To Savannah’s surprise Mrs. Matthews nodded and took her husband’s arm. “All right. We’ll go on home, but you’ll call us the moment you hear anything,” she said.
It was a command not a question, but Savannah decided to furnish a gracious answer anyway. “Of course we will. And try not to worry.”
The parents walked away, Mrs. Matthews still clinging to her husband’s arm. But the younger sister lagged behind several yards.
Taking her cue, Savannah stepped up to her. “Yes?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
“My sister’s a brat,” Louise whispered. “A stupid, spoiled brat. She sleeps with everybody and runs away all the time. I think something bad’s happened to her. And she probably deserved it.”
Mrs. Matthews glanced over her shoulder and gave her younger daughter a warning look. Savannah dropped back and allowed the teenager to catch up with her parents.
Hm-m-m, Savannah thought as she watched the little family walk away. Maybe she needed to revise her opinion of Sister Louise. Perhaps she wasn’t an ugly duckling after all. Considering the intelligent gleam in her eye and the smile on her face when she had expressed her opinion that her sister might be in trouble, Savannah decided that Little Louise might be more rat than duck.
Once again Savannah attempted to go upstairs and question Francie, but, just as before, she was intercepted in the gallery. This time it was Catherine Whitestone-Villa who demanded her attention.
Villa Rosa’s first lady came running up to her, her pale cheeks flushed as though she had raced all the way from the house on the hill. She had changed into a simple white-cotton sheath that complimented her slender figure and her blond hair was coiled into a bun at the back of her neck and held with a tortoiseshell comb.
But Catherine Villa looked tired. Apparently, it had been a long night for everyone.
“Have you found her yet?” the lady asked. “Please, tell me you have.”
“No, I’m sorry.” Savannah hated being the bearer of bad tidings—especially when she felt responsible for the news. This had happened on her watch . . . and that made it her responsibility.
Catherine passed her hand over her eyes and pressed her fingertips to her temples for a moment, as though she had a headache. “I was afraid of that,” she said. “I just saw her parents and sister leaving. They looked so upset. Did you tell them everything?”
“Almost. I didn’t mention the blood on the bed. Since it wasn’t human, I thought I would keep it from them for a while. They’re worried enough already.”
Catherine sighed. “I just feel so sorry for them. I’m a mother myself, and I can’t imagine how I’d feel if one of my boys was missing. Are the police here?”
Savannah nodded. “Detective Coulter has been here all night, as we have. And two more members of my agency arrived this morning to help us. How about your employees? Are they still searching?”
“Of course. And we won’t tell them to stop until she’s found. But what if she isn’t even on our property? After all, she’s a teenage girl. Maybe she left with a boy or just ran away.”
“It could be something like that,” Savannah said. “It could be any one of a hundred things. We’ll just have to wait and see.” She glanced around. “Where is Mr. Villa this morning? I haven’t seen him since last night’s dinner.”
“Anthony is working,” Catherine replied, a note of resentment in her voice. “With harvest coming and his campaign gearing up, he’s working day and night. I don’t want him bothered by this unfortunate circumstance. So, if you just deal with me directly, Savannah, I’d be grateful.”
“Certainly.” Savannah gave a tight smile. “We ladies have to look out for our menfolk, don’t we?”
“Far more than they realize. Without us they’re really quite helpless.”
Savannah thought about the men in her life, their courage, resourcefulness, and that endearing streak of protectiveness that they all showed toward the people they loved. And Savannah considered herself fortunate to be one of those privileged to be inside their circles of protection.
“Helpless?” she said thoughtfully. “I suppose some are. But I certainly wouldn’t say most.”
Catherine gave a delicate, aristocratic sniff. “Well, I suppose in your line of work you meet more macho types. The males I know can’t function without a woman dictating their every move.”
Savannah looked into her eyes and saw a coldness that made her feel a bit sorry for those men within Catherine’s circle. “Please excuse me, Mrs. Villa, I really must get busy.”
“Of course. I don’t want to keep you from your work. I—”
The front door opened, and Dirk hurried into the gallery, followed by Ryan and John. Savannah could tell from the looks on their faces that something was wrong.
“What is it?” she asked. “What did you find?”
She rushed over to Dirk and met them in the middle of the gallery. Dirk held out something that was wrapped loosely in a couple of tissues. Carefully she folded back the corners and looked inside. A tangled mess of crushed, gray plastic and wires confused her eyes at first. Then she realized what she was seeing. “A phone, a cell phone?”
“We found it at the far end of the parking lot,” Ryan said.
“It appears someone ran it down there on the tarmac with a vehicle,” John added.
Savannah nodded. “Yeah, it’s as flat as any roadkill I’ve ever seen. That’s for sure.”
Catherine elbowed her way between them and looked at the mangled equipment in Dirk’s hand. “So, what does that mean?” she asked. “Do you think it has anything to do with the Matthews girl?”
Savannah thought of what the family had said about Mrs. Matthews speaking to her daughter last evening on the cell phone . . . their last contract with her. “Yes,” she said, “I’m afraid it might.”
Once again their conversation was interrupted by new arrivals. But this time it was Tammy who burst through the door. She had a wild, frightened look on her face, as though she was being chased by a pack of rabid coyotes.
Again Savannah felt the queasiness she frequently got in her stomach just before she was going to hear bad news. It was similar to the sensation of being aboard a jet that had just hit an air pocket.
“We . . . we found . . . her. Barbie Matthews,” Tammy gasped, bending double and sucking large gulps of air. Sweat dripped from her face onto the oak plank floor.
Catherine Villa gave a small, shuddering cry, then said, “Is she . . . is she all right?”
“No.” Tammy grabbed her sides and grimaced. Savannah could tell she was in a lot of pain from having sprinted heaven-only-knew how far. She could also predict her assistant’s answer. Tammy was a pretty level-headed girl, and she wasn’t easily upset or frightened.
“Calm down, sweetie.” Savannah reached for her friend and pulled her over to a bench against the wall. “Sit down and catch your breath.”
Savannah could hear her own pulse pounding in her ears as she waited for what seemed like forever for Tammy to collect herself.
Finally, Tammy looked up at them, and tears filled her eyes. “No,” she said. “Barbie’s not all right. While we were out jogging . . . along the cliffs by the river . . . we found her. She’s hanging halfway down a forty-foot embankment. She’s not moving. I’m pretty sure she’s dead.”
Savannah was pretty sure that Barbie Matthews was dead, too. They had been standing on the edge of the cliff, looking down at her body, for several minutes, and the girl hadn’t stirred. Calling out her name had produced no response either.
Savannah hated tragic endings—especially when it involved a young person. As always in these circumstances she mentally rehearsed what she was going to say to the parents, and even though she didn’t like Mrs. Matthews very much, she wasn’t looking forward to giving her such terrible news.
Savannah had insisted that Catherine Villa stay behind, and John had volunteered to remain with her and calm her down. Tammy, Savannah, Dirk, and Ryan jumped in
to Savannah’s Mustang, and Tammy directed them to the spot, a little more than two miles from the complex. On the way they passed Tammy’s jogging buddies, a frightened group of wide-eyed beauties, running in the opposite direction, toward the winery’s center. Tammy had beaten them by several minutes.
Farther down the road, Tammy pointed out a copse of oak trees growing near the edge of a cliff, overlooking the Santa Rosita River. Savannah parked near the grove, and they all got out of the Mustang and hurried over to the cliff’s edge.
That’s when they had seen her, hanging about twenty feet below them, her clothing caught on a dried sage bush, growing out of the side of the embankment. She was facing downward, away from them, so they couldn’t see if her eyes were open or closed, but the only movement they observed was the fabric of her torn dress rippling in the soft morning breeze.
“I called Search and Rescue,” Ryan said, replacing his cell phone in his jacket pocket. He took another look at the still figure dangling from the cliff’s face. “I guess I should have told them it will be more of a search and recovery.”
“She could still be alive,” Tammy said hopefully. “Maybe she’s just unconscious.”
“Yeah, and the Dodgers could win the World Series next year,” Dirk said.
Savannah smacked him on the shoulder. “Hey, it never hurts to hold a good thought.”
“All the positive thinking in the world ain’t gonna help that kid,” Dirk said. “I guess she meant to end it all, and looks like she did . . . even though she didn’t make it all the way to the bottom.”
“What makes you so sure it was suicide?” Ryan asked. “Maybe someone pushed her over.”
Dirk looked around the dry, dusty ground. “Don’t see no drag marks. No scuffle marks.”
“But the girls and I were running and walking all over this area,” Tammy said, “before one of them spotted the body. I’m afraid we would have messed up any tracks that were here.”
“Did you run any farther down the road?” Savannah asked.
“No, this is as far as we came. And I told them not to touch anything or do anything except run straight back to the center. Then I took off running. I couldn’t wait for them to catch up.”
“You did good, Tam.”
Savannah listened as Dirk called Dr. Liu and informed her of their discovery. Her team would be arriving soon, along with the Search and Rescue crew.
Walking along the edge of the precipice, Savannah looked for something . . . anything . . . and found nothing. Then she saw it: a large, round impression in the dirt, nearly two feet across.
The indentation was almost directly over the place where Barbara Matthews was hanging on the cliff face below.
She tossed her key ring to Tammy. “Get my binoculars,” she said. “They’re in that black case in my trunk.”
While Tammy did as she was told, Dirk and Ryan joined Savannah at the cliff and peered along with her over the edge.
“What you see?” Dirk asked, squinting down at the body.
“What is it, Savannah?” Ryan strained to see as well.
“I’m not sure. Just a second.”
Tammy returned with the binoculars, and Savannah used them to study a large object at the base of the cliff.
“That’s what I thought,” she said, handing the binoculars to Dirk. “Check out that big rock down there at the bottom. See it? The one right by the water’s edge.”
Dirk adjusted the focus on the binoculars, then nodded. “Yeah, okay, I see it. So what? There’s a bunch of rocks down there. A million of ’em.”
He passed the binoculars to Ryan, who also took a look.
“Can you see that circle of dirt stuck on one side?” Savannah asked Ryan.
“Yes, I see it there on the left.”
Savannah pointed to the impression in the ground. “It’s about the same size as that,” she said. “There was a big rain a couple of nights ago. That’s why the river is so swollen right now. The rain should have washed the dirt off that stone, like it has all the other rocks down there. That stone has fallen since the rains.”
“Or somebody pushed it over the edge,” Tammy added.
“Exactly.”
“Why do you suppose they would shove a big heavy rock like that one over the edge?” Dirk said.
They thought for a moment; it came to them all at once.
“Somebody threw her over,” Savannah said, echoing what the others were thinking. “And they intended for her body to go all the way to the bottom, maybe even be swept away by the river.”
“But she got caught on that bush,” Dirk said. “Bummer.”
“Yes,” Ryan said, “and they pushed the rock over the edge hoping it would dislodge her body.”
They all stood there quietly, thinking, the only sound that of the river flowing below.
“Gross,” Tammy said softly.
“Yeah,” Savannah replied. “Really gross.”
Chapter 13
The county fire department’s Search and Rescue team wasted no time rappelling down the face of the cliff to reach their patient. But once there, it took only a moment for them to confirm everyone’s worst suspicions: Barbara Matthews was now within reach, but far beyond help.
The Moonlight Magnolia gang stood by and watched as the litter, with her body strapped to it, was lifted from below.
“I just feel so sick,” Savannah said.
“Man, I know what you mean,” Dirk replied. He pulled his hand out his jeans pocket and rubbed his stomach. “That donut thing that Fluff Head brought us didn’t sit too well without some real breakfast to go with it.”
“That Tammy brought us? Those donuts were mine, and if the one you ate gave you an upset stomach, you deserve it. I’m talking about this situation here, Mr. Sensitivity. I mean, the kid was a booger, but I hate it that this happened to her.”
“Yeah, especially while you were on duty, so to speak.”
Savannah shot him poisoned look. “That’s strike two. Another comment like that, and I’m outta here.”
“No you’re not. You’re hanging out, just like I am, to see if she got shot, perforated, or mutilated. And there’s the lady who’s gonna tell us.”
He nodded toward a long white station wagon that was coming up the road, raising clouds of dust behind it. On the driver’s door was the official seal of the medical examiner.
“I’m never going to get Dr. Liu paid off at this rate,” Savannah said.
“Paid off?”
“Yeah. I keep bribing her with her boxes of Godiva chocolates in exchange for all these favors.”
Dirk glanced over at the litter with Barbie’s rigid body on it. The girl had been “setup” while bent double. “You don’t have to pay Dr. Liu to handle this one,” he said. “She has to look at all the ‘unnatural’ deaths, and this one definitely qualifies.”
Minutes later, they were all gathered in a circle around the stretcher while Jennifer Liu made her initial field inspection of the body.
“There’s no obvious cause of death,” she said “but I don’t want to undress her until I get her into the autopsy suite.”
“Then maybe she did jump, after all,” Dirk replied. “We were thinking that she was pushed, or maybe—”
“No, I don’t think she jumped.” Jennifer Liu reached down and with her fingertips gently brushed the girl’s hair back from her face. “Not unless she jumped while trying to escape from the person who had her.”
Savannah looked into Jennifer’s dark eyes and saw that even the jaded doctor who had performed hundreds of autopsies was touched by this one. They all were affected emotionally when it was a kid.
“What do you mean?” Savannah asked. “How do you know someone had her?”
“Her hands were bound with tape,” Jennifer said, “and her mouth, too.”
“How do you know?” Tammy stepped closer, then leaned over studying the victim’s lips and wrists.
“See there, across her face . . . that red rectangle around
her mouth?”
They all nodded in unison.
“There was a wide piece of tape over her mouth, and you can see where it ripped off some of the skin from her lips when it was pulled away.”
Savannah winced. “That must have hurt.”
“Actually, I don’t think it did. From the lack of bleeding, I suspect she was already dead when the tape was removed.”
“And how about her hands?” Ryan asked. “Were her bindings removed postmortem, too?”
“I don’t know for sure about that. I may be able to tell later.”
“But you do believe there was tape around her wrists, as well as over her mouth?” Savannah asked.
Jennifer nodded. “You can see bald areas there along the backs of her wrists where the hair was pulled out when they took it off.”
Savannah squatted beside the litter and looked closely. The doctor was right; the fine, blond fuzz on the girl’s arm did end abruptly in a straight line just above both wrists. And the flesh there was also irritated, like that around her mouth.
Dr. Liu delicately lifted the hem of the girl’s skirt and glanced beneath it. “Her underwear is still in place,” she said. “That’s a good sign . . . I guess.”
Those in the circle exchanged a few relieved glances. The situation was tragic already. It was a small blessing if the killer had not added sexual insult to injury.
“Okay, boys and girls,” Dr. Liu said, “you’re going to have to stand back now and let my assistants do their thing.”
The Magnolia gang moved out of the way as the crime-scene technicians took over, placing small sacks over each of the girl’s hands, then loading her into a body bag.
Savannah always got a bit of the chill when she saw one of those blue bags, the ones with locks on their zippers. Those were for situations that required extra security because the individuals had died under unusual circumstances. Every time she saw one of those bags being zipped closed and locked, Savannah whispered a quick prayer that she would never see anyone she loved being zipped into a body bag . . . especially a blue one.
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