by Cate Conte
We both glanced at Grandpa. His face remained impassive, but he inclined his head, encouraging her to continue.
“The next time they got us together for an important mission, it involved a person. There was some guy who was pushing to test on beagles. Can you imagine?” Even all these years later, I could see how much it bothered her. It bothered me too, and I could see how a young girl could’ve been swept up in the injustice of it and the desire to make a difference. “They wanted to get him to back off, to stop petitioning the school to do it. I told them I was in. They wouldn’t tell us the plan ahead of time. We met late at night—of course—and went to this guy’s house. Where they proceeded to give us all rocks and instruct us to break as many of the guy’s windows as possible.”
“And did you?” Grandpa asked.
Katrina kept her gaze steady on her mug. “I took a couple of rocks and went around back. As soon as I was out of sight I took off. I didn’t want to be part of that. It seemed … serious.”
“Vandalizing someone’s house is serious,” Grandpa said. “That was a good choice. So what happened next time you saw them?”
“Brandon came to my door the next day. He was angry. Accused me of not being dedicated to the animals. To him. Manipulated me hard. When I was properly begging for forgiveness and a way to make it up to him, he told me about the next plan.”
“Which involved the fire.”
Katrina nodded. “Of course he left that part out, but yes.”
“So tell us what happened,” Grandpa said. “Was it against the same person?”
“Yes. He got permission to bring in the dogs. Which of course made me feel even worse, like if I had stepped up that night … maybe he would’ve backed off. He told me the plan was to destroy their house. I told him that was crazy, that there had to be a better way. He insisted that it was the only way to make a statement.”
“Did he tell you how?” Grandpa asked.
I didn’t realize I was holding my breath, waiting for what came next.
“He wouldn’t, until we were on the way there. There were five of us. We stopped at the gas station to fill up a bunch of gas cans. That’s when I realized. I went to get out of the car and take off, but one of the other guys … pulled a knife on me.” She still wouldn’t look at us, so completely lost in her story. Her face was white and she wasn’t even speaking to us. It was like she’d been waiting to tell this story for so long and finally had her chance.
“We got to the house. I was crying. Asking them not to do it. They all took turns making fun of me, then threatening me. They made me touch all the gas cans.”
For fingerprints, I realized. If they were going down, she was going with them. I felt tears prick my eyes. I couldn’t even imagine being put in that situation.
“And then … Brandon was trying to make me light the match. I wouldn’t do it. His friend actually cut me.” She lifted her sleeve and rubbed at a scar on her arm. I’d noticed it before—it stretched the length of her forearm—but I’d always assumed it had to do with an animal. And I’d never asked.
“Then I gave in and tried, but I couldn’t. My hands were shaking and I’d never been good at matches.” She laughed a little. “It’s why I never got into smoking. But finally they figured we were going to be spotted, so they stopped trying to make me do it. Brandon’s little mini-me actually lit the match and tossed the rags. Then they took off and left me there. I took off into the woods and hid for hours until I felt safe enough to walk home. I didn’t even hear … the rest of it until the next day.”
I couldn’t take anymore. I went over and wrapped my arms around her, not even caring that I was displacing the cats. “I’m so sorry,” I said, hugging her tight. “I wish you had told me.”
She pulled away and looked from me to Grandpa, her eyes fierce. “I never wanted to tell you this. Either of you. I knew you would’ve been so disappointed in me. Like you are now.”
“No.” Grandpa shook his head. “You needed help. You didn’t do anything wrong, Katrina.”
She squeezed his hand gratefully, grabbing mine with her other hand. “You guys … you’re like my family. You have to believe me. I didn’t set that fire. Just like I didn’t kill Virgil Proust. And I need help figuring out who did.”
Chapter 27
Tuesday, December 29: seven days after the murder
2 p.m.
Grandpa and I, in unspoken agreement, waited a few hours, then left the house to debrief on Katrina’s story. She’d told us a lot today, and I felt sorry for her. And definitely sorry for the girl she’d been back then, charged up to do good and bring justice to animals and ending up a scapegoat for a bunch of people with a larger agenda.
“So what do you think?” I asked Grandpa finally, when we were in his truck and had turned the corner heading to town.
He glanced at me. “I think that she was a young kid who got put in a bad position, and that she’s regretted it every day since. I feel sorry for what she went through.”
I blew out a breath of relief. “Me too.”
“I wish she would’ve pressed charges on those boys,” he said.
I shrugged. “She was probably scared.”
“I’m sure she was. It doesn’t mean they should’ve gotten away with it. And the fact that she knows who did it…” He let the sentence trail off.
I felt my body go cold. “Could she still get in trouble?”
“There was no murder involved, only personal injury. Statute of limitations on arson in Massachusetts is six years. Same for kidnapping.”
“Kidnapping?”
He pulled into a parking space in front of Bean, my favorite coffee place. “Those boys kidnapped her when they made her stay in the car by knifepoint.”
I sat back, the full realization of what she’d gone through dawning on me.
“The family could go to civil court, but none of them would do jail time at this point. It was, what…” he did some quick calculations. “Nineteen, twenty years ago?”
I nodded. “Roughly.”
He shook his head, lips pressed together, no doubt thinking about how the injured person probably felt like it was yesterday. I sure was.
“Katrina didn’t kill Virgil,” I said.
“I know. Did you find out what was she doing there that night?”
“She says she had to check on a cat.”
“Jack told me she specifically said she was at the Proust house.”
“She told me he must have misunderstood.”
We got out of the car and went into the café. I ordered for us while Grandpa got a table—a vanilla latte for me and a black coffee for Grandpa. I got us a raspberry muffin to share and headed over to sit.
The truth was, I didn’t buy Katrina’s reason myself. And it didn’t line up with the other things I was hearing. Being in the neighborhood was one thing. Being at Virgil Proust’s house was another. The only reason I could think of for her to go there specifically would be to confront them with something. Which would look really, really bad.
But I didn’t say any of that. “I’m sure she had a good reason,” I said when I slid into my seat. “To be there. Especially if she had been told by her boss not to go. What’s up with him, by the way? Why did he suspend her?”
“It’s political, Maddie. You know that.”
“Well, it’s wrong.” I took a bite of my muffin. Good, but not nearly as good as Ethan’s.
“He felt that he didn’t have a choice.” He didn’t opine on his feelings about that. Grandpa sighed. “Look. I love Katrina like she was one of you girls. I would do anything for any of you. And that means she’s innocent in my mind unless or until the evidence overwhelmingly points otherwise. I think there’s something she’s not telling us, but I don’t think it’s that she murdered that man. I also think the case they have against her is flimsy at best. They’re a good police department, but inexperienced with murders. And they want a fast solve, so of course they’re going to take the easy path. And d
on’t you repeat that to Craig,” he added.
“Of course not.” But it didn’t make me feel great to hear it. “We need to strategize. There are a lot of crazy characters who live in that neighborhood. Did you find out anything juicy about any of them yet? Or maybe the matching Christmas gnome in someone’s trash that could give us a clue?” I was being facetious of course, but deep down I hoped it just might be that easy.
Instead, Grandpa reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small black notebook. I recognized it immediately. It was the same kind of notebook he’d used throughout his police career. He’d always had one on him, and when I was a kid and used to go visit him at the police station there was usually a stack of them on his desk. He never used anything but those notebooks for work. I think he had kind of a superstition that if he used anything else he wouldn’t successfully close the case.
Grandpa flipped open the notebook to the first clean page, and clicked his pen. He didn’t answer my question, but I kind of expected that. He was clearly still in the information-gathering stage. “Tell me your observations about this neighborhood and its people.”
I launched into a description of the neighbors I knew, which houses they lived in and how they were placed on the cul-de-sac, and what I knew about each, including Virgil. Then I told him about Lilah’s insights from the other day when I’d stopped by my parents’ house. The Audubon board, Harvey, Trey Barnes. Edie and June having some kind of falling out. He said nothing while I talked, just took extensive notes. When I finished giving him the brain dump, I paused for breath.
He finished scribbling then looked up at me. “Given the people you know—who, by the way, aren’t the only potential suspects—who are you most concerned about?”
“June,” I said immediately. “Honestly, she seems off, Grandpa. I’m not just saying that because she’s mean about the cats. She really seems unstable.”
“I can see why, given what you told me about her smashing his phone. And I saw her approach you at the courthouse. She looked disturbed.” He flipped back a couple of pages and underlined something. “Who else?”
I thought about that. I wanted to give him my best answer. I kind of felt like a cop in training right now. “I wouldn’t have said it before, but … Lilah mentioned the whole argument with Harvey. I would’ve chalked it up to nothing much, but I heard Harvey’s wife saying something about how people were going to find out about them being at odds. It seemed weird to me. And like Harvey was trying to keep up this really positive facade about him and Virgil.”
“Did the cops hear this?”
I shook my head. “They didn’t even want to talk to Harvey after they talked to me. I mean, I guess they talked to him when they arrived, but they were definitely more worried about me.”
“Well, you found him. That doesn’t surprise me.” Grandpa consulted his notes again. Every now and then he would pause and circle something, or make some kind of symbol. I watched with interest. I loved watching other people’s work processes. I found it fascinating.
“What else?” he asked again, looking up at me.
I had to tell him the rest of it. “There’s one more thing … involving Katrina. It sounds like it was right around the time she got banned from the neighborhood.” I told him what Lilah said about her alleged fight with Virgil. “She never mentioned it to me, though.”
He wrote that down too.
“So what do you think?” I asked. “Is there any way you can find out anything about June?”
He didn’t answer right away. Then he said, “The fight with Hackett was about the board meetings?”
I nodded. “That’s what Lilah said.”
“That Virgil wasn’t showing up for.”
“I guess not.”
“First thing we should do. Check if there’s a pattern. Was it every meeting? Some meetings? How often? Maybe we can track his activity to something else. Something he didn’t want anyone knowing about.”
“Okay,” I said. “We need the minutes. Are those public?”
“Hmm.” Grandpa thought about that, tapping his pen on the table.
Suddenly I sat straight up. “Never mind! It doesn’t matter if they’re public. Dr. Kelly is the Audubon secretary.”
“The vet?”
I nodded. “He mentioned it in passing when I was there the other day. I’m sure he’d be happy to help. He loves Katrina.”
“Then,” Grandpa said, “we should talk to Dr. Kelly.”
I nodded. “Tomorrow,” I said. “We don’t have a lot of time to waste.”
“Sounds good to me. By the way, you may want to check with your parents. They scored an invite to the funeral.”
“Virgil’s funeral?” I asked, surprised.
“Yes. Apparently it’s a private affair, but the CEO of the hospital is always welcome.”
I smiled. “Well, it wouldn’t be right if their daughter didn’t go pay her respects too, then. Especially given my … proximity to the situation.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Grandpa said.
Chapter 28
Tuesday, December 29: seven days after the murder
4 p.m.
We finished our coffee in record time and left Bean. I wanted to get to Dr. Kelly as quickly as possible, and I wanted Grandpa as my secret weapon. Although I planned on charming the good doctor for his minutes, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have Grandpa’s silent backing in this endeavor. Although I knew Dr. Kelly adored Katrina and had a feeling he wouldn’t resist the opportunity to help her out of this mess if he could.
Grandpa insisted on driving, so we hopped into his truck and drove to Duck Cove. I hoped Dr. Kelly was home. I didn’t want to call first. Catching people off guard for stuff like this generally worked better, in my amateur opinion. I was relieved to see his old Dodge minivan parked in the driveway when we pulled up.
I tried the side door leading to the vet office first. I wasn’t sure if he worked today. I wasn’t even sure if he had regular hours anymore or just took people when they called for appointments. Either way he had to be back pretty close to full time. For a small island, there were a lot of pet owners. But the door was unlocked, and when I stepped inside Dr. Kelly’s wife, Janet, glanced up from the little desk. She brightened when she saw me.
“Hi, Maddie! How are you, sweetheart?” She came around to give me a giant hug, and when she saw Grandpa she gave him one too. “And Leo. It must be my lucky day to see two of my favorites.” She grasped each of our hands and squeezed. “How are you, Leo?”
“I’m good, Janet,” Grandpa said, looking a little embarrassed by all the attention.
“Well, I should say so. You have yourself a whole new career, not to mention your beautiful first-born granddaughter back in the fold. It must be so comforting.”
“It’s great to be back,” I said, saving Grandpa from having to be all effusively sentimental. Especially since he was in police mode. “We’re having a lot of fun.”
“Wonderful! Now what can I do for you? Did you bring a cat?” She looked around to see if we had a carrier with us.
“No, not today,” I said. “Actually we were wondering if we could talk to Dr. Kelly, if he has a moment?”
“Oh, of course,” she said. “He’s just finishing with someone now but they’re almost done. Have a seat.” She waved at the little seating area with the same little orange chairs that I remembered from when I was a kid.
Janet, not one for silence, kept up the small talk while we waited, asking about Val and Sam, and of course my parents. I did most of the talking. Grandpa was funny when he was in work mode—he had a one-track mind.
True to her word, five minutes later her husband came out, followed by a man with a beagle. It made me think of Katrina’s story, and I felt awful again. “He should be feeling better in no time,” the doctor was saying. “Call me with an update in a few days.”
While Janet took care of the man’s bill, Dr. Kelly turned to us. “Well, hello again Maddie. An
d Leo. Good to see you, sir, as always.”
“You too, Doc.” Grandpa stood and shook his hand. “Can we have a moment of your time?”
“Of course. Come on in.” He led us to his little office, which was no bigger than my mom’s walk-in closet. “What’s going on?”
“Dr. Kelly,” I began. “you told me you’re on the Audubon board with Virgil Proust. And that you’re secretary.”
Dr. Kelly nodded a bit warily. “Yes.”
“I understand that the meeting minutes are public record and I wondered how I might be able to get a look at a few of the more recent ones?” I blinked innocently at him. “I’m not quite sure where to look online. When I did a search, I couldn’t find them.”
Dr. Kelly’s face relaxed. “Sure. I can do that. And I’m afraid that’s my fault that you can’t find them online. I haven’t posted them to our site. I do need to get myself back on track.” He looked properly chastised for putting off this job. “How far back would you like to go?”
I wondered why he had looked so freaked out when I first mentioned the board, but I guess when someone asks you about a murdered guy, most people would probably get a little freaked.
“The past year?” I asked, glancing at Grandpa. He nodded.
Dr. Kelly flipped open his laptop and clicked around a bit. A minute later his little printer stirred to life and pages began slipping out.
“Thanks, Doc. We really appreciate this,” Grandpa said.
“Not a problem.”
“Okay if we take them?” I asked.
He nodded. “Absolutely.”
Well. That was easy. I sat back, satisfied, and waited for the pages to finish printing. Once they were done, Dr. Kelly gathered them, clipped them together with a purple paper clip, and handed them to me.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” he said, glancing at Grandpa. “And good luck with whatever it is you’re looking for.”