Rivaled in Murder

by Helen Gray

  Like with the soccer ball and note.

  “The tire tracks looked like a car peeled out of there,” Toni said, visualizing the marks she had seen.

  He nodded. “The paint we found on the bumper of the Gunther boy’s car confirms that he was hit and run off the road, but it doesn’t match Linda’s car. We're still looking for the car that does match.”

  The door opened, and the secretary entered with the laptops. She placed them on the desk. "Is there anything else?"

  "That'll be all. Thank you, Rita."

  As she left, the detective motioned for Zoe and Melody to take their computers. As they did, yelling erupted in the hallway. The detective reached over and pushed his intercom button. “What is it, Rita?” He listened a moment. “Okay.”

  Allen took a deep breath. “There’s a couple outside demanding to see someone, and I’m all that’s available.” He ushered them out the door.

  Chapter 16

  A man and woman came charging down the hall from the secretary’s desk. The man looked to be in his early forties, tall and stout, his face florid. The woman was tall with high cheekbones, her dark hair pulled back in a bun.

  “What are you people doing about these kids who are disappearing and turning up dead?” the man demanded. “Our daughter is missing, and I want her foundNow. Alive,” he added, his speech and manner that of someone accustomed to having his orders obeyed, no questions asked.

  He struck Toni as a bully, but her feelings were tempered by the thought of losing a child. She couldn’t comprehend the agony of it. These people had to be scared out of their wits.

  The detective extended a hand. “I’m Jim Allen. And you are?”

  “I’m Newell Decker, and this is my wife, Arlene.” The big man reclaimed his hand and placed it on his wife’s shoulder. “Our daughter, Angie, is missing.”

  “Why don’t we go into my office?” The detective turned to lead the way.

  Mr. Decker started to follow, but came to an abrupt halt when he spotted Zoe and Melody. He stared for a moment. “Don’t you girls go to school with Angie?”

  “Not any more, but we used to,” Zoe answered.

  “We knew Angie in junior high and were in band and science club with her when we lived in Brownville,” Melody added.

  The man frowned. “You don’t now?”

  Melody shook her head. “We moved and transferred to Clearmount last year, but we still keep in touch with a lot of our friends from here.”

  Mr. Decker looked past the girls at Toni, and a sudden look of recognition flashed over his face. He pointed a finger. “You and another teacher found the Fisher girl. That’s why you’re here. Can you help me find my daughter before … before …”

  The detective placed an arm on the man’s shoulder. “That’s our job. Come with me.”

  Mr. Decker didn’t move. He jabbed the finger at Toni again. “I want her to come with us.”

  Detective Allen looked skeptical, but he didn't refuse. “I guess it can't hurt. Rita, will you find some soft drinks for these girls,” he called up the hallway to the secretary. Then he led the Deckers and Toni to his office.

  Inside, he motioned everyone to the chairs and went behind the desk. “Now, Mr. and Mrs. Decker, tell me about your daughter. How long has she been gone? Give me the details.”

  “We’re not sure,” Mrs. Decker said, wringing her hands in her lap. Her dark hair was pulled back so tightly that all the worry lines stood out in her face. “Thursday she came to the restaurant after cheerleading practice and worked the dinner rush. Then she went to hang out with some friends. We were in bed when she got home. Friday she came to work right after school, but she said she had a headache and quit early. The next morning she asked if she could use our truck to pick up some large decorations for homecoming and spend the weekend and Monday night with a friend.”

  Detective Allen picked up a pen. “What’s the friend's name?”

  “Why are you wasting time with such details?” the husband blustered. “Stop asking these stupid questions and find Angie.”

  Mrs. Decker placed a hand on his arm. “They will, Newell.” She turned back to the detective. “Her name is Mallory Johnson. Angie said they were building some kind of set for homecoming, and that they would move everything to the school last night.”

  Across the room from them, Toni tried to be invisible. She recalled her brief visit with Angie at the restaurant. The girl had not been hostile, but there had been a coolness, maybe even an air of superiority, about her. And she had displayed no discernible concern regarding her fellow cheerleader’s absence from school and work that day.

  “She didn’t go there,” Newell Decker interrupted again, his fist slamming down on the desk and sending pencils bouncing off onto the floor.

  The detective’s voice turned stern. “Mr. Decker, I’m trying to get an idea where to look for your daughter. If you can’t calm down and let me do my job, I’ll have to ask you to leave the room while I talk to your wife.”

  “Please cooperate,” Mrs. Decker said, gripping her husband's arm and giving him a pleading look.

  The man eased back into the chair, visibly restraining his impulse to speak his mind. “All right, continue,” he said with an arms-across-the-chest harrumph.

  The detective returned his attention to the woman. “Okay, please continue, Mrs. Decker.”

  She nodded and swallowed. “Angie didn’t come home today like she said she would. I called Mallory’s mother, and she said she hasn’t seen or heard from Angie all week. Neither has Mallory. That means she's been gone three nights and we didn't know it. You have to help us," she wailed.

  Detective Allen picked up a pen. “Will you describe what kind of vehicle she’s driving?”

  Mr. Decker raised a palm. “I’ll do that. It’s a two thousand twelve dark blue Ford F-150 pickup with a camper on the back. If you’ll give me a minute, I’ll have the license number.” He reached for his wallet.

  The detective waited while the man thumbed through papers and came up with the number. After writing it down, he started to ask another question, but Toni forestalled him by blurting one of her own. “Did Angie take any camping gear with her?”

  Mr. Decker gave her a sour look. “Of course not. She’s an experienced camper, but she’d never do that when it’s freezing cold.”

  “Did you check?”

  He glowered.

  “Did you?” the detective asked.

  “Well, uh, no,” the man stammered.

  “It never occurred to us,” the wife said. “But we will as soon as we get home.”

  Allen jotted a note. “How’s Angie fixed for money?”

  Mrs. Decker glanced at her husband before answering. “She has a credit card of her own, and she just got a paycheck from the restaurant.”

  Allen nodded and made another note. “If she uses the card for gas, we can track her.”

  He darted a look at Toni before his next question. “What about her recent behavior? Has she been getting along with you at home? Has she had any problems at school?”

  Both parents were quiet a moment. “There was an incident with the cheerleaders that got them some time in detention,” Mrs. Decker said softly. “But it was the entire squad, not just Angie.”

  She had barely stopped speaking when Newell erupted. “That has nothing to do with her being missing. Angie gets along great in school. She’s smart and popular and involved in all kinds of activities. We would know if something was wrong. ”

  I’ll bet.

  Scenes flashed through Toni’s mind of the problems and secrets that teenagers kept from their parents.

  “What about your relationship with her? Have there been arguments or anything out of the ordinary?” the detective asked, ignoring the outburst.

  Mrs. Decker bit her quivering lip. “Well, when she was little, she was bad to throw temper tantrums, but she outgrew that. Now we get along good most of the time, but Angie had the flu recently, and she’s been cranky
.”

  “Does she have a boyfriend? If so, could they have run away together?”

  “No way,” Newell Decker practically shouted.

  The detective pinned the man with a hard stare. “Did she ever date the boy who was killed?”

  Both parents froze in place. Finally Mrs. Decker spoke. “She used to. They broke up a few weeks ago. Angie was devastated over his death.”

  The detective’s face revealed nothing. “Do you think she’s run away?”

  “She wouldn’t run away,” Newell said with certainty. “She loves her life here. I want her found before anything happens to her.”

  If it hasn’t already.

  Toni read the fear in Mr. Decker’s eyes. He might be a mover and shaker—even a bully—but his daughter was missing. And he was scared.

  “Can you think of any reason for her to disappear?” she asked, inserting herself into the conversation without conscious intent. “Does she have friends who might have taken her into hiding for some reason?”

  The man contemplated for a moment, and then shook his head. “I can’t think of anything that she couldn’t tell us about.”

  Toni looked at the detective. “I know there’s a waiting period for missing person cases, but don’t the age of the girl and the circumstances warrant an immediate search in this case?”

  He only took a second to respond. “I’ll get a bulletin right out. You go take care of those girls out in the lobby. Got that?”

  “Got it.” She stood. “Mr. and Mrs. Decker, I pray that your daughter is found quickly.”

  As she left the room, the detective was requesting a list of names of the girl’s friends.

  *

  The next morning, sleet was falling and school was cancelled. By noon the precipitation had stopped, but the roads were hazardous.

  A sense of urgency clawed at Toni. Answers were needed. Now. And she was trapped inside the house. Yet, even while frustrated, she was thankful that the boys and Kyle were safely home with her.

  After a lunch of soup and sandwiches, she landed on the sofa with her phone and dialed Zoe. There was nothing she could do about the police search for Angie. But she had to do something.

  "Hi, Mrs. D," the girl answered. "Have you tried to go anywhere yet?"

  "No, and it's making me antsy," Toni admitted. "How well do you know Sheena Clark and Cindy Evans? Were you close?"

  "We used to hang out some. Our mothers worked together. Why?"

  Toni drew a deep breath. "I looked them up Saturday and chatted with them. I left with the impression that they know more than they're telling. Do you have any idea what kind of information they might know that they're withholding?"

  The line went quiet. Toni waited while Zoe thought about it.

  "Well," she said finally. "The last time we were together, Sheena said Brant caused a fight at the mall. When I asked if Shelby was with him, she said she didn't think so. But they seemed vague. You want me to call her, don't you?"

  "Would you?"

  "What should I ask her?"

  "Try to find out if there was more to the story."

  "Okay. I'll call you back."

  After the call, Toni peeked outside. The sun was coming out and beginning to put a glistening sheen to the thin ice coating the ground. Her fear was that the ice would only partially thaw and then freeze back over during the night. She doubted there would be school tomorrow.

  Kyle and the boys were having a good time sledding, but Toni didn't feel like braving the cold. She decided to bake. She was taking brownies out of the oven when her phone rang. She set the pan on top of the stove and rushed to the living room.

  "I talked to Sheena," Zoe said when Toni answered. "But before I did, I called Melody and asked her to call Cindy. They both dodged our questions, but I finally got Sheena to admit that the reason some of the kids go to the mall so much is to shoplift."

  Toni closed her eyes, hating this.

  "The reason they didn't want to say too much and risk having you find out about it is because they were curious and went along with that group once. They've never done it again, she said, and asked me to not tell. I managed to dodge making any promise,” she added quickly. “She swears they only took one item each, and both of them felt so guilty that they promised each other they'll never do it again."

  They had wanted to be part of the popular crowd. Toni understood that. And was thankful that these two had chosen to steer clear of that activity.

  "I called Fiona," Zoe continued, interrupting Toni's thoughts. "I asked her about this stuff. She said Dione, her cousin Britney, and her pal Mallory are the ones who talked Sheena and Cindy into going along. Dione, Britney, and Mallory got caught that time, which is what probably scared Sheena and Cindy so bad. It happened outside of school, and their parents—because of who they are—were able to keep it quiet and out of records that would make it hard for them to get jobs after graduation."

  "Thank you for the information," Toni said. "I see why the girls wouldn't want it known."

  "If I hear anything else that has to do with Shelby's friends or relatives, even if it seems too small to be important, I'll call you. I'm starting to understand how important little details can be."

  Zoe's promise was welcome, but after the call discouragement once again weighed on Toni. She still didn't see how anything she had learned connected to the murders.

  Right after supper that evening her phone rang again. "Hello."

  "The ice melted a lot," her principal said, "but it's freezing back over. School is cancelled for tomorrow. Hopefully the busses can navigate the back roads by Friday."

  They disconnected, and Toni called the librarian, next on the emergency call chain. Then she settled on the sofa to watch the weather report with Kyle. When it ended, she reached over and plucked the newspaper Dack had given her from the coffee table where she had dropped it.

  When she had finished reading the article, her gaze moved to the accompanying photos. The larger one of the crime scene pictured no people, only the victim's car beyond a perimeter of crime scene tape. The smaller photo below it showed spectators standing far enough away from the photographer that they were unrecognizable, at least to her. She started to put the paper down, but paused for a closer look at the smaller picture. To the left of the group, a young boy sat on a bicycle. The kid looked to be anywhere from eight to twelve. There was nothing distinctive about him, but there was about his bicycle and passenger.

  There was a flat seat over the top of the rear wheel, and seated on it was a dog perched on his haunches, its paws on the boy’s waist. It looked like a piece of cloth, maybe a scarf, dangled from its neck.

  Toni remembered seeing that boy riding the streets one time when she had been in Brownville. She guessed he lived there in town, or nearby. She studied the picture a few more moments and put it down.

  The next morning after breakfast, Kyle deemed the road passable with his truck and stated his intention of going to work. "The main highways were cleared yesterday, so it's the side roads that are keeping the schools closed."

  Toni nodded. "By this afternoon traffic should be moving near normal again."

  "You aren't going to stay home, are you?" His look was knowing.

  "I may go out," she admitted.

  "Well, be careful." He clearly didn't like it, but he wasn't going to fuss about it.

  Toni spent the morning doing housework and fighting restlessness. She wanted to get going, but needed to be sure it was safe.

  "How would you boys like to go for a ride, and find some blizzards for dessert?" she asked after lunch.

  Gabe's eyes narrowed. "Where?"

  "Brownville," Garrett said matter-of-factly. "She wants to talk to somebody else."

  Toni went still, staring at her youngest. She hadn't heard him thrashing around in the night like he sometimes did when he dreamed. "How do you know that?"

  He shrugged. "It's what you always want to do."

  Oh.

  The boys
faced one another, as if synchronized. "Do we want blizzards?" Gabe asked.

  Garrett grinned. "Sounds good to me."

  Gabe faced Toni, now also wearing a grin. "When do we leave?"

  “Now. Get your coats.”

  A half hour later she steered the van off the highway into the neighboring town and pulled in at the local Dairy Queen. She gave the boys money for their desserts, and waited for them to return to the van. Once they were resettled, happily slurping ice cream, she rolled back into the street.

  She cruised around the block and through some residential streets, keeping an eye out for the boy on the bicycle. Having no luck and thinking she would have to stop at the gas station and ask about the kid, she drove back past the Dairy Queen. As she started to turn in at the station next door, she spotted a bicycle rider coming toward them from the street to their right. Sure enough, there was a dog perched behind the young boy, a red cloth fluttering behind its neck.

  Toni edged back onto the road and drove slowly to the stop sign, arriving at it just before the boy did. She clicked on her left blinker, turned, and slowly veered back toward the Dairy Queen, hoping the boy would be behind her.

  He was.

  Keeping her speed slow enough for him to pace her, she passed the ice cream joint and drove toward the edge of town, keeping an eye on the boy in her rear view mirror. When she circled the block, she silently urged him to do the same—and breathed freer when he did.

  When she turned in at the city park at the center of town, he pedaled past her. But when she parked at the curb, she saw him stop and look back at the van. She scrutinized the winter-brittle grass along the edge of the park lawn, not turning her head to let the kid know she was watching him.

  "Want to get out?" she asked the boys.

  Without answering, Gabe exited the front passenger door and Garrett the back one, and trotted toward the swings. But when they spied the bike and its rider, they stopped and changed directions.

  Toni scooted out and followed them. "What's your name?" she asked in a friendly fashion as she approached the boy.

  "I'm Clark Kent, but my mom calls me Nick," he said with an impish grin. Bundled up in a heavy coat, jeans, and gloves, only a fringe of dark hair showed around the edge of a red knit hat. Up close, she judged his age at about ten.