by Diane Weiner
“I’m putting together a true crime book about the Ashley Young case, like I said on the phone. I know it’s been almost a decade, but can you tell me what you remember.”
“I don’t remember a lot from that time. I was drinking heavily, having frequent blackouts. I’m embarrassed to admit.”
Harriet said, “But he pulled himself together and hasn’t had a drink since we moved here, right, honey?”
“I shudder when I think about my life back then,” Rowan continued. “Thank God I got hooked up with Alcoholics Anonymous. I still go to at least one meeting a week. They saved my life.”
“Do you have any idea who would have taken over your classes back then?” said Emily.
“There were two colleagues in the department who had room in their schedules. They gave the class to a woman named Maya Cavanaugh. Good woman, knew her craft. She was pregnant at the time. I don’t know if she lasted the whole semester.”
“Had you moved here to Ann Arbor before Ashley’s disappearance?”
“No, I was still in town. Took me a while to get sober and search for a new job. They interviewed me, the police did. I couldn’t even remember where I was when she went missing.”
“Then a witness came forward,” said Harriet. “A woman was out drinking at the same bar as Bill that night. She vouched for him being there.”
“I can’t remember who was or wasn’t there, but I appreciate that she came forward.”
“The police checked security cameras outside the bar,” said Harriet. “They saw Bill leave at closing time, and they have footage of him passed out on a stoop across the street afterward.”
“So you have an airtight alibi?” said Emily.
“It would seem so. Sorry I can’t be of much help.”
Susan and Emily checked into their hotel.
“I’m disappointed,” said Emily. “This trip was a waste.”
“Not really. We know Bill Rowan had an airtight alibi, and a pregnant lady took over his class. We also learned from Coralee that Taglieri was trying to pay Ashley to feed him information about you.”
“So Taglieri, like we thought, is still a possibility for Martha’s murder.”
“And for whoever is threatening Sarah. Perhaps a professor or someone related to the Midwest. If that’s what she said. The connection was awful. Maybe instead of Professor, she was saying Peter.”
Emily tried calling Sarah again with the same results as she’d been having.
“Still not there. Let’s grab some dinner. Maybe by the time we get home tomorrow we’ll know more.”
Chapter 30
The trip back to Vermont went smoothly. Mike and Henry were waiting at the gate when Emily and Susan, tired and hungry, arrived.
“So, did you find out where Sarah is?” said Henry. “Or who killed Martha and Ashley?”
“No, but Dr. Rowan has an airtight alibi for the night Ashley disappeared. And he has nothing to do with Sarah’s disappearance, even though she mentioned professor and Midwest.”
“Susan, you will both be interested in today’s news. The police confirmed that the body––rather the skeleton––was, in fact, Ashley Young. The DNA results confirmed it.”
“Henry, did they say anything else?” said Susan.
“Just that they are working on it and they assured the public that justice would be done.”
“I hope they’ve started looking for Sarah by now. And something else. Coralee called Emily to say Noah remembered seeing Sarah with Peter Taglieri at the inn. He offered Sarah money to tell him Emily’s schedule and anything she knew about the book.”
“Ashley’s DNA was found behind Taglieri’s trailer. The news report mentioned that also,” said Mike. “I’m sure the police are working on a connection.”
By the time they got back to the house, Emily and Susan were exhausted. Henry ordered food from Coralee’s and brought it back for dinner.
“Noah’s trial is in two weeks if they don’t settle before then,” said Henry.
“I hope the judge goes easy on him. He lives with his mother, after all, and I’m sure he’s smart enough not to steal from her guests again. Turn on the news while we eat. I want to hear what they have to say about Ashley’s body.”
Midway through dinner, Emily heard the name Ashley Young.
“Come on. We have to hear this.”
The four of them gathered around the TV. Ashley’s remains were still missing, but the reporter mentioned that clothing and blanket remnants were discovered.
“First the body is in a shallow grave behind Taglieri’s trailer, then the killer moves it to your barn. Why?” asked Susan.
“It could have been the other way around,” argued Emily. “Perhaps it’s been buried in our barn all these years, and when the jewelry was found, the killer got nervous.”
Henry said, “And either he moved it onto his own property…”
“Or,” continued Mike, “he was trying to frame Taglieri.”
As they were talking, the news cut to a cabin with an ambulance parked in front of it. The paramedics carried out a body on a stretcher, covered head to toe with a sheet.
“Oh God. Who is that?” said Emily.
“The reporter says it’s an apparent suicide. They won’t release the name until the family has been notified.”
Emily said, “Sarah! I’ll bet they found Sarah. I’m calling Detective Wooster.”
If that’s Sarah, why would she have committed suicide? thought Susan. She was afraid for her life. She was hiding in order to save herself. This isn’t a suicide. Without even hearing the rest, I’m sure it was murder.
Within what felt like minutes, Detectives Wooster and O’Leary knocked on the door. Detective Wooster said, “What do you know about this girl Sarah Kimberly? She was an instructor in your department, correct?”
“Yes, and she’s been missing. It’s her, right? The body you found is Sarah Kimberly.”
“We are not at liberty to discuss whether or not this is Sarah Kimberly,” said Wooster. “We are simply looking for information to aid our investigation.”
“I was supposed to meet with her,” explained Emily. “She said she had something important to talk to me about. Then she missed our meeting. Later, she called and said she was scared someone was after her. God, no. Sarah, dead? Another murder?”
Susan said, “And she called a second time. Said something that sounded like Professor and Midwest. Or she could have said Peter, as in Peter Taglieri. Emily had a bad connection.”
“She told me she had proof of who killed Ashley Young,” said Emily. “We tried to tell your department she was missing, but according to policy, they couldn’t search for her until forty-eight hours had passed.”
“Her parents hadn’t heard from her, and the woman she rented from hadn’t seen her all day but says she saw a dark-colored truck parked in front of Sarah’s apartment the night before. The truck was gone in the morning. Are you getting all this?” asked Susan.
Detective O’Leary had been busily typing into a tablet the entire time. She held it up and waved it at Susan. Emily collapsed into a chair. Chester, as if to console her, jumped on her lap.
“Detective, what was the cause of death?” asked Henry.
“You know I can’t discuss details of an open investigation.”
“Open? So you’re not sure if it was a suicide. That makes sense. We know Sarah was afraid of someone. Why would she kill herself if she was trying to avoid getting killed?”
Detective O’Leary put away the tablet, and she and her partner walked toward the door.
“Did you tell her parents?” said Emily.
“We have informed the parents of the deceased.”
Her poor parents, Susan thought. They have to be devastated. The killer realized Sarah had proof he’d killed Ashley Young ten years ago. Sarah wasn’t here back then. She had to have found physical evidence or maybe a confession… We need to look through her things. Emily and I should go to her apartment and
look around before the police close it off.
Chapter 31
As if she’d read her mind, Emily said, “Susan, the proof Sarah was talking about had to be in her apartment, right? I think we should have a look.”
Henry put his hands on his hips and stood tall and authoritative. “You have no business going over there. The owner isn’t going to let you in, especially now, knowing Sarah is dead.”
“But she doesn’t know Sarah is dead,” argued Emily. “Remember they wouldn’t release her name on the news. We have to go over there tonight.”
“Then let us at least go with you,” said Mike.
Susan answered, “We’ll attract too much attention if we all go. Besides, the owner’s already met Emily and me.”
Despite continued protests from both men, the women hopped into the Jeep and drove to Sarah’s apartment.
“Let me do the talking,” said Susan. “I’m pretty good at this.”
Emily parked in front of the farmhouse. “I don’t see a car. And the lights are out. I don’t think anyone is home.” She grabbed a flashlight from under the seat.
They knocked on the door and confirmed Emily’s suspicion.
Susan said, “I guess we have no choice. We’ll have to get into her apartment without a key.”
“You know how to do that?”
“How hard could it be?” She and Emily tried the door and front window, both of which were locked. Then they walked around the back and saw a small screened patio. Inside the patio, they spotted sliding glass doors. The screen door was locked. “If we get inside the patio,” said Susan, “I’ll bet we can get in. The door to the house looks flimsy from here.”
“How can we get inside the patio?” Emily pulled the handle to the screen door. “It’s locked.”
Susan tried tugging on the screen, but it was taut. She looked for holes but found none. “If we cut the screen, we can reach in and open the door.”
“I have nail scissors in my purse. I’ll be right back.”
Susan shivered waiting for Emily to return from the car. What are we even hoping to find? Think, Susan. Did she find a murder weapon? Ashley’s death was so long ago… Maybe a confession from the killer? Yeah, right. She said she had proof. I hope her killer didn’t take whatever proof she had with him.
Emily came back. “Here you go. Let’s cut this sucker.” The open nail scissors fit perfectly through the screen. She made a few cuts and announced, “Voilà. We’re in.” She reached through the cut screen and unlocked the door.
“Now we have to get into the house.” Susan tried the door into the kitchen. “It’s locked.”
“What about the sliding door?” Emily gave it a tug. “It’s open! She probably hasn’t come out to the porch all winter. I’ll bet it’s been unlocked for months.”
Using the flashlight Emily had brought, they searched the kitchen.
“The refrigerator is full. If she was planning on committing suicide, why do a major shopping?” said Emily. “And look at the fridge door.”
On the front of the refrigerator, Sarah had a magnetic dry-erase calendar. “She has plans sketched in for the whole month.” She looked at the entries. “Carol Swift. She’s a reporter for the local paper. Look, Sarah was going to meet with her tomorrow. She didn’t kill herself.”
“We were pretty sure she didn’t,” Susan affirmed. “The killer must have known she’d go to the police or the newspaper. That’s why he killed her. Let’s focus on the proof she talked about.”
Emily tried getting into Sarah’s laptop but didn’t have a clue as to the password. “I don’t even know her birthday or pet names if she has any back home. This is fruitless.” Emily checked under the sofa and on the bookshelf. “I don’t see anything.”
Susan opened the coffee table. “Nothing that looks like proof or a suicide note.”
“If she’d written a note, wouldn’t she have left it at the scene? The police didn’t mention a note.”
“Let’s check the bedroom,” said Susan. They peeked under the bed and in the dresser drawers. Susan opened the closet. A briefcase in the back of her closet? This could be something. “Emily, look.”
They rummaged through the papers inside. Susan said, “A rental agreement, a copy of what she’s done on her dissertation so far, college loan papers, bank statements…”
“Now what?”
Before Susan could answer, they both froze. Headlights glared through the window. “Get down,” whispered Susan. They held their breaths. The lights went off. They peered out the window. “It’s a truck… or a van. I can’t tell; it’s too dark.”
“Someone is following us,” said Emily.
“Or they came to do what we’re doing.”
After a few minutes, the headlights turned on again. They heard the engine start up. Susan peeked through the curtain. “It’s leaving. Whoever was here is gone.”
“We should go too. There’s nothing here. We can try her desk at school tomorrow.”
“Okay. But we need to watch our backs in case the killer is onto us.”
When they came within sight of Emily’s house, Susan said, “What’s going on?” She sniffed. “I smell smoke.” Henry, Mike, and Kurt were gathered at the barn.
“It’s the barn!” cried Emily. “It’s on fire. Oh my God.”
They jumped out of the Jeep and saw Kurt and Henry aiming hoses at the barn. Mike aimed a fire extinguisher and released white foam all over the side. Susan read ugly, red graffiti that someone had spray-painted across the entire barn wall.
“This is your last chance. Who would have written that?” She heard the fire truck siren and, although primed with adrenaline, took a deep breath and said, “Peter Taglieri.”
Emily grabbed her arm. “Or the killer.”
“Or,” said Susan, “they’re one and the same.”
The firefighters had the fire under control quickly. “Good thing you guys responded so fast with the hoses and fire extinguisher,” said one. “They slowed it down enough that it didn’t do any real damage. It didn’t even burn all the way through the wall.”
Another firefighter said, “Looks like a real amateur job. Thank goodness.”
Another siren blared through the darkness. Detective Wooster jumped out of the car and said, “Is everything under control? Was it accidental, or are we talking arson?”
The firefighter said, “Definitely arson. Amateur job.”
“And look!” Susan pointed to the side of the barn. “If that’s not a threat, I don’t know what is.”
Detective Wooster said, “When did you first notice the fire?”
“Emily and I were… out. As we pulled closer to the barn, I smelled smoke and saw the flames. The men were here first.” Please don’t ask us to elaborate on the word out, Susan prayed.
Detective Wooster turned to Henry. “What happened?”
“Kurt came pounding at our door. He noticed it first.”
“I was out with Prancer, and I saw the flames. I heard a car speeding away. I ran right over. We grabbed all the hoses we could find, and Mike grabbed the fire extinguisher.”
“Did you notice what kind of car it was? Did you see anyone?”
“No, Detective. I wish I could be of more help,” said Kurt.
Henry said, “You saved the barn from being totaled. You were a tremendous help.”
A tremendous help, thought Susan. Funny how he’s always around when something happens…
Chapter 32
The next morning, Henry and Emily had waffles and bacon on the table when Susan and Mike woke up.
“You didn’t have to go through all this fuss,” said Susan. “I know you’re exhausted.”
“Helps keep my mind off dwelling on how serious this all is.”
“Are you up for some more snowshoeing?” said Henry. “It’ll get our minds off this while the police do their jobs.”
Emily sat down at the table. “I want to stop by the office and go through Sarah’s desk. It won’t ta
ke long. When we get back, we’ll do some snowshoeing.”
Snowshoeing? My hand has barely healed from last time, thought Susan.
Susan was surprised by her ringtone. “It’s my half brother, George.”
She stepped into the living room. “George, is something wrong? Is Audrey okay?”
“If by okay you mean sane and rational, then the answer is no. Richard proposed. They’re going to get married. We have to stop them.”
“How is she so blind to his tricks? He’s been freeloading off her, and if they get married, he stands to inherit the house and her portion of stock in the school.”
“Oh, and you’ll love this. I was over there yesterday, and right out on the kitchen table she had papers scattered all over. She’d been reading through a life insurance policy. Richard took out a million-dollar policy on her. This is straight out of Dateline.”
“As soon as we finish up here, I’ll fly down to Florida. Mike will have to get back to work, but I have an open schedule. We’ll take care of it. Meanwhile, you have to stall her.”
“I’ll do my best.”
My kids don’t need me to parent them anymore, but my mother does. Crazy, Susan mused.
Emily said, “Is everything okay?”
“My mother is about to make a big mistake. When we wrap things up here, I’ll have to fly down to Florida. Do you ever feel like you have to parent your own parent?”
“You don’t know the half of it. After what happened with my sister, and then my father left, I’ve been the parent for years. My mom can’t take care of herself. She’s seeking out husband number three, trolling the church basements and senior centers, sitting in on everything from Al-Anon to bereavement groups.”
“Isn’t Al-Anon for families of alcoholics? I know you barely drink. I didn’t realize your brother was an alcoholic.”
“He’s not! That’s the point. God forbid she take care of herself for once.”
“I didn’t even know you had a sister.”
Emily tensed from head to toe. “I don’t want to talk about it.”