by Helen Gray
“What is it?” he asked, reverting to gruffness.
Toni ignored the tone. "I know you're looking for a girl to question her about the fake Facebook page. I also know that a girl named Linda Fisher missed school yesterday. Have you found her?"
Buck ran a hand over his bristly jaw. "Butt out, Toni. Oh, fiddle, you deserve an answer," he said in an instant reversal. His face turned even grimmer as he stared at her. "Yes, it's Linda Fisher. Her parents have reported her missing."
Toni drew in a sharp breath.
The chief continued, somewhat begrudgingly. "It looks like she's the one who created the Facebook page, and now she's run away. When they catch up with her, she could be charged with identity theft, harassment, or cyber-bullying."
"Do you have any idea why she did it?"
Buck shook his head. "Who knows why adolescents do such things? The internet is their new social battleground. Sometimes they just want to stir up trouble among friends. Or they want to strike out at certain girls because they don't like them. Incidents of that sort are skyrocketing. In this case, based on what we've learned about the girl, she probably did it to impress the crowd she runs with."
Toni agreed. "Students with low self-esteem will go to extreme lengths to gain acceptance, and they often try to make themselves feel better by putting others down. But I still don't understand why the two students in my class are under attack. They aren't classmates of the murder victims and the missing girl anymore."
He raked a hand through his already rumpled hair. "Maybe that makes them easier targets. I wish I could be the one to interrogate the Fisher girl when they locate her. Everyone we've talked to says Shelby Warren had eyes only for Brant, and that he was the only boy she ever dated. He, on the other hand, made the rounds. Every time we do an interview, we come up with another girl he dated at least once."
"I wonder if any more girls are pregnant." Toni's mumbled comment was made more to herself than to him.
Buck’s eyes narrowed. "If so, that raises the level of jealousy."
Silence fell as they mulled the possibilities.
"Detective Allen traced the movements of both victims during that weekend," Buck continued at last. "According to Shelby's mother, she and her daughter had words because she wouldn't let Shelby go out with Brant that weekend. But she relented and gave her permission to go with him to that after school party. Shelby never came home. And the mother is eating herself alive about it."
"What about the boy?"
"His parents say he had a date Saturday night of that weekend. They thought it was with Shelby, but he apparently found a replacement when her mother wouldn't let Shelby go out. Whoever the other girl was, she's not coming forward. Detective Allen will keep asking around. Sooner or later he should find someone who saw them. Well, I need to get this stuff back to the station."
"Thanks for sharing." Toni had considered telling him that she and John planned to visit the crime scene tomorrow, but changed her mind. No need to bother him with such an insignificant detail.
As he drove away, Toni stood and watched until he disappeared from sight, and then remained there for several more moments, letting facts and faces flow through her mind. A question came to the forefront. What person received the kind of treatment referred to in Shelby’s slam book? The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that the geek was the missing girl—Linda.
Shivering from the cold, Toni returned to the present and hustled into the house.
That evening she called her mother and brought her up to date on Jeremy’s findings. She also told her about the threatening note, knowing that the boys would undoubtedly tell their grandparents if she didn’t.
Kyle arrived home in time for supper. Their routine had become predictable. Toni visualized them sitting down to meals like this over the years. But she cringed inwardly at the thought of some of the changes those years would bring. Having the boys grow up and leave home was so hard to visualize that she pushed the thought away.
Once everyone was seated at the table and Kyle had said the blessing, they focused on their ham and sweet potatoes.
“What did you do today besides teach school, cook this meal, and wrestle the rascals there?” Kyle indicated the boys with a head jerk while spreading butter on a roll.
Toni wrinkled her nose at him. “You’re nosy.”
“I’m interested.” He took a big bite of the bread.
She proceeded to tell him about her talk with the Brownville principal, followed by the visit with Mallory the cheerleader. “Then I stopped by and chatted with Buck. And he found out something very interesting.”
Kyle placed his roll on his plate, his attention locked on her.
“Delia had a life insurance policy on Mavis.”
Creases formed between his brows. “Do you mean Delia Cunningham?”
Toni nodded, studying his expression. “You know her?”
“I think so,” he said thoughtfully. “If she’s who I think she is, I haven’t seen her in years. She was in my class back in middle school, or maybe as late as junior high. Then her family moved to St. Louis. Her name was Delia Keaton.”
Her husband had a good memory. “Do you know when she returned to this area?”
“No, but I remember—it was in junior high—she and Ben Cunningham ate lunch together in the cafeteria all the time. In fact, I saw them together a lot now that I think about it. She must have returned here right after finishing high school, if she finished, and married him.”
“That sounds logical.”
“Ben has worked several places around here,” he continued slowly, tapping his fingers on the table. “I think he has trouble keeping jobs. If I’m not mistaken, they have a son who’s been in some trouble. Yes, that’s right. He was arrested along with some more young juveniles running a meth lab.”
“If he was arrested, Buck will know about it, but I think I’ll send him a text anyhow. It’s probably irrelevant, but details can prove important. Oh,” she continued, suddenly remembering her plan. “John is going to go with me to look at that crime scene after school tomorrow.”
Kyle’s gaze narrowed. “You be careful.”
Toni frowned. “There’s nothing to fear. It’s just the place where those horrible murders happened. I want to see it in the daylight, get a better picture of the whole thing in my mind.”
He inhaled deeply. “Just be careful. Okay?”
“Okay,” she agreed meekly.
After clearing the table and loading the dishwasher, Toni texted Buck.
*
Friday morning during third hour, Toni’s classroom phone rang. It was Buck.
“I talked to the Brownville Chief of Police,” he said without preliminaries. “He listened when I told him about your observations, the threatening note left at your house, and your conviction that Roddy’s not their killer. He admits he’s not so certain now, but he still has to confer with his detective.”
She experienced a range of emotions. Relief that the man hadn’t closed his mind completely. Satisfaction that they respected her input. Fear for the safety of her boys.
“He’s been running down people and getting some answers,” Buck continued. “So far as he can determine, there was no murder for hire. Brant’s cousin and Anderson have clashed in the past, and the cousin saw an opportunity to make trouble for an old nemesis.”
“So Anderson is innocent, and Mallory is guilty,” she mused.
“Anderson’s not guilty of murdering those kids. He was in jail that night. But he’s facing a number of other charges unrelated to this case. As for the Mallory gal, the chief plans to pursue that matter.”
She pumped a fist. “Thanks for letting me know. I appreciate it.”
After school, Toni and John got into her van, and she started the heater. They had both worn comfortable slacks and sweatshirts in anticipation of the trip. She estimated they had about two hours of clear daylight left.
They both waved at Jenny as she drov
e past them with Gabe and Garrett in her car.
"While the boys were getting ready for school this morning, Garrett told Gabe that he dreamed about a red car last night. I think he wants us to get one."
Her colleague studied her from across the seat. "I hope it's nothing more than that."
Toni shrugged. "What more could it be?"
They were quiet as she drove, each lost in solitary thought.
“I’m not sure what this trip is supposed to accomplish,” she admitted as they approached Brownville. “I just have this feeling that something might have been missed.”
“I’ve been thinking about the Gorman boy,” John said. "I have some friends who live in Poplar Bluff. I asked them about Brant, and they say the boy never lacked for material comforts and was spoiled rotten."
"That's the picture I've gotten." She exited the highway into town.
"According to one of them, Brant had a reputation for fighting and drinking from the time he started junior high and figured out how to get his hands on his dad’s liquor. And he never hurt himself with work. His mother doted on him and couldn't see his faults, while his dad was so busy that he left Brant and his younger sister's care to his wife. Brant was a good looking guy and had a horde of girls from the time he was old enough to be interested, but most of them dumped him.”
Toni drove at a slow speed across the small town. “I assume the difference after he transferred to a new school was that, by then he had a driver's license and a fancy car."
John chuckled. “And girls are suckers for hot cars, right?"
"It does seem to make a guy more popular."
“So are they dating the boy or the car?”
Toni grinned over at him. “Good question.”
His expression turned serious. “Unfortunately, money and expensive things can turn a girl’s head.”
“And a pretty face can distract a guy,” Toni added. “The results can be tragic.”
She turned at the park entrance and drove to the lane where the murder had happened. Then she pulled to the shoulder of the road and parked at a spot much closer than when she and Kyle had brought the girls to the vigil. “We’ll walk from here. There’s been a lot of traffic through here. No telling what it’s like in there.”
When they exited the van, the frigid air hit them with a stinging bite. Saturated with moisture, the atmosphere was penetrating and dropping in temperature fast. Toni pulled her coat collar up around her ears and tugged on her heavy gloves. John's gray, down filled coat looked warmer than her lighter weight blue tweed. A bit envious, she hunched her shoulders and began to walk at a brisk pace.
It was only about thirty yards to the crime scene. As they hiked nearer, they observed a pile of discarded yellow and black crime scene tape that someone had dumped against the base of a tree. Toni squinted at a spot of color up ahead.
They veered off the road into a small tree enclosed clearing, stepping across leaves and shattered dead tree branches that had blown down earlier in the week. Toni hopped over a muddy rut in the dirt path.
Sitting at one side of the little forest nook was an older model red sedan with the driver's door standing wide open. The sight made Toni feel faint. She shook off the ridiculous idea that her innocent ten-year-old child could have known anything about this red car. Impossible.
Shaken, Toni viewed the area, searching for an owner. Seeing none, she faced John. "Something's not right."
He surveyed the scene. "You're right. Let's look around." He approached the car and peered inside.
Toni walked up beside the back door and peeked down into the floorboard. "Nothing here."
"There is up here." John said, pointing. "There's a purse under the front of the passenger seat. I'd like to open it and look for some identification, but I think I'd better not tamper with possible evidence."
He backed away and peered at the trees surrounding them on three sides.
Toni patted her coat pocket that held her cell phone. "Should I call the police?"
John considered for a moment. "Let's check around a little more first. The ground is pretty messed up, so it's hard to tell how many cars have been in and out of here since the police took down the crime tape. It looks like there has been at least one vehicle in here recently besides this one. I see two sets of footprints."
He squatted and studied the ground. Then he stood, head still down, and began to walk toward the tree line, following the path of the prints.
Toni glanced to one side, and gasped.
John stood and followed her line of vision. On the ground to one side of a large tree a pair of tennis shoe clad feet were barely visible.
Already freezing, an even deeper iciness washed through Toni's body.
Please, dear God, don't let whoever that is be dead.
Together they ran to the tree. When they rounded the big oak, they discovered a young girl lying face down, as if sleeping, on a bed of dead leaves and slush. The visible side of her face was battered, but Toni thought the long auburn hair looked like that of the missing cheerleader she had seen a picture of in Zoe’s yearbook. The girl wore trendy maroon slacks, white tennis shoes, and pink socks. Her heavy navy coat was open enough to show the collar of a pink garment beneath it. Her hands were bare, a cell phone lying next to the right one, as if she had been attempting to make a call.
John reached down and felt for a pulse. Then he raised angst-ridden eyes. "She's dead and frozen."
Toni wanted to scream. Sickened with horror and rage, she swallowed against the bile rising in her throat and jerked her phone from her pocket.
"I'll do it," John said before she could dial. "You look like you're about to faint." He took his phone from his pocket and made the call.
Toni breathed deep gulps of air to steady herself, listening as he spoke to someone.
"This is John Zachary. Toni Donovan and I are at the site where those two teenagers were killed. There's a car parked nearby, and a dead girl not far from it."
Toni sprinted to the rear of the car. "The license number is LIN-510,"she yelled, mouth quivering.
John relayed the information. "The car door is open, and there's a purse in the front floorboard. We haven't touched anything."
Tears welled in Toni's eyes. How could this have happened? A young girl had died all alone in an isolated lover’s lane. Another family was about to be torn apart with grief.
John slipped the phone back into his pocket. "There's nothing we can do for the poor girl. Let's go back to the van and be warm while we wait for the police."
They hiked back to the vehicle and climbed inside. Toni turned on the heat and hunched down in the seat to wait. Fifteen minutes later a siren sounded in the distance.
Chapter 14
Toni was out of bed Saturday morning, but not fully awake yet, when her cell phone rang. She came immediately alert at seeing Buck’s ID. “It’s Linda Fisher, isn’t it?” she asked without bothering to greet him.
“It’s her,” he confirmed brusquely.
“Did you find anything that will lead you to her killer?”
“Hold on there, girl. I called to update you, but you’re rushing me.”
Toni clamped down on her impatience. “Okay, what can you tell me?”
“That’s better. I only have two solid facts. The detective found no shops with records of repairs on any car with damage and paint matching that on the bumper of Farris’s car.”
She bit down on her lip to keep from asking him to hurry up and give her the second thing.
“The medical examiner says the girl had been dead about twelve hours when you and John found her.”
Toni shuddered. “So she laid there injured for hours.”
“That’s how it looks. She died from a combination of blunt force trauma and exposure. She hadn’t been at school since Monday. My theory is that she knew we were onto her about the Facebook page and was hiding out. She met someone at that place Thursday afternoon, and they had a fight. She was hit in the head sev
eral times with something hard and died during the night.”
“Do you have any idea what she was hit with?”
There was a brief silence before he spoke again. “We found a bloody rock up the ditch line. We think the killer tossed it, thinking that was far enough away that it wouldn’t be found.”
“All this sounds very unprofessional.”
“I agree. It makes me think you’re right that we’re looking for another young boy or girl. I hate this case.”
Toni waited, not sure if there was more, or if he would disconnect.
“We found no prints on that soccer ball or the note. Whoever did it likely wore gloves, not surprising considering how cold it was.”
Disappointment made her sink onto a sofa cushion. “What about the nursing home case?”
“Your text about Delia Cunningham was right. I did some research on her personal finances. They’re critical, so her need for money is motive for latching onto a scheme to get her hands on a chunk of it. The policy on Mavis was taken out a year ago, exactly enough time for it to mature to the point she could collect if Mavis died.”
Toni inhaled sharply. “That’s too much for coincidence. I’d say it clinches it.”
“It sure makes her look guilty, but I don’t believe she did it alone.”
“So you’re not ready to arrest her. You want to find out who’s working with her.”
“Right.” There was a pause. “Well, aren’t you going to ask about the accused?”
“You mean Roddy?”
“Yes, I mean Roddy.”
“Has the Brownville chief brought his detective around to our way of thinking?”
“He has,” he said dryly. “They’ve agreed that their evidence isn’t solid, the timing isn’t right, and Roddy’s fingerprints on Brant’s car could have been made earlier, as Roddy says they were.”
“Have the charges been dropped?”
“Not yet, but I think Jeffers plans to today. He says any help we can offer is welcome.”
“Thanks for calling,” she said to a silent phone. She put it down, determined to concentrate on her family. The boys were still asleep, but would be awake any moment. Kyle had gone to the airport, but had said he planned to be home at noon.
