Skin Walk (A Lacey Fitzpatrick and Sam Firecloud Mystery Book 2)

by Melissa Bowersock

  She pulled the papers out.

  “When did you do that?” Sam asked. Lacey couldn’t tell if he were unhappy with her, simply surprised, or angry. His voice seemed devoid of emotion.

  She thought back. The days seemed to stretch into weeks. “Thursday,” she said. “When I went to the store. I picked it up on Friday, but then I actually forgot about it until just a bit ago.”

  She leafed through the few pages. “It’s not much; most of it is pretty inconsequential. But the very first entry, back in 1992, is what really surprised me.” Taking in a deep breath, she looked around at the others briefly, then read the file entry out loud.

  When she finished, everything was silent, as if the house itself held its breath. She looked from Roxanne to Gabe to Sam. “Any of you know anything about this?”

  Roxanne’s eyes were wide, but she shook her head. “No. I never heard anything.”

  “Me, neither,” Sam said. “I was fourteen, probably not paying too much attention to whispered conversations of the adults.”

  Gabe heaved a sigh. “I heard about it.”

  All eyes swiveled to him. “I was seventeen,” he said, “and, you know, dating some. I remember hearing about it when he was first arrested. But then it just seemed to… melt away. Nothing happened. Life went on. I don’t think I ever thought about it after that.”

  “Did you ever hear who the girl was?” Lacey asked.

  Gabe shook his head. “I don’t think any of the adults were willing to say. My guess is they wanted to protect her. Keep people from asking her about it. So, no, I never knew. And as I said, it just became a non-issue very quickly. I had other things to think about, like graduating from high school, getting a job. You know.”

  Lacey nodded. She certainly understood about families wanting to keep a lid on information like this. She’d seen similar things before, parents protecting children, whole families closing up ranks around a criminal in their midst. It wasn’t unusual.

  “I honestly don’t know if this has anything to do with your cousin’s death, but I just have a gut feeling that it might.” She turned to Sam. “I think we need to pursue it.”

  He sat, silent and thoughtful, drumming his fingers on the table. “What do you have in mind?” he asked finally.

  “Remember when we talked to Lou? I said I felt she was hiding something, especially when you asked her if anyone might have had a grudge against him.” She pulled in a deep breath. “I’d like to go see her again, ask her about this.” She tapped the papers.

  Sam considered that. Please, Lacey thought, please don’t get balled up in the shame of this, in the cover-up. So many people had a knee-jerk reaction to rumors of a sexual predator in the family: not my family; not my relative. She knew this was a difficult thing to face. And yet Sam had already come to terms with the fact that his family had a witch in its ranks. Was this really worse?

  Sam abruptly sat back in his chair. “Okay,” he said. He nodded to Lacey, agreeing but not necessarily happy about it. “I guess we have to follow all the trails to see where they lead. This just seems like a can of worms.”

  “I know,” Lacey said quickly. “I understand that. If we had any better idea, any better direction to go in, I would certainly put this on a back burner, but the fact is that we don’t have any other direction to go. It’s this or nothing.”

  ~~~

  TWELVE

  Not surprisingly, no one was in a hurry to follow through. Lacey helped Roxanne clean up the kitchen while Sam and Gabe went to check out the truck. The boys returned, full of energy and stories about their overnight adventure, and Lacey took her phone out back to check messages and return a couple of calls. The air was still cool but the sun was warm. It was hard to imagine the incoming storm Gabe mentioned when she hadn’t seen a single cloud since she’d been here.

  Finally, at mid-morning, Sam found her. “Ready to go?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Let me get my purse,” she said. She went down the hall and grabbed her bag, pulling out her car keys. She thought about throwing on her gun, but decided against it. When she returned to the front room, she tossed Sam the keys, then stuck the police report into her purse.

  They drove to Lou’s in silence. Lacey thought about reassuring Sam, or shoring up her position on this, but finally decided to let it be. He had agreed, whether he was totally convinced or not. It was enough.

  Sam parked the car and led the way to the door. He knocked; Lacey stood back behind him. Neither spoke.

  The door opened a few inches, then wider.

  “Hi,” Lou said, a lilt of surprise in her voice. “Come on in.” She stood back to allow them entry. As soon as Sam was in, he gave her a quick hug.

  “Hi, Lou. How you doing today?”

  “Fine, fine,” she said. “Hi, Lacey. Good to see you again.”

  “Yes, hi. You, too,” Lacey said. You won’t be, she thought, once we start talking.

  “Come on in,” Lou said. “Have a seat.” While Sam and Lacey were settling on the couch, Lou called down the hall. “Amanda. Come see who’s here.”

  A door opened down the hall. Sam and Lacey glanced at each other. When Lacey looked back at the entrance to the hall, she saw a beautiful teenager coming toward them.

  “Uncle Sam!” the girl squealed. She hurried to Sam and hugged him happily when he stood up to greet her.

  “Hi, Mandy,” he said. “How are you?”

  “I’m great,” she said.

  “You look good,” he said. “I want you to meet my friend, Lacey Fitzpatrick. Lacey, this is Amanda, Lou’s youngest.”

  “Hello,” Lacey said, offering her hand. “Nice to meet you.” She couldn’t help but notice the vibrant loveliness of youth. Amanda was slender and athletic, her high cheekbones and warm copper skin as flawless as a model’s. She had glossy black hair that shimmered down to her waist.

  “Hi,” Amanda said, shaking hands quickly. She immediately turned back to Sam. “Mom said you were in town. Are you staying a while?”

  “Oh, maybe a couple more days,” he said. “Then we have to head back to L.A.”

  “Do you want anything to drink?” Lou called from the kitchen.

  “No, thanks,” Sam said.

  “Maybe just a glass of water?” Lacey asked. She took her seat again, and was dismayed when Amanda made herself comfortable in the chair across from Sam. They couldn’t ask Lou about Harlan’s sexual proclivities in front of his daughter. Even if she did know anything, Lou wouldn’t be eager to elaborate with Amanda there. Of that, Lacey was sure.

  “So you graduate in May?” Sam asked Amanda.

  “Yeah, thank God. I’ll be so glad to get out of school.”

  “Got a job lined up?” he asked. “Or you going to college?”

  “Ugh, no,” Amanda said. “I’m sick of school. I don’t have a job yet, but I’ll find one.”

  Lacey kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t for her to lecture a seventeen-year-old on the relationship between education and finances. If Amanda thought she was going to find a lucrative job with only a high school education, so be it.

  Lou brought Lacey’s water and handed it to her, then sat in the other chair. Lacey smiled her thanks.

  Sam apparently also decided not to argue with Amanda. “How’s Vanessa?” he asked instead.

  “Oh, she’s fine.” Amanda waved a careless hand in the general direction of Flagstaff.

  “Heard you had a little get-together last night,” Lou said.

  “Yeah, we did,” Sam said. “Sorry you weren’t there. We had a good group, lots of fun. Lots of food and horseshoes, you know?”

  Lou nodded. She’d probably attended a number of similar parties while she was married to Harlan, Lacey thought.

  “Felicity called and invited me,” Lou said, “but… you know.”

  “Yeah. I know,” Sam said.

  An uncomfortable silence filled the room. What now, Lacey thought. Ask Amanda to leave? How were they going to get to the main subject of th
eir visit?

  A distant blast of music sounded from down the hall. Amanda immediately jumped up and whirled that way. “That’s my phone,” she said, and hurried down the hall.

  Lacey relaxed only slightly. This was better, but the teenager could return at any minute.

  “Do your kids have cell phones?’ Lou asked Sam. “I swear, the stupid things rule their lives.”

  Sam smiled grimly. “I know what you mean, but no, my kids don’t have them—yet. Daniel is twelve and Kenzie’s only eight, so they’re a little young yet. I’m hoping they can go a few more years before they beg for an electronic leash. I don’t even turn mine on half the time.”

  “I’ve got one, but I never use it,” Lou said. “It makes me crazy when I see people driving while on the phone. I just want to yell at them.”

  “Shut up and drive?” Sam said, repeating an oft-said complaint.

  “Exactly.” Lou sat back and looked from Sam to Lacey. “So what are you two up to today?”

  Lacey froze. Should they go for it? Take a chance that Amanda would stay in her room? That Lou would be receptive to their query? She fingered the corner of the paper in her purse.

  “Well,” Sam said, “we’re actually here to ask you—”

  “Mom? Can I borrow the car? I’m meeting Courtney for lunch.” Amanda burst from her room, phone and wallet in hand, and headed unerringly toward her mother’s purse on the kitchen counter. Without waiting for approval, she dug the keys out.

  “It needs gas,” Lou said, “so fill it up before you bring it back.”

  Amanda huffed an exasperated breath. “Man,” she complained, “it seems like it always needs gas.”

  “It probably wouldn’t if you didn’t go out joy riding all the time,” Lou observed.

  Amanda rolled her eyes at her mother, but then came to say goodbye. “Bye, Uncle Sam. Nice to see you.” She didn’t wait for him to rise but gave him a quick hug where he sat.

  “Bye, Amanda. Good seeing you, too.”

  She turned and waved a hand at Lacey. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You, too,” Lacey said.

  “Don’t forget, you’ve got that paper due tomorrow,” Lou cautioned.

  “Ugh,” Amanda said. “Don’t remind me.”

  “Be back by dinner!” But Amanda was already out the door. In just a moment, Lacey heard a car start up, then roar down the driveway.

  “Kids,” Lou grumbled.

  Sam muffled a laugh. “I’m guessing the idea of being an empty-nester has some appeal,” he joked.

  “Oh, yeah,” Lou admitted. She sighed. “They drive you crazy, that’s for sure.” She glanced at Lacey. “You got any kids?”

  “Um, no, I don’t,” she said. “Never been married. Except maybe to my job.” She shrugged.

  “Speaking of which,” Sam said. He nudged Lacey and tilted his head at the paper sticking out of her purse. She pulled it out and handed it to him.

  He cleared his throat. “Remember when we were here on Thursday?” he asked. “Talking about the death being suspicious, and wondering if anyone had had a grudge against him?”

  Lou nodded slowly and angled her head slightly away. Lacey could almost see the walls going up.

  “Just to be very thorough in our investigation,” Sam continued, “we requested police records. Most of the reports were unimportant, just minor infractions that you’re probably aware of, but there was something from 1992 that surprised us.” He paused, and Lacey wondered if he would say more. Instead, he simply handed the paper to Lou. “Look at the last entry,” he said.

  Lou hesitated to touch the paper, eyeing it as if it were a distasteful bug, but finally took it and scanned down the page. As she read, Lacey watched her face closely. Lou’s eyes moved across the lines of text, and Lacey saw her jaw go slack with surprise, then tighten up again. She stared at the paper a little longer, then sat up in her chair and shoved the paper back at Sam.

  “So?” she asked with confident disregard. “That was a long time ago.”

  “Yes, it was,” Sam agreed. “Did you know about it?”

  Lou’s eyes shifted uncomfortable. “Um, yes. After the fact.”

  “Were you guys married then? I honestly don’t remember.”

  She stared down at her lap and turned the wide silver bracelet on her arm. Lacey remembered her doing that before. “No. We were engaged, but not married. We got married in March of 93.”

  “Was it a… recurring problem?”

  Lou’s head snapped up. “No. It was a fluke, a stupid mistake. He was a good man, a good father.” She motioned toward the paper. “Do you see any other incidents in that report?”

  “No,” Sam conceded. “There were no more like that.”

  “Well.” Lou pushed back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. “So what does this have to do with now?”

  Lacey leaned forward. “Do you know who the girl was?”

  Lou transferred her scowl from Sam to Lacey. “She changed her story. It says so right there.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “So it never happened.”

  Both Sam and Lacey sat still in the silence, returning Lou’s nervous but defiant stare.

  “Do you believe that?” Sam asked quietly.

  “Yes!” She tightened her arms across her chest, holding herself in. “She changed her story. It never happened.”

  “If it never happened,” Lacey said softly, “why are you so angry?”

  Lou launched out of her chair, her bulky body moving with surprising speed. “Why are you doing this?” she cried as she paced the room. “Why are you digging this up now? What difference does it make?”

  “What if it was true?” Lacey asked. She spoke softly, calmly, as if soothing a child. “What if someone had carried a grudge all these years? And finally decided to do something about it? If your husband was actually murdered, wouldn’t you want justice to be done? Wouldn’t you want his spirit to find peace and harmony in the truth?”

  The last question stopped Lou in her tracks. She glared at them, still angry, then looked about the room. Her gaze rested on several photos on a sideboard against the far wall. Lacey glanced over. Photos of the girls, together and separately, photos of Lou with them. In the back, obscured by the frames in front, what looked like a wedding picture.

  Lou buried her face in her hands. She didn’t cry, didn’t make a sound, just shook her head slowly. Finally she exhaled heavily and eased down into her chair again.

  “He said he never intended… It just got out of hand. He said she came to him, flirting with him. They snuck out to one of the old hogans, but when he started taking her clothes off, she began to fight him. He said it had just… gone too far. He couldn’t stop.” Lou swiveled her stare back to Sam and Lacey. “She started it,” she said defiantly.

  “She was twelve,” Lacey said. “She was a child.” She wanted to ask how Lou would feel if it had been one of her girls—at twelve. But without speaking a word, she could see the answer in Lou’s eyes. Horror. Sadness. Despair.

  “Why did she change her story?” Lacey asked instead.

  Lou looked away. “I’m not sure. I think… the family just wanted it to go away. He said they convinced her to say it wasn’t true. That it would be better for all concerned. He apologized to her, said it would never happen again.” She looked at Lacey. “And it didn’t.”

  Lacey nodded. “All right. That’s good.” She leaned forward. “Who was the girl?”

  Lou bit her lip.

  “Sylvia.”

  ~~~

  THIRTEEN

  Both Sam and Lacey were silent as they drove away from Lou’s. Lacey’s brain was churning furiously, trying to see how this piece fit into the puzzle—if it did—based on what they knew. Sylvia, who was obviously female. Sylvia, who lived in the loose cluster of houses below the bluff, where the coyote tracks had turned into human footprints and then disappeared among the rocks. Sylvia, who had been present at the party Saturday night, b
ut had left before Sam heard the shots from Lacey’s gun.

  She tried an alternate tack. Sylvia, who had agreed to withdraw her complaint against her older, adult cousin. Sylvia, who had grown up, gotten married and had children of her own. Sylvia, who had apparently come to terms with the shattering incident of her past, at least enough to be a regular participant in family functions.

  But what did any of that mean? Lacey honestly didn’t know.

  She’d been so wrapped up in her own thoughts, she was jolted from them when Sam pulled her car into a restaurant parking lot and wheeled into a vacant space.

  “What are we doing?” she asked, looking around.

  “Getting lunch,” he said. He climbed out of the car and ambled toward the diner, not waiting for Lacey to catch up.

  She scrambled after him. Inside, the hostess was just grabbing two menus, and Sam motioned for Lacey to precede him to their booth. She slid onto the padded bench seat and set her purse—with one corner of the report peeking out of it—next to her.

  “What can I get you to drink?” the hostess asked.

  “Coffee,” Sam said.

  “Make it two, please,” Lacey added.

  The hostess moved away and Lacey opened the menu. She had no idea what time it was, but now that she was thinking about food, her stomach began clamoring. She checked her watch and saw it was almost one. No wonder.

  She decided quickly and closed her menu. Sam seemed in no hurry to talk about the revelations of the morning, perusing the menu carefully. When their server arrived with their cups of coffee, they both ordered, then sipped the hot brew.

  Sam sat back against the padded seat and stared at Lacey. “So?” he asked. “What do you think?”

  Lacey toyed with her cup. “I’m not sure. Nothing jumps out at me, no ah ha feeling, but I do think we’re on the right track. It just… feels right, even though I can’t give you a concrete reason why.”

  “It definitely alters the dynamics,” Sam said. “I’ve been realizing that I don’t ever remember any interaction between my cousin and Sylvia, nothing more than a hello or goodbye. We’ve got such a large family, that’s probably not unusual, but most everyone mixes pretty well. Now that I think back on it, those two seemed to have their own personal spheres, and they never—or very seldom—overlapped.”