“I just file the reports, ma’am.” I held up my hands as if to say not my job.
“Are you here about Debby?” asked the woman.
“Yes, she is,” said Mrs. Patterson, answering before I could.
The woman’s eyes darkened. “Did she take off again?”
“No, Fiona. Debby is here to stay now.”
“Hmmph,” said Fiona, glancing from Mrs. Patterson to me.
“Thanks again for your time,” I said, shaking Mrs. Patterson’s hand after realizing an introduction to her friend wasn’t forthcoming. I stepped through the open door and walked to my car, thinking about what I learned. It wasn’t much but at least I knew why Debby’s parents weren’t worried initially. Her mother seemed to think taking off without any word or contact was normal; so people who didn’t know Debby as well naturally sounded the alarm first. I had to concede my understanding of Mrs. Patterson’s inaction. Debby had already set a precedent for that sort of thing and they hadn’t gotten to the worrying stage yet. I wondered if the Pattersons ever once worried about Debby or were always so blasé about their daughter’s penchant for acting on whims.
Just as I was about to get into my car, I felt a hand on my arm and almost jumped. I whipped around, finding the woman in tennis whites barely a step behind me.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Fiona?”
“Yes, that’s right. Fiona Queller. I’m a friend of Margaret’s. You came here about Debby?”
“Yes.”
“From the police?”
“Yes.” Kind of.
“Ah.”
I frowned, waiting for Fiona to say something. When she didn’t, I prompted, “Is there something you wanted to tell me about…?”
Fiona cut in before I could finish. “I don’t believe it.”
“Don’t believe what?”
“I don’t know. I just… It’s not normal, is it? To suddenly take off and not tell anyone where you are for months?”
I held my palms upright and raised my eyebrows. “Her mother seemed to think it was okay.”
“Margaret has always indulged her daughter and her insistence on silliness. Debby has been away for ten years and she just pops up out of nowhere with no warning. That is not normal.”
“It’s not abnormal either,” I pointed out, even though I personally agreed with her.
“I don’t know what you people are doing. Ten years ago, you all practically gave up the moment an email turned up.”
“I wasn’t around ten years…”
Fiona spoke over me. “One interview for ten minutes and the case is closed? That’s odd, very odd.”
“We can’t keep a missing person case open when the missing person finally shows up.”
“That’s just the problem! Debby is still missing! I don’t know who showed up but it’s definitely not Debby. I don’t care what her mom says, she’s not Debby.” She folded her arms across her chest and stared at me, almost daring me to defy her.
“Have you met Debby since she came back?” I asked.
Fiona seemed surprised by my question. “I’ve met someone calling herself Debby. My friends threw a little welcome home surprise party for Debby and of course, I was there. I know that anyone would have changed over ten years, not only in their personalities but also their hairstyles and appearances, but they don’t become different people. I’m telling you exactly what I told that girl, whoever she is. She’s not Debby!”
“You told her that at the party?”
“Not in front of everyone. I didn’t want to embarrass Margaret or Rod so I took the girl to one side and I told her I was damn sure she was a fake. Then I demanded to know what her game was. She said she didn’t know what I was talking about.”
“Did you tell the Pattersons?”
Fiona sighed. “I tried to but they didn’t want to hear any of it. I don’t know what you’re doing here, since I heard the case was closed but I hope you can look deeper into it.”
I didn’t want to give Fiona any false hope but I knew this was the kind of break Garrett was looking for. I had to speak to Fiona. As a long-time family friend, she would undoubtedly have knowledge that others didn’t, not to mention her own suspicions. Something must have sparked her memory besides Debby’s appearance. “I’m just helping to tie up a few loose ends but I…”
“Fiona?” Mrs. Patterson appeared in the doorway. Her pantsuit was replaced by tennis whites similar to Fiona’s.
“I must go now but perhaps you and I can talk later at my home?” Fiona pressed a card into my hand. I turned it over, reading her name, address and phone number. “I want to know what the girl wants from my good friends. If she’s planning on scamming them, I want to make sure it stops. Come and see me at my house later after our game. Around eight? Promise me?”
“I promise,” I said and she quickly walked back to the house where Mrs. Patterson waited, a quizzical look on her face. The door was shut on me a moment later.
I got into the car, wondering what just happened and uncertain of what to do next. I had a mother who welcomed her daughter home, and a family friend who was heavily suspicious. I didn’t want to risk Mrs. Patterson getting annoyed with me, or overstay my welcome, so with Fiona unavailable until later, I turned the car around and headed back to the office.
Only Solomon was there when I arrived. “Hi,” I said, sticking my head around the door of his enclosed cubicle. It was situated away from the shared office space the PIs used. Why he didn’t move upstairs into one of the more spacious offices I didn’t know but I suspected it had something to do with staying in close proximity to me. Or maybe he just didn’t need so much space. “What are you up to?”
“Thinking up plans for world peace.” A smile played on his lips.
“Good for you. Are you hungry?”
“Very. Where have you been all day?”
“Chasing ghosts, maybe. I don’t know.”
“Garrett’s cold case?”
“Mmm.”
“Any merit?”
“Something’s not quite right. I’ll know more when I’ve tracked down some people from her life ten years ago.”
“Did you try her employer?”
“They moved on from their previous address so not yet. Do you know what vlogging is?” I asked, recalling my earlier conversation with the unhelpful receptionist.
“Flogging?”
“No. Vlogging.”
“No idea.”
“It’s a mystery to me too. Are you busy?”
“No, just finishing some paperwork. I’m all yours.”
“Then let’s get something to eat and you can help me work out what to do next.”
“Help you?” Solomon raised his eyebrows in a rare flash of surprise. “You don’t ask for help very often.”
“Just humoring my boss,” I said and he laughed. He pushed back his chair, stood up and rounded the table. He placed his hands on my arms, rubbing them slightly and I couldn’t help pressing my head against his chest and wrapping my arms around him. He was warm and firm and very comforting. Plus, he smelled great.
“Why don’t I take your mind off things?” he whispered in my ear.
A smile sprang up and my heart thudded. “Here? In the office?” I replied in mock shock.
“What better place to discuss the case I’m not paying you to solve,” he whispered back.
I pushed off him, laughing. “Very funny! I thought you were being…” I searched for a word, something more professional than horny and gave up.
“Plenty of time for that,” Solomon cut in. “I’ll order dinner and we can eat in the boardroom so long as you don’t mind slumming it? I’ve had meetings all day and I’m beat.”
“No problem. I have a meeting with Fiona Queller at eight anyway, and if I go home, I won’t want to go out again.” With that, I yawned and my stomach rumbled.
“Chinese food?”
“Order the entire menu,” I told him.
&
nbsp; ~
I pushed back the plate and patted my stomach. We’d spent the past half hour discussing my steps today and I recounted my conversation with Fiona and Mrs. Patterson several times.
“I can tell you what I would do,” said Solomon, “but I’d rather hear what you would do.”
“Hmm.” I thought for a moment. “Tomorrow, I’ll get started on some background checks into Debby Patterson and try and track down her landlord, her former employer and the two friends she appeared so close to. What would you do?”
“The same. I’d also get my hands on the emails and postcards that were sent and find something older than ten years ago to match them to.”
“To see if the handwriting is the same? Smart! I saw some notepads in Debby’s old bedroom. They might have her handwriting in them.” I stopped and thought about the look on Mrs. Patterson’s face when she saw Fiona speaking to me. “I’m not sure Mrs. Patterson will let me inside again. I implied that the case would be wrapped up right after we spoke.”
“Tell her you made a mistake or something else came up. Or ask the friend.”
“Fiona?” I glanced at my watch. “She should be home soon. I can ask her.”
“Do you have your car?”
“In the lot downstairs. I parked next to you.”
“I’ll follow you.”
We drove in tandem, and I went first in my VW while Solomon followed in his black SUV. I wasn’t familiar with Fiona’s address, but when I turned a corner, I realized I was on a road I knew. Harbridge was a nice neighborhood, a pleasant mix of couples and families of all ages, and this road was no exception. Its crime rate was low except for the recent epidemic of burglaries, something which made my stomach drop when I saw several police cars parked at odd angles, their lights flashing. Worse still, there was an ambulance parked at the curb.
I pulled over and got out, looking around for a house number or at least, someone I knew. Behind me, I heard Solomon slamming his car door shut and the subsequent footsteps told me he was approaching me fast.
“I see Garrett,” I told him, standing on my tiptoes for a better view. Garrett was beside his motor pool vehicle, talking to a uniformed officer. “I’m going to find out what’s going on.”
“What number is Fiona’s house?” asked Solomon.
“Three hundred twelve.”
“That’s not good,” said Solomon, raising his hand to point. I followed the direction of his finger, my stomach dropping even further when I saw the numbers to the side of the door where a policeman stood. I looked around for Garrett and found him, and this time, I caught his eye. He waved us over.
“What happened?” I asked him once he finished instructing the officer to tape off the area.
“You just driving through?” he wanted to know.
“No, I’m interviewing the woman who lives there.” I pointed to the house. “What happened?”
“Looks like a home invasion gone bad.”
“That’s awful. Is Fiona okay?” I craned my head towards the ambulance, wondering if she walked right into the ongoing burglary. She must have been terrified.
“I’m not sure who is inside but if Fiona is the homeowner, then no, she’s not okay. She’s been murdered.”
Chapter Four
“Yes, that’s Fiona,” I said, sighing as I looked at the photo of the woman I’d met only a few hours before. I may not have known her well but her face was very fresh in my memory, not least because I was expecting to see her again so soon. I never imagined I’d see her dead face on Garrett’s phone screen. Garrett tucked his phone into his pocket and I tried to blink away the sight of the dead woman. Apparently, without her husband on scene, I was their best candidate for providing a positive identification. I didn’t need to ask for proof of death. The hole in her head, a literal head shot, was testament to that.
“We still need to get an official identification from a close relative,” said Garrett. “I sent uniforms to pick up the husband at his office.”
“Yes, naturally. I barely knew her,” I told him as Solomon’s hand tightened around mine. His reassurance was welcome. “I only met her a few hours ago.”
“While investigating a case?” Garrett glanced toward Solomon, a mix of suspicion and annoyance on his face. “What are you involved in this time?”
“Actually, yes, it was in regards to a case but it‘s your cold case,” I told him.
Garrett frowned and blinked. “I don’t follow.”
“I went to visit Mrs. Patterson and Fiona was there. They were playing tennis together. Fiona and I only spoke for a few minutes but she said she wanted to meet here later. I think she might have had some information about Debby Patterson. She was adamant that the Debby who returned is not the same Debby that went away.”
“Shit.” Garrett ran a hand through his hair and gulped. “I thought we were dealing with a burglary gone wrong but this could change everything.”
Someone shouted his name and he excused himself, crossing over to the uniformed officer now exiting the house. They conferred for a few minutes before Garrett walked back. “It’s got the hallmarks of a robbery. A few things got trashed, and pictures were moved like the perp was looking for a safe. We’re not sure yet if money or credit cards are missing. The victim’s purse was open.”
“This could be a horrible coincidence,” I pointed out.
“Or someone was trying to cover their tracks,” said Solomon. He glanced at the house before looking back at Garrett. “Are you going to check on this Debby woman’s alibi?”
“Definitely,” said Garrett. “Plus, I’ll find out if there are any obvious signs she’s been in the neighborhood recently. I’ll get a trace on those credit cards as soon as I know if they’re missing.”
“What about any other evidence?” I wondered. “Fingerprints? DNA?”
“Our forensic guys are already on that but I won’t know for a while. I appreciate the heads-up about the Debby Patterson connection but you might as well take off. There’s nothing you can do here.”
“Do you want me to stay on the case?” I asked.
Garrett hesitated, then nodded. “Be careful,” he warned. “This could all be about nothing but until we know for certain, stick with Debby. There’s a strong chance that it’s unrelated, owing to the large number of burglaries in the area recently but the connection still has me worried. Keep me in the loop.”
I assured my brother I would and Solomon and I headed back to our cars. As we drove away, I pondered the strange coincidence of Fiona’s death just as I had arranged to meet her. Of course, it could have been something so simple as a home invasion, interrupted by Fiona at an inopportune moment, causing the thief to panic and shoot her. Even as I thought about it, it didn’t sit right in my gut. What kind of thief takes a gun if they were only going to steal cash and cards? Unless there was something far more valuable they wanted? Something that hadn’t been discovered as missing yet? Garrett mentioned the pictures had been moved so a thief could have been looking for a safe. What could Fiona have had that was so valuable to a thief they were willing to take her life for it?
What if there was nothing and the burglary were simply staged? It had happened before. That meant somebody must have had it in for Fiona and killed her for a specific reason, perhaps they even lay in wait for her to return from her tennis game. If they knew it was a regular appointment, they would know exactly when the house was empty and when to expect her return. I turned up the heat to push away the bone-chilling shiver that my last thought gave me.
Veering my thoughts away from a home invader to Debby, I had to agree with Garrett that the connection was worrisome. Fiona intended to share her suspicions with me but what could have been so terrible about what she would say that she had to be silenced? Surely the worst thing was what Fiona already told me. Debby wasn’t Debby, according to her, and she suspected whomever the woman was, she might have been trying to scam the Pattersons in some nefarious way. Assuming that were true, did the im
postor need Fiona out of the way so her scam could be completed? Yet, if Fiona were faced with a gun, wouldn’t she say that someone else knew? It would be a reasonable assumption that if the killer knew she had already told someone, the connection would immediately be made between the cases, rendering her murder pointless and unnecessary.
Something didn’t seem right about that either. It was very public and shocking, not just a way to silence a person, although the home invasion aspect could explain the murder as nothing more than a freak tragedy. Could that be what it truly was? A freaky, horrible coincidence?
By the time we reached home, I was starting to expand the plan Solomon and I discussed. With Fiona unable to help me with whatever she thought she knew, I needed to find out a lot more about Debby. I had to know everything about her life from ten years ago. I had to learn what her former colleagues and friends had to say about her and what they thought of her strange disappearance. I wanted to track down her old boyfriends, not that the Pattersons mentioned any, although I didn’t ask. All the people that could tell me about Debby before her disappearance would certainly add to the conflicting information Mrs. Patterson and Fiona had already told me. It would be a lot of work to track them all down but now I was intrigued. How could a mother claim her daughter as her own while a close family friend insisted that wasn’t the case? Out of the two people who knew her, both assumed opposite sides in the case.
That led to other important considerations: where could I find Debby now? And how could I get her to talk to me?
I found a parking space just one house down from ours and slid right in. Solomon drove past me and parked at the end of the street, jogging back to meet me on the steps to the house.
“I miss my driveway,” I told him.
“Do you miss the crazy dog from next door?”
I smiled, thinking about my neighbor’s hearing dog. It had an amazing ability to break into my house despite its delightful countenance. It was hard to be angry at anything so adorable. “Kind of,” I said, making a note to drop by Aiden’s house and visit them both. Plus, it would give me a chance to walk through my house. It had an alarm and all, but without anyone living there, I was relying on Aiden’s offer to keep an eye on it for me until I decided what to do with the place. That decision was taking some time for me to determine. I didn’t want to sell it. The pretty, yellow bungalow was my dream house but practically, real estate was such a good investment. I wasn’t sure I wanted to rent it out either. I had to make a decision soon, since Solomon and I agreed to live in his larger and better equipped home for now.
Ready, Aim, Under Fire (Lexi Graves Mysteries, 10) Page 4
