by Debra Webb
Fear that she’d started something she would regret abruptly clasped around Dana’s chest. She should just let the past go.
But then she would never know.
“Here we are.”
Spence braked to a stop in the parking lot. Dana stared at the long, drab brick building that housed the police and fire departments. Despite the air-conditioning in the car, perspiration dampened her skin as her heart thumped harder and harder.
“Chief Gerard is expecting us.”
Dana heard the words Spence said, but the larger part of her attention was focused on the official lettering sprawled across the glass entry she’d last entered sixteen years ago.
“Dana.”
Dana gave herself a mental shake and reached for the car door. “Right.” Chief Gerard had struggled through the town’s first homicide case. Her sister’s case.
Sherry’s and Joanna’s case.
Three victims…three unsolved murders within a week in a town small enough that everyone knew everyone else. Three young girls killed by someone they apparently knew since there were no signs of struggle. How was it possible that no one admitted to having the first clue who that someone was?
Stop. Dana slammed the car door and squared her shoulders. She had to stop allowing her thoughts to go down that path. Focus. She had to focus and let this man—she glanced at William Spencer—do his job. He was the expert here…she was just the desperate client.
And maybe, just maybe, she would learn that she wasn’t the one who’d killed her own sister…and two of her best friends.
SPENCE WATCHED Dana Hall closely as they waited for Chief Gerard to finish an afternoon meeting that had, according to his secretary, run over. Dana’s emotions appeared to vacillate between high anxiety and extreme dread. The anxiousness was to be expected. The dread, however, surprised him. This was a woman who had clearly suffered for years due to not knowing what really happened to her sister. She’d sought the Colby Agency’s help in finding the truth. Despite her insistence that she needed to learn what happened sixteen years ago, she appeared to fear learning that truth.
Spence recognized the symptoms. The woman knew something she wasn’t sharing. In his experience with the parents of abused or neglected children, he’d seen those very symptoms time and time again. The burden of guilt weighed on most, even when their instincts urged them to protect themselves. No one wanted to face the reality of what they had done much less the consequences related to the act or acts.
But what had Dana Hall done besides find herself a victim of the most heinous of crimes?
“I realize,” Spence began, “this is difficult.”
Dana Hall jumped as if he’d startled her from her thoughts. “I’m sorry.” She cleared her throat. “What did you say?”
Seriously distracted. To some degree that was to be expected. “This is difficult, I know,” he reiterated. “Revisiting a painful past is never easy. But it’s my job to ensure that it goes as smoothly as possible.”
She wet her lips. Until then, he hadn’t noticed how full they were. Incredibly full and rich in color. She blinked, as if clearing her weary eyes of any emotion that might give away her true feelings. “I can handle it.” She glanced around the small office. “I have to.”
Was she attempting to convince him or herself?
“Afternoon, folks.” Chief Gerard hustled into the office, coffee cup in one hand, a stack of files and papers in the other. “I apologize for keeping you waiting.” He shook his head as he rounded his desk. “Sometimes things get a little hairy even in a small town.”
Spence stood. “William Spencer. The Colby Agency,” he said as he shook hands with the chief. “You may remember Dana Hall.”
Dana remained seated, her gaze locked on to the man in charge of local law enforcement.
“Gracious, young lady.” The chief beamed a broad smile. “I haven’t seen you in…” His expression fell and sadness appeared as if he’d only just remembered the circumstances of their last encounter.
Dana cleared her throat. “Chief Gerard,” she said, her voice faltering.
Obviously shaken, the chief indicated the chair Spence had vacated. “Have a seat, Mr. Spencer.” He lowered into the one behind his cluttered desk. “What can I do for you folks?”
This was the moment Spence should have felt guilty for not cluing the man in on the subject of the appointment. But Spence wanted to get his reaction to Dana’s sudden reappearance after nearly two decades. He’d definitely gotten one.
“We’re here,” Spence said, leveling his gaze on the chief’s, “to ask you a few questions about Donna Hall’s murder.”
Chief Gerard looked from Spence to Dana and back. “It’s been a long time.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Several of my deputies have, over the years, taken a look at the case hoping to find something new. No one has ever found anything. But I’m happy to be of any help if you’re set on looking for yourself.” He studied Spence a moment. “Your agency is looking into the case?”
That Gerard had blanked his expression told Spence that like all officers of the law, he didn’t appreciate a private investigator coming into his territory, nosing around into a case he hadn’t been able to solve with his own resources.
Understandable. “That’s correct,” Spence confirmed. “My agency is aware that your department did everything possible with the technology available at the time.” Spence gave a succinct nod. “There are resources available now that might help in solving the case. We’d like to see what we can learn, with your guidance and expertise, of course.” Making friends was a far better strategy than drawing battle lines right off the bat.
That seemed to appease Gerard. He relaxed visibly. “I’ll pull the files and have them available for you to look at later this afternoon. Around five sound all right to you?”
“Absolutely. That would be very helpful.” Spence didn’t want to wait for the files. Having to come back to see them gave the chief time to select what would be shared and what wouldn’t. Only one way to try and head that off. “Perhaps you could share your thoughts on the case. Anything specific you remember that, in looking back, might have been more suspicious than it seemed at the time?” The chief couldn’t very well leave out anything he mentioned before he’d had time to think better of it.
Gerard propped his forearms on his desk and clasped his fingers. He stared at his hands for a bit before speaking. “The people in this town are good folks. We’d never had so much as an attempted murder before…that. When the first two girls were found.” He took a deep, burdened breath. “Sherry and Joanna. We were all devastated. Who would do such a thing?” His head moved side to side slow and stiff. “Go into a little girl’s room and kill her in her sleep. The calls came in at practically the same time. At first we thought we had some sort of lethal virus. Both girls,” he said and glanced at Dana, “were tucked under the covers, eyes closed just like they were sleeping.”
He heaved a heavy breath. “Then Dana,” he said looking directly at Spence, “and her sister went missing from their beds. We couldn’t believe it. How could it happen again? We didn’t have the first suspect. No evidence to go on. Nothing. Thank God you were still alive when we found you,” he said to Dana.
Dana shifted in her chair as if the weight of his gaze as well as his words were too much for her to bear. She managed a faint nod.
“According to my research,” Spence interrupted the silence that went on a little too long, “the girls weren’t sexually assaulted. They were apparently suffocated with something while they slept.”
Gerard nodded slowly. “The strangest part was that they appeared to have been attacked by a person or persons who didn’t inspire the slightest fear or hesitation. Neither Joanna’s nor Sherry’s home had been broken into. Dana and her sister were lying on blankets from their own beds in the woods behind their home. There was no evidence of a struggle, none of any sort, not even a suspicious fiber. There was a pillow at the scene in the woods. Acc
ording to Mrs. Hall, the pillow had come from Dana’s bed.” Gerard hesitated. “A pillow was the one consistent item at each of the scenes.”
Dana jerked as if startled.
“No footprints, other than those of the victims?” Spence prodded. “No indication anyone else had been at the scene?”
“Nothing,” Gerard confirmed. “It was as if they’d just stopped breathing or…been suffocated by an invisible assailant. The inconsistency was Donna’s head injury. The autopsy results suggested she’d been struck on the head.”
“Any speculation on the head injury? Was that a contributing factor in her death?” Spence prodded. Dana hadn’t mentioned the head injury.
“She could have fallen and hit her head before the attack,” Gerard offered. “There’s no way to know.”
Dana shot to her feet. “I…excuse me.” She rushed from the room.
Spence resisted the urge to go after her. To see that she was okay. But the chief’s reaction to her abrupt departure was something he needed to analyze first.
“That poor girl,” the man muttered. “Waking up alive and finding her sister dead was just about more than she could take. She wasn’t the same after that. You know her daddy killed himself barely six months later.”
Who would be the same after that? “I can only imagine,” Spence agreed.
“She was suffering from exposure. Shock. She didn’t speak for days. And then her mind just blocked whatever she might have heard or seen. Her mother tried everything. Even some kind of regression therapy. But the child reacted so adversely to the treatment that Delores, her mother, was afraid to try a second time. She didn’t want to risk the only child they had left. They’d already lost one.”
“No one close to the girls was considered a suspect? Nothing they had in common that might have proven a viable link to their deaths?”
Another sad shake of his head. “Four good girls with no enemies. This is a small town, Mr. Spencer. There wasn’t a soul I knew then or now—and I personally know every citizen in Brighton—that would have hurt those girls.”
“Yet,” Spence countered, “someone killed three of them.”
OUTSIDE, DANA STRUGGLED to catch her breath. Her heart pounded so hard that the effort was impossible.
How could she have thought for even a minute that she could do this? She had to have lost her mind.
Every word had sent another surge of adrenaline roaring through her veins.
No signs of forced entry or a struggle…just stopped breathing. Suffocated by an invisible assailant…
Dana closed her eyes and tried her level best to banish the images that accompanied the words echoing inside her head.
“Dana? Dana Hall?”
Her eyes snapped open and her attention jerked to the left.
“That is you.” A big burly man stepped into her personal space and crushed her in an embrace. “Lord, girl, how long has it been?”
The scent of his familiar cologne and freshly chopped wood assaulted her nostrils. Dana’s head was spinning like a top when he released her.
“The last time I talked to your mama she said you was living in the big city. I’ll bet she’s real…”
Dana’s brain wouldn’t absorb the rest of what the man said. Every fiber of her being was focused on his face…his massive frame. Carlton Bellomy. Her former neighbor. He’d lived across the street from her childhood home for as long as she could remember.
He’d found her in the woods…picked her up and carried her all the way back to her house, leaving another searcher with Donna’s body.
Dana shuddered. She tried to slow the quaking but that wasn’t happening.
“You all right, Dana?”
She blinked, told herself to respond, but it wasn’t happening.
When Spence stepped into her line of vision, she sucked in a ragged breath. He looked from her to the man still hovering over her.
“William Spencer,” he said as he thrust out his hand.
Mr. Bellomy, his expression cluttered with new worry, glanced from Dana to Spence. “Carlton Bellomy.” He pumped Spence’s hand.
“I’m a friend of Ms. Hall’s,” Spence explained. “We’re in for a short visit from Chicago.”
Bellomy’s wide smile slid back into place. “Why I’ve known this girl and her family since the day she was born. Was their neighbor until they moved away.” He made a pained sound in his throat. “After the tragedy.”
“Mr. Bellomy,” Dana squeaked out, “lived…right across the street.”
“Still do,” Bellomy said. “I sort of keep an eye on the place. Tack down a loose shingle now and then, keep the grass cut. Stuff like that. I check in with her mama three or four times a year.” He set his hands on his hips. “Has your mama finally decided to sell that place? Are you here to get the process started?”
Dana shook her head. Her mother didn’t know she was here. She would be extremely distressed if she heard.
“I’m certain we’ll see you again while we’re here,” Spence offered.
“Why sure you will,” Bellomy insisted. “I expect you two to come to dinner. Why not tonight?” He looked from Spence to Dana and back. “Unless you already have plans. The diner’s ’bout the only place around here to get a decent meal, and it’s nothing to compare with the wife’s.”
Spence looked to Dana for the right answer. “That would be nice, Mr. Bellomy,” she managed to squeeze out. Nice was nowhere near the proper description, but she couldn’t be rude to the man. Not after what he’d done for her—and her mother—all these years. They hadn’t wanted to sell the home that had been in her father’s family for three generations. Her mother paid the property taxes, insurance and utilities while Mr. Bellomy took care of everything else. He’d done so for sixteen years. The least she could do was accept his kind invitation.
“Right fine,” Bellomy said with a nod. “I’ll let the wife know, and we’ll expect you folks around six-thirty if that’ll work.”
Spence said something else…yes and maybe goodbye. Dana wasn’t sure if she said goodbye or not as Mr. Bellomy walked away. She could only watch the big bear of a man stride toward his truck. The same one he’d had sixteen years ago.
He would tell his wife Dana was back in town. His wife would tell her friends. By sundown everyone would know.
The only survivor of the town’s tragic murders was back.
And just like sixteen years ago, it was obvious that she still wasn’t right.
That was another thing Dana hadn’t worked up the courage to tell the Colby Agency.
Most folks in her hometown thought that night in the woods when her sister was murdered had stolen her sanity.
Poor, crazy little Dana.
She wouldn’t ever be right again.
Chapter Four
Spence stared into the dusk outside the motel window. The case file had given him crime scene details and backgrounds on the victims but nothing truly useful in the way of suspects.
All three victims had grown up in the area. All three were thirteen. There was no trace evidence that connected anyone to the scenes other than the victims. A single hair belonging to Dana Hall had been discovered on the clothing of one of the first two victims. That had been easily dismissed considering the victim had spent the night at the Hall home the night before her death. The four had friends, teachers and neighbors in common. But not one of those common denominators appeared to have had a motive for committing the crimes. The girls were simply murdered for no apparent reason.
But Spence understood that wasn’t the case. No one was murdered without reason. He’d considered the victims’ families and found nothing documented in the way of enemies or recent problems, financial or otherwise. From the reports taken at the time of the murders, each one represented the perfect family. No readily detectable skeletons in the closet. Nothing.
There had to be something the investigation had missed. The fact of the matter was that small-town murder investigations rarely looked v
ery hard at friends and neighbors. Everyone knew everyone else, just as Chief Gerard had said, and it was unthinkable that anyone would commit such a heinous crime. Therefore no suspects.
But Spence didn’t know any of these people. Each one was as much a suspect as the other in his opinion. And from what he’d learned so far there was only one way to go about solving this mystery.
Start at the beginning. Nudge the players and watch for the reactions.
He gathered his notepad and pen and headed for the room next door. Dana’s room. She had blocked the memories of the events that night. But the memories were there. His goal was to cautiously prod those memories loose from the layers of fear and disbelief that had them buried.
Cooperation was key.
To cooperate she had to get past her fear.
Just like the kids he had worked with for the county. Guide them away from the fear and toward the light of truth.
They still had more than half an hour before they were to arrive at the Bellomy’s. Time enough to topple that first domino.
Spence rapped on the door of the room next to his. A moment later, probably after visually identifying who had knocked, the door opened.
Dana Hall looked tired and pale. Interaction with the chief and her former neighbor, Mr. Bellomy, had shaken her. They’d barely arrived in town. His investigation had scarcely gotten out of the gate. If she wanted the truth, she was going to have to rally the necessary courage to go the distance and face her past.
Her lack of cooperation was the one primary stumbling block to getting the job done.
“I’d like to go over a few details with you.” He indicated the pad and pen. “We have a little time before dinner with the Bellomys.”
She looked past him, then at the pad he held. “I’ve told you everything I know twice already.”
There was some truth to that. She had gone over all she claimed to remember at the agency and then again en route. But there was much more she didn’t want to remember, and that was what he needed.
