you out of town. I’m glad you’re finally showing people what you’re made of.”
Charity felt her cheeks heat with gratitude. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
He nodded and then got back to work.
As she walked down the street, she had a new spring to her step. Funny how one little affirmation could do that.
She stopped at a couple of shops, realizing that she was taking some kind of step toward overcoming her past by doing these simple acts by herself. Even better, no one confronted her or demanded to know why she was back in town.
As she was about to leave a hardware store, she paused at a figure she spotted in the window.
Lawrence Whitaker.
He was staring right at her.
When he saw her, he burst into a run.
***
Joshua noticed that Charity looked paler than usual when he picked her up for lunch in his cruiser. Before he could ask her about it, he had her sign a waiver so she could ride with him. He didn’t want to be accused of favoritism.
“Am I an official ride-along participant?” Charity asked.
He smiled. “Just keeping things official in case anyone says anything. You’re a witness in a cold case that’s being reopened. There’s nothing wrong with you being with me while I’m at work. I just have to cross every t and dot every i.”
“I can appreciate that.”
He shoved the clipboard under his seat before taking off. “Everything okay?”
She sighed. “I just caught Lawrence Whitaker watching me when I went into the hardware store.”
Joshua’s muscles tightened. “Did he say anything? Do anything?”
Charity shook her head. “No, it was just eerie. He ran when he saw me. I don’t know why he’d be watching me.”
“Because that whole family is up to no good. If you see him again, call me. He may not be responsible for the arson at your house, but I still don’t trust him.”
“How did it go for you today?” She leaned back in the seat.
He filled her in on his conversation with Lucinda.
“So Ron Whitaker was cheating on his wife? No wonder Andrea was mad. As a child, she idolized her father.”
“He didn’t just do it once, either. It was a habit. Anyway, before I left, Lucinda told me that there was a rumor going around town that Roberta had enough of Ron’s philandering ways. She’d met someone and was going to leave Ron.”
Charity’s eyes widened. “Did she give you a name?”
Joshua nodded. “Sam Childs. I plan on going to see him after lunch.”
Joshua wanted to speak with him, just to rule out any information that could help the investigation. He felt like it was probably a wild goose chase, but he didn’t want to leave any stone unturned.
“I can’t wait to hear what he has to say.”
“Speaking of lunch, any preference?”
“You mean between the Have a Nice Day Café, the pharmacy, and the barbecue restaurant?” She smiled, a teasing tone in her voice.
“Hey now, there are a couple of other places on the outskirts of town. And we do have a few traffic lights here, so we’re not that small of a town.”
“You pick. I’m just along for the ride.”
Just then his radio crackled. It was the chief. “Our good friend Buddy Griffin is threatening to kill himself. Would you mind swinging by his place to talk him down from the ledge, so to speak?”
“Of course. I’ll be right there.” He hung up and looked apologetically at Charity. “I’m going to need a rain check on that lunch.”
“Don’t worry about taking me home. How about if I wait in the car while you handle the call? I know time is of the essence.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all.”
Joshua turned on his lights and accelerated toward Buddy’s house. When Joshua pulled up, he spotted the man pacing near his dogs with a gun in his hands. “Whatever you do, stay in the car,” Joshua told Charity.
She stared at Buddy in the distance. “No problem.”
Joshua made sure his own gun was easily accessible as he climbed from the car. He slowly, carefully approached Buddy, noting the rotten scent of swamp mixed with the stench of manure that filled the air. Buddy’s house could easily be condemned; the conditions were practically squalid.
“Why don’t you put your gun down?” Joshua called.
“Don’t worry—I won’t use it on you.” Buddy spit on the ground and continued pacing.
“I don’t want you using it on anyone.”
Buddy shook his head and continued pacing. “I’m not gonna use it on anyone. I’m just so tired. I can’t catch a break, from my lousy ex-wife, who turned my daughter against me, to my good-for-nothing girlfriend. I have nothing to live for anymore.”
The man must want a reason to hope. Otherwise, why would he have called the police to report what he was about to do? People did strange things in moments of desperation. Joshua had seen it again and again.
Joshua’s gaze fell on the dogs. “You have your animals. They depend on you.”
The dogs were wound up, barking as if they knew something bad might happen. They each raced along the fence, teeth bared and hair raised.
A smile cracked Buddy’s face, but his eyes still looked sad. “You think they love me. You know what they really love? They love the fact that I feed them and give them water.”
“Love is still love.”
Buddy paused and chuckled—the sound lingering a little too long, to the point of feeling uncomfortable. “You know, I used to want to be an animal trainer, back when I was a teenager. I even went to school out in California for a while. I bet you wouldn’t guess that, would you?”
“I had no idea.”
“People make animal training sound so normal, so decent. But you know what it really is? You know how to get animals to do what you want them to do? You deprive them of food until they become obedient. That doesn’t sound very humane, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Then, when they’re at their weakest, they’ll do what you want. Then you reward them. They learn obedience must happen in order for their needs to be met. I’ve never thought that was the way to earn love, though.”
“Now that you mention it, it does sound kind of harsh.”
“My dogs are all I have. I never kept anything from them. But if they got desperate, I’d be the first thing they ate. Hunger and desperation can make all of us—even dogs—do terrible things.” He squeezed the skin between his eyes.
“Did you do something terrible, Buddy?”
“No, I’ve tried to do all the right things. I have nothing to show for it. People think I’m terrible, and I haven’t done a thing to harm anyone. That’s what I’m tired of. I’m ready to end all of this.”
“There are better ways, Buddy. You’re giving other people too much power in your life.”
“I’m out of options.”
“Have you been drinking again, Buddy?”
“It’s the only thing that makes me feel better.”
“Put the gun down, Buddy.” Just then, Joshua’s phone beeped. He ignored it, not wanting to break up the conversation. Answering now would set back any progress they’d made.
“I don’t want to.” The man started pacing again.
“Don’t do something you regret.”
“I won’t be able to regret anything if I’m dead.” He raised his gun in the air as if going into battle.
“I don’t know about that. There are people you can talk to, though. I can help you find support.”
He p
aused and instantly seemed to sober. “I didn’t have anything to do with that girl, Officer.”
“I know.”
His eyes brightened. “You believe me?”
“I have no reason not to.”
Joshua’s phone rang again. He saw it was the police chief.
“Please, put the gun down,” he said again.
Buddy stared at him and finally handed Joshua his gun. His shoulders slumped and sadness crossed his gaze. “Maybe today’s not my day to go.”
With a sigh of relief, Joshua helped Buddy get settled back inside his house. He called Buddy’s brother who lived about thirty minutes away, and the man promised to come right over. As soon as Joshua had the chance, he stepped outside and called the chief back.
“Guess who just called? The state lab.”
“And?”
“The DNA on the hat that Charity found outside her house? It belongs to Andrea Whitaker. This investigation is officially open again.”
CHAPTER 28
Charity sat in the police cruiser, the window cracked to allow some air to come in. She shivered as Joshua’s conversation with Buddy floated into the car.
She’d never thought about the way animals were trained, but hearing the explanation that came from Buddy’s lips made it sound awful and inhumane. Food deprivation until the animals did whatever you wanted? It seemed barbaric.
She stared at the dogs in the kennels across the property. Dalmatians. Was it a coincidence that Buddy raised the same kind of dog that Andrea had loved?
Fanning her face with her hand, she scooted farther down in the seat. Instead of dwelling on those dogs, she tried to process what Joshua had told her earlier.
Ron Whitaker had multiple affairs.
Mrs. Whitaker was possibly leaving her husband for someone else.
It was true: nothing was as perfect as it seemed. Nothing.
People used their delusions to justify remaining in bad situations. People used their false perceptions to feed untruths, which led them to do horrible things to other people. It made murder seem okay, made hurting people seem acceptable, or made stealing seem like the right thing.
Charity preferred to live without any misconceptions. But was that possible? Maybe that concept was a delusion in itself.
Gone by Dark (Carolina Moon Book 2) Page 16
