by Lisa Regan
Laughing, Josie sat up and took the Kong. “I swear, if you could talk,” she told him. “I think you’d be saying, ‘this Kong isn’t going to throw itself.’”
For that she got a full-throated bark. He hopped around, anxiously awaiting the game of fetch he had initiated. Josie lowered herself onto the floor and tossed the Kong across the room. Trout brought it back again and again until they fell into a rhythm. Josie’s mind went to the Duncan and Palazzo cases, turning all the information they had over and over in her head. Their team was still missing pieces.
Krystal Duncan had been digging for information about the bus accident, even going so far as to visit Virgil Lesko in prison. What had she been after? More importantly, what had she stumbled upon that had gotten her murdered? Had she told Faye Palazzo about whatever she found? Was that why Faye had died next? But if both women had been killed to silence them, why leave the names of the bus crash children on their arms? If the killer was killing to keep the secrets that Krystal had unearthed then why go to so much trouble to expose everyone else’s secrets?
If only, if only.
Was someone out there playing the If Only game with the parents of the West Denton Five? If so, where did it start and where did it end? Josie tried to follow the convoluted path of if onlys in her mind, starting with the information Krystal had dug up.
If only Nathan hadn’t canceled the orthodontist appointments that day, Bianca and the Cammack children would not have been on the bus. If only Gloria hadn’t called Nathan and demanded that he come home, then he wouldn’t have canceled the appointments. If only Miles Tenney hadn’t been stealing from his neighbors, then Wallace Cammack’s PlayStation would have been exactly where it was supposed to be when Gloria forgot her planner and came home to get it. Then she wouldn’t have called Nathan, and he wouldn’t have canceled the appointments.
Josie couldn’t find the connection between Krystal or the Cammacks and Faye Palazzo, but Faye had been murdered next. Faye had seen the bus swerving that day—or rather, Corey had seen it and told her—but she had chosen not to go after it because she didn’t want to be seen with Corey. If only she had not been so worried about hiding the affair, she would have agreed to go after the bus. Maybe Corey could have flagged Virgil down or detained him at one of the earlier bus stops, perhaps they could have prevented the accident altogether.
Who was left?
Dee and Sebastian, just like Josie had told Chief Chitwood. Josie didn’t know the thing Sebastian hadn’t told anyone—if there was a thing at all—but Dee had told Josie something that she hadn’t told anyone and that was about Ted. What if Dee was wrong about Ted? What if Ted was telling the truth? He’d been at the Tenneys’ house not because he was stalking Dee but because he was involved in a criminal enterprise with Miles. But, as Josie and the team had been over, why would Virgil think that Ted was stalking someone again? What had he found?
The answer was so obvious it was laughable. “Stolen property,” Josie said out loud. Trout skidded to a halt on the living room carpet, Kong hanging from his mouth, ears pointed straight up, head tilted to the side as if to indicate for Josie to keep talking. She laughed. “Stolen property,” she told the dog. Unimpressed, Trout dropped the Kong in front of her again and she tossed it. Then she picked up her phone and called Noah.
“Ted was receiving stolen property from Miles to sell,” she said when he answered.
There was a beat of silence, then Noah said, “Yeah. Go on.”
“Property that Miles had taken from his neighbors’ homes, including jewelry. Ted was living with Virgil. Dee saw Ted lurking outside the home and sent Miles out to get rid of him but really he was there to pick up stuff from Miles.”
“Which he took home with him until he could move it,” Noah said. “Okay, I see where you’re going with this. Dee told Virgil she thought Ted was stalking her. Virgil conducted his own investigation and probably found women’s jewelry among Ted’s things.”
“Yes,” Josie agreed. “Virgil had no idea that Ted was just making a little extra cash helping Miles Tenney move stolen goods. If he found women’s jewelry, like Faye Palazzo’s earrings or a women’s purse like Gloria Cammack’s clutch, immediately after Dee accused Ted of stalking, he would naturally have come to the conclusion that Ted was stalking someone again.”
“Virgil had worked hard to get Ted back on track. He would have been upset. Upset enough to have a drink with lunch,” Noah said.
“If only Dee hadn’t misconstrued Ted’s presence outside her house,” Josie muttered. “She wouldn’t have told Virgil that she thought he was stalking her, and Virgil wouldn’t have looked through Ted’s things and found something that seemed incriminating. Then Virgil wouldn’t have felt compelled to have a drink that day.”
Noah said, “What are you saying? That the accident wouldn’t have happened?”
“Yes,” Josie said. “I think so.” She took a moment to explain what Dr. Rosetti referred to as the “If Only game.”
Noah took a moment to think when she finished. In the background, Josie heard the rustling of paper and the clack of a keyboard. Finally, he said, “You’re forgetting about the narcotics. Virgil Lesko tested positive for a large amount of oxycodone that day, and that makes sense. One drink—even two or three or four—would not have accounted for him driving so recklessly even before the crash. He was really wasted that day.”
Josie said, “True, but he told Gretchen that he hadn’t taken oxy.”
“So he lied,” Noah said. “We already know he lied about why he had a drink that day. Why not lie about the oxy?”
“But he admitted to drinking. Why admit to drinking but not taking narcotics? He wasn’t going to make it any better for himself. The labs don’t lie. Unless—”
She broke off as more pieces of the puzzle clicked into place.
“Unless what? Josie?”
She worked through it in her mind twice before she spoke again. “Of all the parents alive and accounted for, the only person who doesn’t have a game piece in the If Only game is Sebastian Palazzo.”
“So? Maybe he didn’t know anything. Maybe he had no secrets. The guy is pretty pathetic, Josie.”
“Maybe he is but that doesn’t mean he didn’t have a secret. Noah, Sebastian Palazzo is a pharmacist. He owned his own pharmacy until pretty recently—within the last couple of years—when a larger chain bought him out.”
“What are you saying? You think Sebastian Palazzo gave Virgil the oxy? Is that his secret? If only he hadn’t slipped Virgil the oxy, Virgil wouldn’t have been so wasted that day and maybe he wouldn’t have crashed? Why would Sebastian give Virgil oxy before he drove the bus?”
“I don’t know,” Josie said. “But it would fit with the overall pattern of the case. If Krystal Duncan somehow found out that Sebastian gave Virgil the drugs that led to him crashing that bus, that would have sent her completely over the edge. Don’t you think?”
“And she tried to stop herself from going over that edge by asking her pot dealer for the same kind of painkillers?” Noah said with a small laugh.
“Not necessarily,” Josie argued. “She told Skinny D she needed something to take off the edge. I don’t think it mattered to her what that something was. Noah, we need to focus on Sebastian. Can you search the Abt and Defeo records for his name?”
“I already have. He doesn’t come up at all. Not as a client or a defendant or a witness or anything.”
“Hold on,” Josie said. Leaving Trout in the living room, she ran to the kitchen and opened her laptop. Her heel tapped tile floor as she waited for it to boot up. Once she got her internet browser up, she searched for Palazzo Pharmacy and scrolled through the results. “Looks like Sebastian sold the pharmacy to the larger chain about two and a half years ago and turned a tidy profit while still working there and drawing a salary. But last year, the pharmacy got into hot water because one of the pharmacists filled a prescription with the wrong pills and almost killed a lady.”
> She heard clicking on the other end. Noah said, “That would have fallen under a personal injury lawsuit. Hang on, I’ll search by the chain pharmacy name.” A few moments slipped past. Then he said, “Yep. Richard Abt represented that woman against the pharmacy.”
“Which means that Abt and Defeo would have gotten all kinds of records in discovery,” Josie said.
“Right and although Krystal wouldn’t have worked on that case, she would have had access to the files.”
“She found something in those files, Noah. I know she did.”
“Well, I’m not coming home until I find what she found,” Noah said. “But Josie, this doesn’t get us any closer to finding the killer.”
“Sebastian Palazzo could be the killer,” Josie argued. “If we find whatever Krystal found and confront him with it, then—”
“Hang on,” Noah interrupted. “I’m getting a call from Mett.”
Josie heard the beep of an incoming call on her own phone. Pulling it away from her face, she saw it was Chief Chitwood calling. “I’ve got one from the Chief,” she said. “I’ll call you back.”
But Noah was already gone.
“Chief?” said Josie after swiping answer.
“Quinn,” he barked. “I need you to get your ass over to Gloria Cammack’s house, pronto.”
Josie’s stomach tightened. Her first thought was of neither Gloria nor Dee, but of Heidi. “Sir? Is anyone hurt?”
“Hurt? No, Quinn. They’re missing. All of them are missing. Gone.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Gloria Cammack’s street was awash with the glow of red and blue lights from police cruisers. Josie parked as close to the house as she could. She counted three marked vehicles: the Chief’s truck, Gretchen’s car, and a pickup truck Josie remembered seeing at Corey Byrne’s job site. Along the pavement opposite Gloria’s house, neighbors had lined up to watch the show. A WYEP van pulled up behind Josie. Quickly, before any reporters noticed her, she jogged up the walk to Gloria Cammack’s house. A uniformed officer stood sentry outside with a clipboard. Butterflies fluttered in Josie’s chest. “You’ve got a crime scene?” she asked him.
“I don’t know. The Chief said not to let anyone who’s not the police inside.” He waved the clipboard. “And to make sure I keep track of who goes in and out.”
Josie nodded. He wrote her name down and she went inside. It looked like someone had turned on every light in the house. She didn’t see anyone from the ERT but in the living room, Corey sat on the couch, staring up at Gretchen. His jeans and T-shirt were stained and grimy. “What happened?” Josie asked, drawing up beside Gretchen.
Corey said, “I came to get Heidi. Let myself in because the door was unlocked. No one was here.”
Josie said, “It’s almost eleven o’clock at night.”
“Long day,” Corey said. “Besides, I got here an hour ago. Like I said, no one was here. Not Heidi or Dee or even Gloria.”
“He tried calling all of them,” Gretchen said. “But their phones are in the kitchen.”
A sick feeling roiled Josie’s stomach. “Purses? Heidi’s backpack?”
Gretchen nodded. “In the kitchen. Everything was left behind. Bags, phones, laptops. Gloria’s planner.”
Just like Krystal Duncan and Faye Palazzo.
“There was freshly popped popcorn in the microwave,” Corey said. “And a movie playing on the TV. It’s like they all just got up and left.”
“What about the unit out front?” Josie asked Gretchen.
“They didn’t see anything. They didn’t even know anything was amiss until Mr. Byrne came back outside and told them everyone was gone.”
“Which means they left through the back,” Josie said.
“Right. Chief’s got people out back right now. The ERT is over in Krystal Duncan’s yard, searching for any clues that might be over there. They already printed the kitchen. We’ve got a couple of cruisers driving around the neighborhood and some units canvassing neighbors on Krystal’s street to see if anyone saw anything.”
Corey said, “Where the hell is my daughter?”
Ignoring him, Josie asked, “Did anyone check their phones? Maybe one of them texted someone or left something on their phone—a clue of some kind? Has anyone checked to see where Nathan Cammack is? What about Ted Lesko?”
Gretchen said, “Nothing on the phones. Nathan Cammack is home. We sent a unit to his place already. We pulled Mett from the property search and sent him to track down Ted Lesko. He only had a partial list to begin with. Dan Lamay is still looking up property owners of barns in the county.”
“Where’s my daughter?” Corey repeated. “I don’t understand what’s going on here.”
Josie turned in a slow circle, as if the room could offer her answers. “Is this Miles?” she said. “Cerberus? Why would all three of them leave with someone?”
“A gun,” Gretchen offered. “They’d leave with someone if that person had a gun.”
Corey stood up, his tone strident now. “Are you telling me someone came here and took my daughter away at gunpoint?”
“We don’t know,” Josie told him. “We’re just speculating. They could have gone with someone they knew.”
“Like who?” Corey said.
Josie said, “What about Sebastian Palazzo? Has anyone checked on him?”
Gretchen said, “The unit is still out front of his house.”
“Out front,” Josie said. “’Cause that worked out so well here.”
“Shit,” said Gretchen. “Mr. Byrne, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to go to your home and wait there until we have news.”
“Are you kidding me? Someone took my daughter, and you want me to just go home?” he shouted.
Josie said, “The Palazzos are only a block over from Krystal’s house.”
“Go,” Gretchen said. “I’ll handle this.”
The Cammacks’ screen door slammed shut behind Josie. She took off, running in the opposite direction of the press, which was now a cluster of reporters and cameras instead of a single WYEP news van. She passed the top of Krystal Duncan and Dee Tenney’s street. More police vehicles crowded the front of the Duncan house. Josie noted the ERT vehicle and Chief Chitwood standing in the middle of the street directing people. Some of the press had found their way over to the secondary scene and were crowding in on police.
Josie made a left onto the next street. A single police cruiser was parked halfway down the block in front of the Palazzo house. Josie rapped on the window when she reached it. “I’m going in to check on Mr. Palazzo. Is there anyone in there with him?”
The officer shook his head. “He had a friend here almost all day. She left a few hours ago. No activity since then. I know that Detective Palmer was worried about this guy trying to hurt himself. I asked his permission to stay with him inside the residence, but he wouldn’t grant it.”
Josie took out her phone and dialed Sebastian Palazzo’s cell phone number. No answer. Same with his home number. She hung up and pocketed her phone. “I’m going inside.”
“You want extra units?”
“No,” she said. “Everyone’s spread thin right now. I’ll call you if I need you.”
Josie ran up the walk and knocked on the front door. She called out for Sebastian several times but heard nothing. More calls to his cell and landline went unanswered. No sound at all from inside the house, although she could see that there were lights on inside on the first floor.
“Hey.”
Josie whipped around to see Noah jogging toward her. Beyond him, parked behind the cruiser was his car. She hadn’t even heard him pull up.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
He moved to the opposite side of the door and unsnapped his shoulder holster. “I found what Krystal found. Came out here, talked to Gretchen. She’s busy with Corey Byrne who left the Cammacks house and went right out to the press and blurted out everything.”
“Oh great,” Josie groaned.
“You shouldn’t go in here alone.”
She was about to ask what exactly Noah had found when a strangled cry came from inside the house. It sounded like an animal caught in a trap. “Come on,” Josie said.
She pulled her weapon at the same time as Noah. The door knob twisted easily in Josie’s hand. Sebastian hadn’t locked the door. The keening was even louder inside the foyer. Josie swept one corner of the entrance with the barrel of her gun while Noah panned the other. “The living room,” Josie told him. He signaled her to go first. Josie crept forward along the right-hand wall until she came to the entryway leading into the Palazzos’ black-and-white art deco living area. The room was utterly destroyed. Furniture had been overturned. The lamps and small tables were splintered and crushed. There were gouges in the walls. There was even a dent in the ceiling. The only thing untouched was the life-sized portrait of Faye. Kneeling before it was Sebastian. His thick, dark hair jutted out in every direction. He stared up at the picture of his wife, mewling like a creature that had sustained a fatal wound. His chest heaved beneath a white T-shirt. There was a tear in his khaki slacks along his left thigh.
“Mr. Palazzo,” Josie said, speaking loudly to be heard over his cries.
The wailing stopped. Then his left arm shot up and in Josie’s direction. Too late, Josie realized it held a gun. She stepped back, out of the doorway, bumping into Noah behind her, but no shot was fired. “Gun,” she told Noah. “Sebastian,” she called. “It’s Detective Josie Quinn. I’m here with my colleague, Lieutenant Noah Fraley. We’re here to talk to you.”
“Go away or I’ll shoot.”
“Please, Sebastian, put the gun down. We only came to talk.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he yelled. “I was only going to kill myself, but if you try to stop me, I’ll kill you, too.”