by Debra Webb
He was right. Anyone after Victoria’s granddaughter would have to step over Nicole’s dead body to accomplish their goal.
Even knowing that her best agents were on top of the situation, Victoria was terrified.
Chapter Nine
Brighton, Indiana
Chief Gerard and Mr. Bellomy stood in the middle of the defaced room. Spence had pulled loose the plywood covering the windows. The morning sun filled the space, highlighting the ugly images and threatening messages.
From the doorway, Spence watched the two men. Mr. Bellomy was clearly and genuinely stunned. He had not seen this before. According to Gerard, this vandalism had occurred the night after the Halls left Brighton. Gerard had gone through the motions of investigating the malicious act, and then he’d padlocked the room to prevent anyone who might sneak into the house from stumbling upon this ugliness. He’d boarded up the windows, even going so far as to nail the sashes shut. From that time forward, Mr. Hall had asked his neighbor to keep a close watch on the place.
“So,” Spence ventured as the chief moved toward the door, “you concluded that this was nothing more than an act of vandalism.”
Gerard didn’t make eye contact as he waited for Spence to step aside so that he could exit the room. There was more to this than a random act of mischief.
“The wife and I heard the talk,” Bellomy murmured, more to himself than to anyone else, “but we thought it was just foolishness.”
“Talk?” Spence looked from Bellomy to Gerard. “There was talk like this?” He jerked his head toward the room.
Bellomy wandered into the hall, apparently wanting to hear the chief’s answer as well.
Spence had sequestered Dana to the neighbor’s house. Mrs. Bellomy promised to make her hot tea and keep her away from this.
“You know how kids are,” Gerard protested. “When something terrible happens they liken it to some movie they watched. The Devil. You know.”
Who was this guy kidding? “Give me a break, Chief. This goes deeper than that.”
Gerard removed his cap and swept a hand over his balding head. “There was an incident or two before the murders.”
“What kind of incident?” Spence prompted.
“The month before the…murders,” Gerard began, “Patty Shepard’s cat went missing. When the child found it, the poor animal had been mutilated and hung by its neck from a tree.”
When the chief didn’t continue, Spence again prodded, “This relates to the murders how?”
Gerard shrugged. “Mr. and Mrs. Shepard insisted that Patty and Dana had been arguing at school. Evidently Dana thought Patty was making fun of her. Several other students contended that Dana promised to get even.”
“You think Dana mutilated the girl’s cat?” And the investigation at the time of the murders didn’t think that might be relevant? Admittedly, Spence didn’t want to believe Dana Hall was capable of such an act, but he couldn’t be certain. He’d known her a sum total of seventy-two hours. These people had known her, at the time, her entire life. If there was any chance whatsoever that she was capable of that kind of cruelty, she should have been viewed in a different light during the homicide investigation.
“Dana denied any knowledge of the act,” Gerard countered. “Her parents were mortified. There was no history of that kind of behavior.” He turned his hands palms up. “Like I said, kids jump to conclusions, overreact. Anyone could have killed that cat. But because Dana and Patty were on the outs, that’s the story that was told.”
Spence wasn’t dismissing this information so easily. “You said a couple of incidents.”
Gerard heaved a sigh. “Mr. Spencer, Dana Hall, like her sister and the other two girls who were murdered, was a good girl. Dana didn’t go around killing animals, and she certainly didn’t kill anybody.”
Spence considered his visit from Lorie Hamilton and the waitress Ginger’s comments. He wasn’t so sure it was as cut-and-dried as the chief wanted to portray.
“But there was another incident,” he pushed.
“Another girl’s dog went missing,” Gerard confessed. “The animal was never found.” He shook his head. “The dog could have run off, been picked up by someone passing through. We don’t even know that it was harmed in any way.”
“But Dana was somehow tied to the incident,” Spence suggested.
“The girl, Ginger Ellis, insisted that Dana threatened to get her for copying one of her papers and claiming the story was hers. Dana received an F on the paper. Her teacher accused her of plagiarism.”
Spence couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “And no one looked at this as relevant to her sister’s murder? Typically sisters jump to each other’s rescue. You didn’t find it questionable that Dana had these troubles and then her sister and friends end up murdered.”
Murder never occurred without motivation.
Never.
All one had to do was find the motivation, then the suspects stacked up like a deck of cards.
Gerard and Bellomy shared another of those secretive looks.
“I should get home and check on Dana,” Bellomy announced before pushing past Spence.
When the front door slammed behind Bellomy, Gerard moved in close to Spence.
“Now you listen to me, Mr. Spencer,” Gerard stated in warning. “The citizens of Brighton were torn to pieces by those murders. I’m not gonna watch you or anybody else stir that ugliness all over again. I’m telling you, the killer was a stranger. Somebody passing through. You won’t find any killers here. Let it go. Dana needs to put the past behind her and focus on the life she’s been blessed with.”
Spence resisted the urge to shake his head. “You know, Chief, I always thought a man of the law served justice, no matter the cost. Obviously I was wrong.”
Gerard’s glare bored into Spence’s. “You’re wrong, all right. Wrong to bring her back here. Folks don’t want to look at her. She reminds them too much of the past and the pain they’ve all fought hard to put behind them.”
With that, Gerard walked out.
Spence wandered up the stairs and checked the other rooms. The one Dana and her sister had shared was the only one defaced.
Outside he stood on the porch and surveyed the house across the street. He found it strange that the Bellomys lived right across the street but hadn’t been aware of the vandalism. Or that Mr. Hall had asked Mr. Bellomy to look after the place without mentioning what had happened.
Even more unbelievable was the chief’s dismissal of the incident. Had he even bothered to investigate the vandalism before sealing off the room?
Probably not. The chief had decided the case would go unsolved when no evidence of a stranger had been collected. Spence doubted he had seriously looked at anyone who knew the victims.
There had to be a reason.
As easy as it would be for Spence to presume the man simply hadn’t done his job, he didn’t get that kind of vibe from Chief Gerard. This was about covering up the truth. The question was, why?
Dana stepped out onto the porch across the street. Spence studied her movements as she folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the nearest post. Her gaze roved the house that had been her childhood home, eventually landing on him.
The answer to that one pivotal question, as well as several others, waited behind that mental wall she had erected.
He had to find a way around that wall.
Taking into account what he’d just learned, the truth might impact her world in a way she hadn’t anticipated before now.
The seemingly perfect life Dana had led as a child was, it seemed, nowhere near perfect.
Spence had to ask himself a couple of hard questions. Was Dana Hall shielding herself from the past because she was a murderer? If he breached that wall, would the memories he unleashed send her over an edge from which she might not be able to return?
He needed expert advice.
That was the thing about the Colby Agency. Victoria employed only
the best…from all walks of life.
Dr. Patrick O’Brien didn’t practice psychology anymore, but he was one of the agency’s top investigators. One call to him and Spence would know exactly where to go from here.
If Dana Hall were lucky, it wouldn’t be to a psych ward…or prison.
Chapter Ten
Dana didn’t understand any of this. Why would someone do this to her room? To her home? An ache had started behind her forehead, deep in her skull.
Was it possible that someone had hated her and Donna enough to do this and Dana couldn’t remember? That seemed impossible.
Did the person responsible for this have anything to do with Donna’s death? Or Sherry’s? Or Joanna’s?
The whole situation got more confusing with every passing hour.
Dana wandered down a step. She watched William Spencer pace back and forth on the porch across the street, his cell phone pressed to his ear. Was he calling to inquire how to handle the case now that other issues had come to light?
None of it made sense.
She descended the final step and walked slowly along the sidewalk until she reached the street.
Mr. and Mrs. Bellomy had wanted her to stay, not to go back across the street. But Dana couldn’t pretend anymore that she could ignore the past. She had to find the truth—whatever it was.
Then she would deal with the consequences.
This morning…seeing the horrible images and words someone had scrawled across her bedroom walls, Dana understood that she couldn’t be a coward anymore. It was past time to do this and do it right.
Her sister and her friends deserved to have their killer brought to justice.
No matter who the killer was.
Her cell phone vibrated. She jumped. Calm down. It was probably her mother again. If she kept avoiding her calls, she would definitely show up here. Dana slid two fingers into the pocket of her jeans and tugged out her cell phone.
Deep breath. Just do it. “Hello.”
“Dana, what’re you doing?”
Her mother. “Mom, I’m doing what I should have done years ago.”
“I’m on the verge of rushing to Brighton and bringing you home. You don’t—”
“Mom.” Dana took a moment, reminded herself that this was her mother and no matter how furious and frustrated she was, she had to remember that this was an act of love. “No matter what you do, I’m going to finish this. So just stop. I’m a grown woman. I don’t need your permission to do what I know in my heart I have to do.”
There were a lot of questions she could ask her mother, but that would only make bad matters worse. Her mother would refuse to discuss any of it. The less ammunition she gave her mother, the better.
The back and forth went on for a minute or two more before her mother gave up. Dana slid her phone back into her pocket.
The words on the wall of her old bedroom flashed in front of her eyes. She had to know what happened.
She had to.
Her gaze settled on William Spencer as he ended his call. He tucked the cell phone into his pocket and looked her way.
As they stood there, looking at each other from opposite sides of the street, she realized it was time. Everything about the past grew more confusing with each new discovery. She felt helpless and almost hopeless with the lack of understanding as to how it all tied together. Chief Gerard was no help at all.
If she felt that way, Spence had to be completely baffled. It was time she trusted someone with her nightmare scenario. Maybe it was a mistake. But it was a risk she was going to have to take.
He hadn’t walked away yet, and that was a lot more than she could say about anyone else in her life the past decade or so. Her “weirdness,” as they called it, usually sent people, particularly men, running.
Spence couldn’t help her if she didn’t cooperate.
She needed this to end…one way or another.
DANA MOVED DOWN THE STEPS of the Bellomy’s house, then headed in Spence’s direction.
He’d expected to have to go over there and basically drag her back over here. Not that he could blame her. Whatever had happened sixteen years ago, it had been personal and extremely twisted. No matter how the chief wanted to ignore what was right in front of his eyes, there was a major cover-up going on here.
And it started with Dana Hall.
O’Brien had suggested that Spence go for a firm tone, building the momentum until he felt compelled to let up. There was no way to know how far Spence could go until he’d begun. It was definitely time to get started.
“I guess,” Dana said as she climbed the steps to her childhood home, “I freaked out a little.”
Understandable. “Seeing your room defaced in such a manner would freak out most anyone.” She appeared calmer now, maybe even a little determined. Her shoulders were square, her gaze fully engaging his.
“You said you wanted to go to the place…” She glanced away. “Where they found…us.”
A major step in the right direction. “I believe that could be useful in helping you remember.”
“This way.”
Dana led the way behind the house and into the woods. The air was heavy with humidity, but not as bad as yesterday. The path through the woods was a little overgrown but unmistakable. The sun filtered through the trees, lighting their journey.
Spence could easily picture two thirteen-year-olds traipsing through the dark woods, blond hair flowing in the breeze. Had someone followed them that night? The woods stretched along the road on either side of the Hall home. The killer could have parked most anywhere and made his way to this path or directly to the stream from another route.
Spence heard the trickling of water well before the path opened into a clearing on the bank of the wide stream. Boulders were scattered about. Good for seating. It didn’t appear anyone had been here recently. There were no signs of a campfire or litter of any sort.
Was this place off-limits as Dana’s bedroom had been all these years? The chief couldn’t exactly put a padlock on the woods. But something had kept the curious from venturing here.
Then he saw the reason.
Crosses and angels. Clusters of what appeared to have been dried flowers and…was that garlic cloves? The primitive, weatherworn items hung from dozens of branches. He’d been so focused on the stream and the surrounding ground area that he hadn’t looked up at first.
Dana turned all the way around, taking in the bizarre decorations.
“Does any of this mean anything specific to you?” he asked, grasping at straws. “Was any of it here…before?”
She shook her head. “There was nothing like this here…before.” Her gaze collided with his. “I suppose it has something to do with the pictures drawn on the bedroom walls.”
No doubt. “Why don’t we sit?” He gestured to a couple of boulders. “Relax a minute, then we can go over what you remember from that night.”
Dana couldn’t block the trembling she felt inside. She worked hard not to let it show. Courage, strength…she needed both right now.
Deep breath. Another. Then another. Okay. Just get it over with.
“We lay right there.” She gestured to the patch of grass near the stream. “You could see the stars from there.” That was about the only spot where the tree branches didn’t touch. She shivered when she surveyed the hanging crosses and angels. Who would do this?
“You talked about driver’s licenses and—” Spence shrugged “—girl stuff.”
Dana nodded. “We always felt safe here. It was our place. Only our closest friends came here with us.”
“Like Joanna and Sherry.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me about Ginger Ellis.”
“Same grade as us. She made the cheerleading squad that year.” When Donna didn’t, she left off. Dana closed her eyes and banished the memory of how upset Donna had been.
“She accused you of being responsible for her missing dog.”
Dana tried to summon the m
emory, but it wouldn’t come. “I remember there was talk about it, but my parents kept me home from school for a few days after that. Donna came home upset. She’d gotten into a fight with some of Ginger’s friends. Taking up for me, I suppose.” Her sister had always taken up for Dana. Maybe because she was two minutes older. Being older, even if only by minutes, Donna had felt like the big sister.
“What about Patty Shepard? Do you recall the incident involving her cat? That was around the same time.”
That she remembered all too well. “Patty accused me of trying to start a fight with her over something she’d said.”
“What did she say?”
Dana met his eyes then. Her stomach clenched. “She said I was weird. You know, a freak or something.”
“You didn’t confront her about it?”
Dana shook her head resolutely. “I wasn’t the confrontational type. I never got into fights or arguments. I didn’t have to. No one seemed interested in bothering me. The rest of the kids pretty much left me alone until…right before the murders.”
Spence didn’t ask any more questions for a while. He seemed to mull over what she’d told him. Dana twisted her fingers together. If she could just slow the pounding in her chest. She knew how this all sounded. Like she was pretending nothing ever happened. But it was true. Until Patty Shepard and Ginger Ellis started those rumors, Dana had always been invisible. Or it had felt that way. Her sister was the one who made all the friends. She was the popular one. Not Dana.
“Just a few more questions.”
Dana searched his face, tried to read some hint of the conclusions he’d reached. Impossible. “All right.”
“You and your sister were twins. Identical twins.”
“Yes.”
“Did anyone ever get the two of you confused?”
Dana started to say no. Donna was the outgoing one. Miss Popular. She had a million friends. Dana was quiet. The bookworm. Though their physical features had been mirror images, their personalities were polar opposites. No one ever mixed them up…except once.
“Donna hated math class. She was certain she would fail seventh-grade math, so I took the class for her while she covered my English class.”
