The Forgotten Girls (Book #1 in The Suburban Murder Series)

by Alexa Steele

  Bella didn’t expect her to fold quickly and she was right—she didn’t.

  “I have not murdered anyone. I want a lawyer.”

  Billy was waiting at the door when they exited the room.

  “She’s iron. See what you can find out about the girl while this one waits for her attorney. She’s protective of her and I want to know why.”

  CHAPTER 31

  The case was pointing in two very different directions, and Billy was struggling with where to have Bella and Mack focus. On the one hand, Mack had made a solid case against Ridley and his connection to Greenvale, Joslyn, her daughter, and the drugs. Given his background and the fact he had run, it seemed pretty straightforward. On the other hand, Billy couldn’t help but agree with Bella that something was seriously off with this doctor. She was reluctant to talk and, between that and her connection to Dunmore and the crests, it was pretty hard to ignore the possibility she might be involved somehow. Billy needed an outside perspective. He called Assistant District Attorney John Hausner and asked him to come. He had known John for almost a decade now and respected him immensely.

  “So lay it out for me, please,” John said. He was a senior ADA in the homicide bureau whom Bella knew, but not well. He had a solid reputation as a trial lawyer, but was a bit of a ladies’ man in the office, so she had heard. Billy had given him a brief background so Bella brought him up to speed and explained Dunmore’s history up until its closing.

  “The patients were all transferred to State when they closed the place down,” Bella said. “All made it there. Except one. Her name was Emilie LeCourt and she was released into the care of an uncle —a guy named Henry Abbot. We’ve checked everywhere and there’s no record of a Henry Abbot ever having existed. Her release was authorized by a Dr. Kempner, who signed off on it.”

  “Where is the doctor now?” Billy asked.

  “Living in Arlington, New York. He’s eighty-three,” she answered.

  “There is no record of her name or social security number surfacing anywhere either,” she continued. “Vanished into thin air.”

  “What was she in for?” John asked.

  “Killing her mother with a butcher knife. She was sixteen.”

  The three of them looked somber.

  “And you’re thinking she might be the girl in Weber’s photos?”

  “We are wondering,” was all Bella said. Then she added, “It looks like the feds spoke to any inmates—I mean patients—they could have a sane conversation with, which weren’t many. Nothing I found sheds any light.” Bella didn’t know what else to say.

  “What do we know about Kempner?” John asked.

  “He was a hack,” Bella responded. “Never rose above Assistant Superintendent. Had a wife and a kid. The only thing in his name is a three-hundred-acre farm upstate.”

  Billy raised his eyebrow.

  “How’d he get the money for that?” John questioned.

  “Don’t know,” Bella answered truthfully.

  “Why don’t you find out,” John said. “Doesn’t sound like something you buy on his kind of salary.”

  Bella and Billy nodded.

  “Look, the only reason to spend time, money, and energy trying to find this girl is to have something to hold over Weber’s head. It’s not crucial. Just might be a nice piece of leverage, get her to talk.” Billy sounded tired.

  “OK. Let me hear Weber’s motive,” John said.

  “Our victim confronted her a couple of weeks ago and accused her of pumping her daughter with too much Adderall,” Bella began.

  “Had she been?” John asked.

  “So far it looks like the girl was snorting, but wasn’t getting it from Weber,” she reluctantly admitted. “We have the dealer from school.”

  “So Weber’s not on the hook for that?” John clarified.

  “Not yet,” Bella admitted. “Our victim threatened Weber with an ethics complaint though,” she added hastily.

  “OK. Any evidence linking her to the scenes?” John pressed on.

  “Only the crests,” Bella said hesitantly. “It rained that night into morning and forensics came up with very little. A remnant of black cashmere was found burnt in the Dumpster. She wasn’t wearing black that night. It might have come off the killer.”

  “And Weber was wearing black cashmere that night?” John perked up.

  “Not that we have heard,” Bella admitted. John gave her a look.

  “How the hell did Weber get the cyanide? Anything on her computer that points to a purchase? Even a search?” John looked irritated.

  “We are looking into that now.”

  “So she’s good enough to pull off three murders with no prints or evidence, two of which are staged suicides, but deliberately leaves a bread crumb at each scene so you can follow it all the way back to her? Why would she do that?” John asked with disbelief.

  “She wanted us to tie the three together,” Billy jumped in.

  “Yes, I see that,” John replied, frustrated. “But why?”

  Billy looked at Bella.

  “We don’t have an answer to that yet.” Bella sounded exhausted. “She has major skeletons in her closet, John. There were rumors at Dunmore she had a thing for women, but no one would go on the record. She invoked doctor-patient privilege and got out of testifying against Barker. Not only did she not come forward with evidence of what he was doing—she shielded him.”

  “So again, why does she want to be found now? Why kill the girls?” John asked, switching gears.

  “We are checking her records to see if she was treating either of them,” Billy interjected. “One girl was doped up on Zoloft. I spoke with the parents. They knew nothing about it.”

  “Did she need the parents’ consent? Wasn’t she eighteen?” John pointed out.

  “She was seventeen. Weber would have needed consent. We’re a little fuzzy on her motive with the two of them,” Bella answered truthfully.

  She let that comment hang in the air a second before continuing:

  “Maybe she came on to one of them. These girls were gay—we know that. And maybe she knew that too. And maybe she overreached and was rejected. Scared they would rat her out. We need more time to develop our theory.”

  “Look, I hear you and it’s fascinating,” John said, slightly sarcastic, “but we have no direct evidence linking her to any of these murders. Literally, we are hanging our hats on these crests. Have you looked into the possibility she’s being played?”

  Bella raised her eyebrows.

  “This case is reminding me of one I had years back,” he continued, “where I had loads of evidence pointing to my killer and got ambushed in the end precisely because of that: it was a setup. I had jumped the gun.”

  He looked at them a moment before continuing. “We have to be able to answer why the crests were left, guys. Killers don’t usually dig themselves a grave. If she did kill the three of them, why does she want us to tie them together? You need to solidify her motive as well. Let’s reconnect when you have answers.”

  He stood and walked quickly out of Billy’s office, closing the door behind him.

  “He’s a smart guy.” Billy shrugged, leaning back in his chair when John was gone. “I like him.”

  “What now?” Bella looked deflated.

  “Gotta get something tangible on her. You got more to wade through.”

  “Got something!” Mack exclaimed as he barged into the office, passing John on his way out. Mack waved a piece of paper in his hands.

  “Kempner’s deed. The year he bought it—1984. He paid all cash. That’s the year they closed Dunmore.”

  “So the old coot came into money when the girl disappeared.” Billy slapped his hand on his desk.

  “Wouldn’t have been her family’s money,” Bella pointed out. “Her file shows the few family members she had abandoned her. But they were dirt poor anyway, practically homeless,” Bella pointed out.

  “So someone paid Kempner to sign her out,” Billy sa
id aloud more to himself than to her.

  She could see the wheels turning in his mind.

  “Who wanted her quiet, and forgotten?” Billy wondered aloud as he exhaled and leaned back in his chair.

  His desk was littered with papers, folders, post-its, and old coffee cups. “Thoughts?” Billy squinted his eyes at both of them.

  Mack shook his head and Bella looked up at the ceiling.

  “Don’t know,” Bella said slowly. “Maybe Emilie knew a lot more than anyone realized. Someone might not have wanted her to talk.”

  “She’d be how old by now? In her forties?” Mack asked.

  “Yeah, if she’s alive that is,” Billy replied. “This thing keeps growing legs.”

  “We’ve gotta find out what happened to her,” Bella said. “She may be our missing link to Weber.”

  “I’ll put Mikey back on it. You two head up to Arlington. Pay Kempner a visit.”

  CHAPTER 32

  Jay hadn’t been back home in a long time, he realized sadly, as he and Ridley turned down their old street in Jay’s black jeep Cherokee. It was strange enough seeing the old neighborhood, even stranger to turn onto his old block. But to be doing it with Ridley in the car made him feel like he was in an episode of The Twilight Zone, like he had entered another place and time and didn’t quite know where he was or what he was doing.

  Having a face-to-face with a real drug dealer had been the most dangerous encounter he had ever had. They had made it out of their meeting alive and Jay just kept thanking his lucky stars over and over again. Ridley hardly spoke until they got over the bridge but, once he started, he couldn’t stop. Hearing his mother brought Joslyn to Mugger B behind his back, exposing her to a guy like that, and her being killed days later—it was all too much for him. It was as if the floodgates opened and all the hurt and pain and sorrow of his entire life came pouring out. Jay listened as Ridley vented, vacillating between boiling rage and grief, swearing he would kill his mother one minute then sobbing the next. It was as though his whole childhood had blasted itself into sharp relief and finally, painfully, he was allowing himself to see it.

  By the time they turned onto their old block Jay had pretty much gathered that Ridley had taken the heat for his mother as he long suspected, though Ridley was in such a state of frenzy Jay wasn’t sure that Ridley was even aware he had blurted this out during his rant. Now, on their childhood street, Ridley had become eerily quiet. Jay noticed the houses hadn’t changed much and, before he knew it, he was slowing down in front of the driveway he had known so well as a boy: the one he had learned to ride his bike in, the place where he caught his first frog, the spot where he hid each year on Halloween to ambush trick-or-treaters. It was Ridley’s driveway, not his own. At that moment he felt a pit in his stomach for what life had done to Ridley and to their friendship. He looked over to Ridley and saw the look in his eyes, as he too stared at the driveway. At that moment, their childhood seemed both a distant memory and like it was yesterday: He could see in his mind’s eye two boys, two brothers, and all the shenanigans they had shared. He remembered so well and barely remembered at the same time.

  Jay didn’t let Ridley out of the car. He didn’t trust what might happen if he were to walk down that driveway and into that house. He had driven him back to Greenvale with the intention of bringing him to the station house and hiring him a lawyer, but had agreed to drive down their old street when Ridley made the request. Jay was not going to let Ridley be thrown to the wolves this time. He was here to help him see this one through. They sat in the car for a moment until Ridley nodded his head. Then they backed out and headed to the station house to see Dennis.

  CHAPTER 33

  Rosie walked over and poured her two new friends some coffee. “Well, I think you have officially made us destination 101 for law enforcement in this case,” she chuckled. “What am I gonna do when this case is over and I don’t see you two no more?”

  Bella and Mack had struck out at the Freeds and the Jordans—neither Jamie nor Jenna were home, the two people with whom they wanted to speak before their trip up north. Mack politely answered Rosie’s questions about the funeral and listened to her yap a little, but Bella was preoccupied, feeling off kilter at how complicated this thing had become.

  She hadn’t expected a quagmire. She had assumed this would be black and white, easier than normal. She had also assumed she would not feel for her victim the way she normally did. She had been wrong about that too. Now she wondered why she had made these assumptions, why she had been so flippant from the start.

  Rosie’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

  “Well, all I know is that poor husband of hers, and those children, they’re gonna need some good help when this is all over, that’s for sure. But he’s such a rich man. I am sure he will get his daughters the best psychologist he can find. Ahh, those poor, poor girls,” sighed Rosie before she launched into a one-minute soliloquy about luck and fate.

  Rosie’s comment about a psychologist jogged something in Bella. She thought of how Kim had seen Dr. Weber and Jenna at the diner together one day and Bella realized she had never asked Rosie about it.

  “Hey, Rosie, are you by any chance familiar with a psychiatrist in town named Dr. Weber?”

  “Never heard of her,” Rosie answered casually.

  “We heard she comes in here from time to time.”

  “I don’t know any shrinks, though I could use one that’s for sure,” Rosie laughed. “But I sure as hell can’t afford one.”

  “This one’s hard to miss,” and Bella described her.

  “Wait a minute. Are you kidding?” Rosie looked surprised, resting the coffee pot on the table and putting her arms on her hips. “I have seen that woman! She comes in here a lot, always alone. She’s a shrink? Wow. Sure doesn’t look like one. Or act like one.”

  “What do you mean?” Bella asked.

  “Ahh, nothing.” She shrugged, picking the pot of coffee back up. “It’s just that the couple of times I seen her with someone I noticed it, ’cause like I said, she’s always alone. She was in here yesterday morning, actually, right before you guys got here!” Rosie became excited. “She was with another woman.”

  “Really?” Bella and Mack looked at one another, curious. “Anyone you know?”

  “Naah,” Rosie replied. “She was real done up. Looked like one of the rich moms in town. They were just a strange pair, ya know? And now that I think about it, I saw them in here one night a while ago too. Place was pretty empty.”

  Rosie looked like she was remembering for the first time.

  “Do you remember what this other woman looked like?” Bella asked.

  “Yeah, dark hair, real straight. Real tan, looked like one of those fake tans you can get. Real thin. And really white teeth. It was crazy.”

  “What was crazy?” Bella asked coyly, looking full on at Mack to see if he was feeling as excited as she at that moment. Mack’s interest was fully piqued.

  Rosie looked uncomfortable for a moment. She looked back and forth between them, then leaned forward and whispered:

  “I saw them kiss.”

  *

  Mack and Bella sped through the huge gold Glen Oaks sign straight up to Jenna’s front door, only to find her gone. Neither Doug nor her girls had heard from her all day and, apparently, she wasn’t answering her cell. Their trip to Arlington postponed, Mack and Bella drove back to the precinct for a new round of talks with Weber, only this time her beefy defense lawyer, Arthur Godfried, would join them.

  Billy managed to get Arthur to agree to the interview by threatening his client with a very public arrest. While it was painful for Arthur to turn down such an unabashed moment of PR, he did the right thing and convinced Weber to come back. Rosie’s spotting them kiss felt like a pivotal turning point for Bella. Pieces were slowly starting to come together. Now, Bella and Mack sat uncomfortably with Weber in the cramped, airless interview room, with Arthur by her side.

  “We called you b
ack because some new information has surfaced that might change the direction of our case,” Bella began. This was the part of her job she loved most—getting to interrogate a hostile witness.

  “We would like to know more about your relationship with Jenna Jordan,” Bella continued calmly.

  “Before she says anything, tell us why she was called back in,” Arthur demanded.

  Arthur Godfried was a well-known criminal defense attorney known for grabbing the limelight, then turning it on himself. He was a publicity whore, with the reputation for being able to deliver a biting cross-examination and outsized courtroom theatrics, but he was also known for his sloppy legal work. He was short, stout, gruff, and perpetually tan. His stocky build looked somehow off in his pin-stripe suit, as though the stripes would lend him an air of refinement and respectability he innately lacked.

  “It has come to our attention your client may be carrying on an intimate relationship with the parent of one of her patients in Greenvale,” Bella answered seriously.

  “So what?” barked Arthur.

  “So considering we are looking at your client for these murders we are interested in hearing about whether this is true.” Bella smiled.

  Arthur gave Bella a skeptical look.

  “What is she intimating, Jimmy?” Arthur asked Mack, ignoring Bella completely.

  Jimmy? He must know Mack, Bella realized.

  “I am not intimating anything,” Bella answered for herself. “I am coming right out and using the word ‘affair.’”

  Weber interrupted. “I am not having an affair with anyone and I resent the accusation.” Weber looked at Arthur when she spoke.

  “You heard her then,” Arthur said, as though that were that.

  “Come on, Arthur.” Mack grinned slowly, like he was sharing a joke with an old friend. “We’re on the clock here, man. Don’t have time for bullshit. We get she doesn’t want to fess up. We get it, we do.” Mack turned and said directly to Weber, “But, at this point, she either comes clean or we raise the heat. You get what I’m saying?”