by Debra Webb
“Wednesday morning. She came in about seven-thirty, got bagels for her and Mr. Duval. She did that every Wednesday. She was always doing nice stuff for people.”
Shonda had just confirmed that aspect of Duval’s story, not that Laney doubted him. She hadn’t gotten the impression that he was lying. Maybe not being totally forthcoming about how much he cared about Sylvia and who might have had reason to hurt her, but he hadn’t murdered her. Laney doubted he knew who had or that person might be dead already. Since no other bodies had popped up in Shutter Lake, she felt reasonably confident he was in the clear on that score.
That said, she had a feeling that Troy Duval, formerly Jason Lavelle, knew the kind of people who could slip in and commit murder and make it look like an accident without ever leaving a trace of evidence.
“Did Sylvia seem okay that morning?” Laney asked. “She wasn’t upset or behaving differently than usual?”
Shonda thought about the question for a bit before answering. “She seemed excited. She mentioned a vacation. Maybe that’s why.”
Laney wondered why no one at Sparkle had mentioned that Sylvia was planning a vacation. Surely Renata Fernandez would know her boss’s plans.
“Was Nolan going with her?”
Shonda frowned. “No. He said he wouldn’t go anywhere that required a passport. Too many young people—especially pretty ones like Sylvia—disappearing.”
“Like being kidnapped? Human trafficking?”
Shonda nodded. “Yeah. Venezuela is like in the top five of the worst countries for human trafficking. I told Sylvia she was crazy to go there alone.”
“Did she say why she wanted to go there?”
“She just said, she wanted to go someplace new.”
“Thank you, Shonda. You’ve been a great help.” Laney gave her a card. “Please call me if you think of anything else.”
She stared at the card then at Laney. “You’re not going to tell Nolan what I said, are you?”
“Nope. This conversation is just between the two of us.” And the chief, but she didn’t bother tacking on that part.
~
By the time Laney got back to the office it was just after four. She went straight to her office and did some research that had been needling her all afternoon and then she walked across the hall to McCabe’s office and knocked. Both their offices had windows but the blinds on the chief’s were closed. She hoped he didn’t have anyone in there.
“Come on in!”
Laney opened the door and walked in. “I was worried you had a visitor.”
He shook his head. “Just needed some time to think. I hope you’ve had better luck today than me.” He leaned back in his chair. “Close the door and have a seat.”
Laney pushed the door closed and dropped into the chair in front of his desk. “Tell me about yours and I’ll tell you about mine.”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a hint of a smile but it didn’t last long. “I tried to talk to Vernon and he blew me off.” McCabe shook his head. “He warned me to stay away from his son. It’s the damnedest thing. I have known this guy and his family my whole life. I don’t know what’s up, but it can’t be good. I also talked to the folks at the lab.”
“Yeah, I called them, too. Nothing useful yet.”
He grunted a sound of frustration. “I also called the coroner’s office. They reminded me that autopsies take time. Everything takes time. And I want answers now.” He blew out a big breath of frustration. “On top of that, we can officially rule out robbery.”
Now this was news. “How so?”
“A jogger found her credit cards and sixty bucks in cash in the ditch about two miles from her house. The woman and her mutt showed up with the stuff in one of those doggie poop bags.”
Laney laughed, couldn’t help herself. “Since she didn’t own any fine jewelry pieces that anyone is aware of, you’re right, robbery is off the table.” Not that she ever really thought that was the motive.
“So what kind of progress did you make?”
“I interviewed Troy Duval. I think we can slide his name to the bottom of our list. There may be things he knows that he didn’t share, but I believe he will in time.” Laney flashed a fake smile. “In my opinion, particularly considering he has MS and is very frail, we can safely put him in the didn’t do it category.”
McCabe made a couple of notes on his ever-handy yellow pad.
“I talked to Nolan Ikard and Shonda Reed. Ikard didn’t admit as much, but Reed confirmed that he and our victim had a more intimate relationship without all the strings. She also mentioned that Vinn Bradshaw showed up at the coffee shop. He and Sylvia had a tense conversation outside. I think we have to assume that something was happening between Sylvia and Vinn or maybe just that he wanted something to happen. Whether the Bradshaws want us nosing around or not, we can’t ignore all the facts.”
“You’re right. Anything else?”
Laney considered the other and decided it was definitely relevant. “Although her employees didn’t mention anything about it, Sylvia was apparently planning a vacation to Venezuela. Alone.”
McCabe shrugged. “Okay.”
“Venezuela, as I just heard and then verified, is like one of the top five cities in the world for human trafficking issues.”
“Sylvia was pretty fearless.”
Laney nodded. “From all accounts totally fearless. Here’s the kicker. That employee of hers that just up and left, Josie Rodriquez.”
McCabe went still as if the adrenaline suddenly pumping in Laney’s veins had started firing in his as well. “Yeah.”
“I did some research on her. She didn’t just leave. Her folks over in Grass Valley have her listed as missing. Young, beautiful, missing for going on three months now.”
“You’re thinking she was a victim of human trafficking and Sylvia was somehow trying to find her—hence the vacation to Venezuela.”
“It’s a theory I want to follow up on. And just maybe our super intelligent boy Vinn was actually romantically involved with young Josie and had been pushing Sylvia to look into it. Maybe that’s what all the tension was about.”
“You’re good, Holt.” McCabe’s smile was real this time. “I’m damn glad you’re here.”
Chapter Ten
Laney pulled to the curb on Mill Street in front of the house where Dana Perkins resided. The principal lived a good deal more frugally than many of the other residents. Her small white bungalow was only a block from the school. No matter that the house was small, it was charming. Houses had personalities and this one suited Dana. Laney drove past the school every morning on her way to work. Dana walked to school, weather permitting, and never failed to wave.
Dana had never been married, no children. No criminal record, of course. She was well thought of in the community. She attended fitness classes at the wellness center and was always the first to volunteer for community fundraisers. She made Laney tired just thinking about the number of pies her fingers were in. And the woman still had time to be a good friend and show up at the occasional girls’ night.
Since her car was parked next to the house and the kitchen light glowed through the window, Dana was likely home. Laney emerged from her car and headed up the sidewalk. Dusk was closing in. Most folks were probably settling in for dinner. Laney had stayed at the office doing more research on human trafficking before calling it a day. Though she couldn’t see how Sylvia’s decision to go looking for the missing woman in another country would have caused her murder here, it was a lead Laney refused to ignore.
She climbed the steps and rang the doorbell. Something that sounded like “coming” echoed on the other side of the door, a few seconds later it opened. The scent of searing veggies and exotic oils wafted out, reminding Laney that she should eat.
“Laney.” Dana smiled but then the expression faded. “Has something else happened?”
Her reaction was the same fear simmering in the whole community. All these years not a single
violent crime, much less a murder, and now everyone was terrified that another murder was imminent.
“No. Thankfully nothing else has happened. I just have a few questions for you, if you have a moment.”
“Of course! Come in.” She opened the door wider. “Let me make sure I turned off the stove.” She closed the door.
“I don’t want to keep you from your dinner.” It sure smelled good. Laney’s mouth watered and that rarely happened anymore. She’d lost the desire for food at the same time her life fell apart. No matter that she’d pulled herself back together fairly well, some things hadn’t revived. Her appetite was one of them. At least until about five seconds ago.
“It’s mostly done. I just have to stir the rice.” Her mouth rounded with a quickly indrawn breath. “Why don’t you have dinner with me? I always prepare too much and God knows the leftovers always go to waste.”
“I’m sure you’ve had a long day. You don’t need to worry about feeding me.”
“Come,” Dana countered, “have a seat at the island. I insist.” She grinned. “You can ask me anything you like as long as you eat.”
Laney decided not to argue. She was tired and hungry and whatever was on that stove smelled divine. She settled onto a stool. The main living area of the house was one long, open room. Beyond the kitchen was a hallway that led to the private rooms. Dana’s style was modern and relaxed. No clutter. No fuss. Nice. But what Laney found the most amazing was on the stove. A wok was filled with colorful veggies and sizzled with the most incredible smell. Next to the wok a saucepan brimmed with fluffy white rice.
“I make this every week,” Dana was saying. “I love Asian food but they add so much salt when you buy it at the grocery store or even at restaurants. I prepare it myself so I can control what I put in.”
“Very smart.” Laney’s shoulders relaxed for the first time today. “I really should learn to cook. I mean, I make a mean scrambled egg, but that’s about the extent of my culinary skills.”
Dana laughed, the sound was pleasant. She looked very much at home in front of that stove. The stovetop was actually a part of the island, making conversation easy even with her deep into meal prep.
“You’ll notice I love bright colors.”
This was true. There were strips of red and yellow bell peppers. Something green that Laney decided was zucchini. Dana spread a bed of rice on a plate, then spooned veggies, chicken and sauce atop it. She placed it in front of Laney.
“It looks and smells fantastic.”
“What would you like to drink?” Dana prepared another plate as she talked. “I have wine and water and I think I might have a couple of sodas.”
“Water would be great.” Wine would have been nice, too, but Laney was on the clock.
Once the drinks were prepared and Dana was settled on the stool next to Laney’s, they ate for a while before she broached her first question.
“You’ve been the principal at Shutter Lake School for a good many years now.”
“Seven,” Dana said, then sipped her wine.
“So you’ve known Vinn Bradshaw and his family for a while.”
“I have.”
Laney forked a pepper and took a bite. Let her friend think about the direction of the question for a moment. When she’d swallowed she asked, “have there ever been any problems with him? Not necessarily anything big, just little issues that you may have noticed.”
Another sip of wine and she turned to Laney. “Vinn is a very good boy. Quiet. Kind. Never in any sort of trouble. He’s very much a momma’s boy, so to speak. His father is quite demanding and I think perhaps that’s the reason he is more drawn to his mother. Honestly, I can’t say that I’ve ever noted any issues whatsoever with Vinn.”
“What about his parents? You’ve been around them at school functions. Basketball games. Anything you’ve noticed that seemed off or volatile?”
“His parents appear quite close.” She picked at her rice. “Happy as far as I can tell. Vinn has never complained about life at home. Generally if there are issues at home we hear about them at school or, at least, see the repercussions.”
Laney thought of what Duval and Fraley said about secrets. “You’ve never felt as if Vinn was hiding anything or covering up any secrets? His work has never suffered? No attitude issues?”
Dana paused, her wine midway to her mouth. “You know, there was a short period about three months ago when he seemed out of sorts. Nothing shocking, but noticeable. He maintains a perfect four point oh, but his grades did slip a little there for a week or two. Then he pulled everything back where it should be. But yes,” she met Laney’s gaze, “something must have happened. He never spoke about it, but there’s no other explanation.”
They ate for a while longer without speaking.
Dana asked, “Are you thinking Vinn knows something about what happened to Sylvia?”
Laney would like to say no, but that would be a lie. “We have reason to believe that he was aware of some issue going on with Sylvia prior to her murder. I’m not saying he was involved, but he knows something and he’s not sharing.”
“He wasn’t forthcoming in your interview?”
Laney shook her head. “The biggest thing we learned from the interview is that he’s very angry with his father. Was there something going on with his father when you noticed the slip in his grades?”
Dana put her fork down and sighed. “I wish I could tell you but he never talked to anyone about whatever was bothering him. Vinn is very private.”
“Does he have any particularly close friends he might confide in?”
“Vinn is well liked. I would absolutely say that anyone in his class would be considered a friend, but I think he’s closest to Kristina Sharapova. She’s a Russian exchange student living with the Windermeres.”
“Is she his girlfriend?” If so that could potentially downplay the idea that he was obsessed with Sylvia.
“No, I don’t think so. I think they’re just friends. They spend a good deal of time together. I always see them in the lunchroom seated at the same table. Any time they’re both in the same place, they stay close.”
Laney added the Sharapova girl to her list of people to interview. “Is there anyone else you think Vinn might talk to?”
“I suppose he might complain about his home life to any one of his classmates if the subject came up. I mean, it’s possible. Teenagers at times bemoan their lot in life to one another the same as we adults do.”
An idea occurred to Laney but she wasn’t sure the principal would be willing to go along with the plan. She would never know if she didn’t ask. “Dana, you also serve as the school psychologist.”
“That’s right. Our school is just too small to consider hiring another staff member and it’s difficult to find someone with those sorts of credentials who’s willing to accept a part time position and, possibly, to relocate.”
“As a psychologist you would want to take steps to reassure your students and perhaps to help them work through their feelings related to the murder. In a small town like this a violent act is far closer to home, so to speak. Most of the kids probably knew Sylvia, at least had met her.”
Dana hesitated a moment before responding. “We’ve had an assembly with the older students to discuss what happened, if that’s what you mean.”
“It is, yes. Have you considered having the older students, maybe the juniors and seniors write about how this tragedy affected them or someone they know?”
“Ah, I see where you’re going with this. If one appears to know something useful to the investigation, then I pass it along to you.”
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” Laney admitted, “but if it helps us find Sylvia’s murderer…”
“I don’t like using my students.”
Laney feared she would find the suggestion a little too scheming. “But if it helps the students protect themselves and the community, what’s the harm? There could be others who saw something or know something�
�as we suspect Vinn does—who are afraid to tell anyone.”
The thought gave Dana pause. Laney mentally crossed her fingers.
“Okay.” Dana nodded. “Since it’s Friday, I’ll take the weekend to figure out the best way to approach the request and I’ll let you know on Monday.”
“It can’t hurt,” Laney urged. “And there’s a chance it could help us find a killer.”
~
As Laney drove back through town, heading home, she surveyed the rows of lovely little shops in full fall and Halloween regalia. Folks on the sidewalks moved toward restaurants, talking and laughing. She made the turn, driving past City Hall. She’d almost passed it when she remembered she’d told McCabe she would lock up for the night. She hadn’t known when she left for Dana’s house that she was staying for dinner.
She parked and went inside. Everyone but the dispatcher and the hotline operator would be gone home or out on patrol. Laney waved at the two officers manning the phones. Usually there would only be the dispatcher but help was needed with the incoming hotline calls. She locked her office and McCabe’s and then headed back out. Another wave to the officers and she was out the door.
As she walked toward her vehicle the mayor waved to her. He was just coming from his office, which was next door to City Hall. At one time, she was told, the mayor’s office had taken up the biggest part of City Hall but then the shop next door became available and it was purchased to relocate the mayor and his staff into more suitable accommodations.
Laney stalled on the sidewalk. “Hey, Mayor Jessup. You’re working late tonight.”
“You appear to be as well, Deputy Holt.”
Thomas Jessup was the one person who balked at Laney’s title and salary. He’d thought it was foolish to have a chief and a deputy chief over only a handful of officers. McCabe had insisted he couldn’t expect a highly qualified detective to take the job without some incentive. The City Council had ignored the mayor’s suggestion and sided with the chief. Laney wasn’t sure the mayor realized she knew the disagreeable details. He was always friendly to her which she hoped meant he had accepted the circumstances.