Moment of Doubt

by Sara Gauldin

  I looked back at the interview room. This was my chance to find Genevieve, but Marge might have known something, too. I bit my lip as I considered my choice. Looking at the commander and Agent Brooks, I realized that I had to be a team player, and if I couldn’t be in the interview room, it was still possible I could help in another way. “Yeah, sure, let me grab my notebook.”

  Officer Miller nodded.

  “Can I use the conference room?” I asked Commander Jennings.

  “Sure, be my guest.” His eyes barely left the interview room.

  ***

  Officer Miller showed Marge Dixon into the conference room. Her face was familiar, but in my memory, she was a large, loud woman. Time changes things. I hadn’t seen her since I was a child. Now, a stout, medium-height woman with salt and pepper hair stood before me.

  “Well, lordy, you look just like your daddy.” Marge was still loud. She rushed toward me with too much enthusiasm and grabbed both my hands in greeting.

  I forced a smile. “That’s what I hear.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to drop in on you like this. I heard you were looking at one of my cases.”

  I nodded. “You did some P.I. work for Paul Myer. He had you investigate his wife.”

  “Yes, I did a little checking on Dana Yeaman. I know she was one of your little friends, but it was more of a favor, and I hoped I would find out she was a poster wife, you know, turn things around.”

  “But it didn’t work out,” I said.

  “Look, I didn’t expect to find what I did. But you have to understand, that report wasn’t meant for you. You need to leave that alone.”

  Frustration threatened to claim me. “Did my dad send you to convince me to quit the case?”

  “He called me, but not to put you off your case,” Marge said.

  “Oh?” I wanted to ask why, but I decided that I didn’t have time to dwell on things.

  “Well, here’s the thing, what’s going on around here could be dangerous. I know that the right people are already trying to put things right. This one isn’t on you, Avery.”

  “On me? The right people? Ah, you mean Jon Li and his little undercover operation. But I think he hit a snag with that.”

  “Jon… You met Agent Li. Is this room secure?”

  Marge knew too much, and now I wondered how she was wrapped up in all of this.

  “I can’t say.” That was the truth.

  “Look, I don’t want to say too much,” Marge said.

  “Then I will. This is what I see. The CIA is investigating a local business that has some questionable international technology habits. The place is inside the States, which makes me think they are trying to get around international buffers, so they are likely trying to cause some trouble. Oh, and the undercover agent is compromised or incompetent when he isn’t aware of a serial killer hunting based on the same business.”

  Marge opened and closed her mouth, trying to think of how to respond. She coughed twice. “Sorry, I said you look like your father, but you are your mother’s daughter.”

  I smiled despite myself. “It’s too bad she’s not around now. You worked with her, didn’t you?”

  Marge nodded. “She and I worked on several cases together. Ah, the stories I could tell… If they weren’t all classified.”

  “That’s too bad. I never got to know my mother in that context.” I wondered how much I would never know about my mother. Part of me envied this part of her life that I had never been a part of and that I could never know.

  “It is a shame.”

  “There is something I have to ask about.”

  Marge looked around the room, the whites of her eyes showing the strain. “I’ll answer what I can, but that that may be little or nothing.”

  “I thought my mother died in a car accident, but now I have learned that someone murdered her. Someone rammed her car to kill her.”

  Marge nodded. “Yes, that much is true.”

  “And I know that my dad and I moved away not long after. Was that because we weren’t safe?”

  Marge pursed her lips for a moment. “No, you weren’t safe here. I doubt your safe here even now.”

  I needed to find Genevieve, but to do that, I needed to pull all the facts apart and put them where they belong. “There is a prisoner in lockup who took out a hit on me.” I expected Marge to know what I was telling her. Instead, her eyes widened with shock.

  “Who is it?” she asked.

  “I’d rather not say. It’s an open investigation, and I’m lucky to be in the loop at all.” I reached up and felt the swollen lump on my head. Today wasn’t going well, and there was no sign things would improve.

  Marge looked at me as though she expected me to fall over dead at any moment. “Look, Avery. If somebody already made an attempt on your life, then I know you aren’t safe here.”

  I nodded. “I figured that part out on my own. It would be helpful if you could give me a hint about why that may be. All of this is too close to home. Jon Li is here for a reason, and I don’t think any of this mess is a coincidence.”

  Marge plopped down in a chair. “You know, I’m not sure any of this is my business to tell. Maybe you should talk to your father.”

  I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “He must have sent you here.”

  “Right. You’re right. Your mother traveled all over the world and took care of many problems. Her actions likely prevented many things from happening.”

  “You like to leave out the details.” I didn’t have time to tiptoe around this.

  “Right. Your mother died for the details, but she prevented the deaths of many. And she stopped some influences that would have caused so much more sorrow than you could imagine.”

  “Well, if she was tipping the proverbial scales so often, I could see how she would make enemies.”

  “Those enemies were powerful. She outsmarted them for so long. She was part of a special project that the CIA was working on. And part of that project involved disguise.”

  “Disguise? You mean like costumes?” I asked.

  “No, I mean silicone bodysuits that could trick your own family into believing that you were someone new.”

  The hair on the back of my neck stood up. “Is the program still active?”

  Marge nodded. “As far as I know, it is.”

  “The woman who was visiting my father was part of this program?” I was fishing.

  Marge looked down at her hands for a long moment. “Remember what I told you about not being able to tell you the details.”

  “I remember.” So, that was the secret my father was trying so hard to keep. The woman he was entertaining had never been my mother, returned from the grave. “She was impersonating her, my mother.”

  Marge nodded once.

  “She was trying to make someone believe my mother was still alive—she was using herself as bait.” I had lived that too many times.

  Marge scowled. “Avery, for your own good, I’d forget that.”

  I paused, my stomach churning. I wanted to know everything, but I knew that was unlikely. There was no time for all of that now. I needed Marge to tell me something that would let me connect the dots once and for all. “I have to go. My friend is in trouble. And if you can’t tell me anything to help stop this serial killer, then I need to find someone who can.”

  “The man in lock up, can you tell me his name?”

  “I shouldn’t but fine. He’s Gerald New.

  “Avery, do you know who he is?” Marge asked.

  “That’s why I’m asking you.” My frustration was growing.

  Marge reached for her purse. For a moment, I wondered if she would do something stupid. I tensed, waiting for a threat that never came. Instead, Marge pulled a notebook from her bag.

  “This was your mother’s. She was writing in it during her last few cases, the ones where she realized that some trouble she thought she ended elsewhere had followed her home. You know yourself that powerful people don’t appreciat
e those who get in their way.” She flipped open to a page midway through the book. “Here, Gerald New is the illegitimate son of Gregory Vance. Gregory had another son with his wife: Zachary Vance.”

  “So this is the same Zachary Vance that Dana dated, the one whose family ran Microcircuits Inc.?”

  “Right, and now there is a rivalry between the two tech companies, but it looks like Vibeworks was pulling ahead.”

  “Because they were taking bribes from foreign interests to swing elections...” It had to be political corruption. I shook my head.

  “It’s never pretty. Your mother got in their way. We could never prove it in court, but I know that the Vance family was involved somehow.”

  I took a deep breath. This was too much to process now. I had to find Genevieve; all these emotions would have to wait. I couldn’t save my mother, but maybe there was still a chance to save Genevieve. I flipped through the notebook desperate to find something.

  “What are you doing, Avery?” Marge looked at me like I was losing my mind.

  I didn’t answer her. All of this started in this world; I needed to find the common thread. A picture, hidden within the pages of the notebook slipped out and fell to the floor. Marge picked it up and handed it back to me. I looked at the photo, ready to put it back.

  “Your mother was sentimental I guess.”

  I took a moment to look at the picture. It showed a group of middle school-aged boys sitting on a boulder. The boys in the photo looked privileged in their matching camp attire. I flipped the photo over. “Camp Ottawa, 1992.”

  “This is that camp down by Cold Water Creek?” I asked. The hair on the back on my neck stood up.

  “Sure, I think it’s been closed for a while,” Marge said.

  “Yes, but I think some things were set into motion here that are still playing out.”

  The familiar faces smiled out from the photo. I knew who to talk to next.

  “I have to go.”

  “I know. But I have to tell you one more thing, about what happened to your mother. Something you won’t find in that book or any records.”

  I turned to Marge, afraid of what she would say.

  Chapter 29

  “They killed her for so little.” I clutched the small notebook that once belonged to my mother in my hands.

  “To the men who killed her, what she took from them was no insignificant thing,” Marge said.

  My mind raced. Everything I knew about my mother’s final six months of life was carefully crafted fiction. My father and I would never have been safe staying here, but now I knew why. “Dad shouldn’t have come here. I’m glad he’s heading home.”

  “Avery, until you are clear of this place, your dad isn’t going anywhere, especially with everything starting again.”

  “They won’t get away with it this time. But first I have to find the one who’s doing this.”

  “You will, Avery. I hope you have what you need now. Just promise me you’ll bring backup. Your mother will haunt me as it is.”

  “I’m sure she’s looking over us. I knew you two were close, but I never knew…”

  Marge nodded, blinking back a tear. “I’ll see if I can track down Jon Li and find out more.”

  “Thank you.” I hugged Marge goodbye, with a promise that I would contact her soon to let her know how everything worked out. I couldn’t help noticing she wore the same perfume as my mother.

  ***

  Bren Clancy had asked for a lawyer soon after I left. I wondered what Brooks had said that pushed her too far. Either way, I suspected her loyalty to the monster in shining armor was too well indoctrinated to break that easily. I headed down to lockup, anyway. I had a feeling I could find what I needed there. Gerald New sat on a bench in an isolation cell.

  I cleared my throat, trying to bury the raw contempt threatening to swallow me. He jumped as though it startled him.

  “I heard you were looking for me.” I glared at Gerald New through the bars.

  He scowled and squinted his eyes, as though he could barely see me. “You, who are you?”

  “It’s a shame when the man who tried to have you killed can’t even recognize you. Does taking a life mean so little to you?”

  Gerald laughed a wheezy sound that sounded more like pain than pleasure. “So you think I tried to have you killed?”

  “I think you paid for the hit. But I don’t think you came up with the plan. I think you owed a debt. And I was the payment.”

  “It was the cheapest way to pay. Looking at you, I doubt you’re worth what I owed.”

  I smiled. “Funny, I was just thinking you weren’t worth my time, either.”

  “Why are you here? Do you normally come to entertain the prisoners?” I could head Gerald New’s knees crack as he stood and walked to the heavy jail door separating him from freedom.

  “No, I wanted to talk to you about your brother, Zachary Vance.”

  He stared at me for a long moment. “Why?”

  I walked to the bars, maintaining just enough distance to keep out of his reach. “Well, it seems you two have a lot in common.”

  “Really? That’s unusual. I never saw a resemblance.”

  “No? Well, you both tried to kill me.”

  Mr. New laughed. “That spineless jellyfish tried to kill you? I thought he was only brave with his money.”

  “He saw his chance and he took it. He tried in person. You were the one who hired out the job.”

  “The details don’t matter, just the results.” Gerald smiled at me, revealing his yellowed teeth.

  “And now you’re both in jail where you belong. But that’s not why I came here. I want to talk about something that happened a long time ago.”

  He laughed. “Oh, you mean when she died.”

  I swallowed hard. I wanted to know how he was involved with my mother’s death, but this wasn’t the time. “Tell me about summer camp. The one down by the Cold Water Creek. Camp Ottawa.”

  “You’re a little young for that. It was closed before you came along.”

  I nodded. “I’m not sure when it closed. I never went, but I know you did.”

  “Yeah, so what? Is that a crime now, too?” He pulled his face to the bars, close enough that I could smell his foul breath.

  I laughed at his attempt to steer the conversation. “It might be. I know the campground was run by a charitable trust, but it was a shell company.” I touched my mother’s notebook, hidden in my pocket. It was all there, all the connections, but I needed a name.

  “I know nothing about that place. I wish I never went. It was full of a bunch of snobby brats. I hated it.”

  “So, it disappointed you when your father paid for you to go?” I asked.

  “Father is not how I would describe Gregory Vance.”

  “I understand. At the camp, you must have met many kids you never saw at school. Was there anybody there who was a little different from the rest?”

  “Sweetheart, I wasn’t like any of those kids. I think they were all broken from whatever screwed up, entitled lives they were coming from.”

  My mind spun. He knew the killer; I was sure of it. But I had to get him to give me the name without making him shut down. It was a gamble and I knew it.

  “Were there arts and crafts at the camp?” I asked.

  “I’m telling you, that place shut down a long time ago. Good riddance, it needed to close down. It wasn’t what you are thinking it was.” Gerald looked down and kicked at the bars.

  “You know what I think it was? I think it was a training camp. I think you would have learned tactical skills there and financial ones. They taught you things nobody should have to learn.”

  Gerald looked up at me and for a flicker of a second, I realized that what I saw in his eyes was fear. “Some things should stay in the past.”

  I swallowed the anxiety threatening to crush me. “I agree. And I need your help because some of what happened there is causing problems now. People are dying.”

&
nbsp; “People are always dying. Neither of us can stop that.”

  “I know, but this time you can. There was a boy at the camp who was very talented with wood carving. He would have been about your age. He was likely a loner, the other kids may have teased or bullied him.”

  “Teased or bullied? It would have been hard to tell. That place wasn’t exactly Club Med.”

  “No, but this guy would have invited the worst of it. Something about him may have seemed a little off. I bet he loved the woods around the camp, maybe he even liked to hide out there.”

  “Most of the guys wouldn’t go near those woods. They told too many ghost stories about what was there.”

  “Most, but not all,” I prompted him.

  “No, there was this one kid. I think his name was Spencer. He was a real freak, always trying to catch squirrels and rabbits. I don’t know what he did with them.”

  “Spencer who? Was he into art?”

  “Art, no, why? He was into pain. Have you ever heard of those people who cut themselves when they feel emotions?”

  “Yes, it’s an actual disorder,” I said.

  Gerald shivered. “Well, that Spencer guy was a real problem. Look, I can’t help you, but if you just step this way, you could help me out. At least one of us would solve a problem.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Dream on.”

  “Well, you could always stop by and see old Spencer. I hear he still lives around that area, owns a place out past the closed-up cannery a couple of miles down the road.”

  “I may just do that.” As soon as I leave here, I thought to myself.

  Chapter 30

  Commander Jennings was headed for his office when I found him. “We have to go back out to the crime scenes’ There’s a man who lives in the area past the cannery, he may be our killer! Commander Jennings looked shocked.

  “What are you talking about, Avery?” Jennings asked.

  “His name is Spencer…” I realized that I wasn’t sure of his full name. “He went to the camp there, he was a real oddball, hurt animals, and he still lives nearby.”