Leslie sighed and rubbed her eyes wearily. “I don’t know,” she responded. “Lincoln and I are still mending our relationship, trying to get to know one another again. He doesn’t like to talk about his time in Mexico, so I don’t ask him. And, while he’s rejected many of the Colony’s teachings, he still has a thing about big government and the police. He’s not likely to be very cooperative, to tell you the truth.”
Dawn decided to switch things up a little. Producing the sketch that Devlin had made of the suspect, she handed it to Leslie, saying, “Take a look at this, will you?”
As Leslie studied the sketch, Dawn asked, “Do you recognize him?”
Leslie shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Are you sure? Is there a possibility it could be someone from the Colony? Maybe one of the boys, only grown up now.”
“It was so long ago. People change. And I didn’t see much of the boys. Jed believed in separating the sexes as much as possible. Women were to hang out with other women, and men with men. Same thing with the children. He didn’t approve of much intermingling.” She handed the sketch back to Dawn.
Dawn pulled out the photograph of the medallion that the Search and Rescue team had found and passed it over to Leslie.
“What about this?”
Leslie accepted the bag, and a startled expression crossed her face.
“Where did you get this?” she asked.
Ignoring the question, Dawn said, “Do you recognize it?”
“Yes. It belonged to Jed’s wife. He had her name engraved on it.”
“His first wife, you mean?”
“No, I’m talking about his second wife.”
“His second wife? Her name was Rhonda.”
“Not when I knew her. Jed frequently gave members of the group new names. He never called his wife Rhonda. Within the group, he always called her Serenity.”
Dawn met Rick’s eyes. Click. Another connection between the two cases.
Rick jumped into the conversation then, saying, “Leslie, we were able to trace most of the children who grew up alongside of yours in the Colony, but three of them appear to have gone missing: Shawn and Nerissa Weirsman, and their cousin, Maurice Orweill. Do you know anything about them?”
Leslie averted her eyes. “I don’t know anything for certain, but I heard a rumor that they were in Mexico.”
“A rumor from whom? I thought you said you didn’t keep in touch with anyone else from the Colony. Unless your son told you?”
Leslie averted her eyes once again.
“Leslie. Please. It’s important.”
“I didn’t hear about it from my son. Like I said, he doesn’t talk much about Mexico. But maybe I do keep in touch with someone who originally went to Mexico with the rest of the group. Another mother. Look, I don’t want to get her involved in this. She returned to the U.S. years ago and wants to distance herself from the whole thing.”
“Would she talk with us?”
“Probably not.”
“What about you? If you asked her, would she talk to you about the case?” When Leslie still hesitated, Dawn prodded gently, “Look – the three of them – Shawn, Nerissa, and Maurice – are adults now. If your friend admits that she knows where they are, she won’t get into any trouble.”
“Why is it important to you to know?”
“We’re looking at anyone who was in the group. We’d like to be able to eliminate some of them as suspects.”
Leslie still didn’t budge, so Dawn said, “How about this? What if you call you friend and ask her?”
“Ask her about Shawn, Nerissa, and Maurice?”
“Yes. Also, about anyone with the group in Mexico who might have made threats against Samantha.”
“I can do that. I’m going into the other room, though.”
“Suit yourself.”
Leslie returned about fifteen minutes later.
“My friend confirmed that all three joined the Colony in Mexico. She’s not sure how, but somehow the leaders of the group arranged to bring them down there. She also told me that Shawn was one to shoot his mouth off a lot. He blamed Samantha for all their troubles, and kept urging the leaders to form a task force to go back to the U.S. and ‘take out’ Samantha. He said he wanted her dead, and if no one else would go with him, he’d take care of it himself.”
Leslie cast her eyes down as she admitted, “That’s the first time I’ve heard of anything like that. I didn’t realize that there had been any recent threats against Samantha’s life.”
“Your friend didn’t mention it before? Not even after Samantha disappeared?”
“No. You see, neither of us believed Samantha was dead. In fact, my daughter, who was fairly close to Samantha, still believes that Samantha faked her own death.”
Puzzled, Dawn queried, “Why would she believe that?”
“Heather told me that Samantha fantasized about it sometimes. Just faking her own death and starting over as an entirely different person, with a blank slate.”
“Would Heather agree to talk to us?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Let me call her.”
A short time later, Leslie informed Dawn and Rick, “Heather was hesitant at first, but I was able to convince her to talk to you.”
“Where does she live?”
“Not far away.”
*****
On their way to Heather’s house, Rick said, “So, how did the perp end up with a medallion that belonged to Samantha’s mother?”
“She was still married to Jed Foxe when she died,” Dawn replied. “All her belongings would have gone to him.”
“He wouldn’t have been allowed to keep them in prison.”
“No, but he could have directed how they were to be distributed after he died.”
“That’s something we need to follow up on, pronto.”
“I’ll contact my team, have them get on it while we’re interviewing Heather.”
“Good plan. I don’t want to waste any time on a lead like this one, and it looks like we’re almost there.”
When they reached Heather’s house, Leslie walked up to the door, gave a cursory knock, turned the handle and walked in, signaling Dawn and Rick that they should follow.
Inside, a scene of chaos awaited them. Cushions had been pulled off the sofa and easy chairs and piled on the floor. Two card tables had been pushed against the sofa. All were draped with blankets.
Leslie stopped and surveyed the scene with amusement. “Heather?” she called. “Are you here? It looks like your living room has been transformed into a tent.”
“I’m in the kitchen, Mom,” a voice called out. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
Meanwhile, two small heads had popped out of the entrance to the tent. One of them scowled and said, “Friend or foe?”
“Neither,” Leslie responded laughingly. “I’m a grandmother. We’re in a whole separate category. And the first thing we expect is lots of hugs and kisses.”
At that, two small boys emerged from the tent. Leslie knelt down and opened her arms. With a joint whoop, the two boys charged and began smothering her in hugs and kisses.
When the chaos had subsided, one of them peered over Leslie’s shoulder and gave Dawn and Rick a very thorough once-over. Tugging at his grandmother’s shoulder he said, “Who’s that, Grandma?”
Leslie straightened up. “Just a couple of friends of mine.”
The words were hardly out of her mouth when a pretty, petite young woman emerged from the kitchen. Her face was flushed, and as she approached she blew out a breath, as if she had just finished a marathon. Like her mother, she had blonde hair and blue eyes.
“Hi, Mom,” she said, walking up to her mother and giving her a big hug. She turned and looked at Dawn and Rick inquiringly.
Leslie met her daughter’s eyes and said, “Why don’t I take the boys outside and play? I’ll let our guests introduce themselves.”
“Good idea, Mom,” Heather responded. Addressing her
sons, she said, “Go get your coats and shoes on, boys.”
It took only minutes for the two of them to get ready. Then Leslie opened a sliding glass door and took the boys into the back yard.
Heather, glancing around, said, “Just give me a minute, and I’ll make this place habitable again. Then we can sit down and get acquainted. She picked one of the blankets up and began to fold it.
“I can help you with that,” Dawn offered.
“And I can take the card tables down for you,” Rick added with a charming smile.
“Thanks,” Heather said gratefully. “It’s astonishing how much havoc two small boys can wreak in a very short time.”
Soon the blankets and the two card tables were folded up and put away. Cushions were restored to the sofa and the easy chairs.
When they were finished, Heather seated herself on the sofa and waved at the two chairs.
“Please, sit down, Detective …?”
On cue, Dawn responded, “I’m Detective Cimarron, from the Mountpelier Police Department. This is Special Agent Rikovsky from the Colorado Bureau of Investigation.”
“Mom said that you’re here about Samantha.”
“Yes.”
She turned to Rick. “Mom says you don’t think much about my idea that Samantha faked her own death. In fact, she got the impression that you think Samantha is dead. Is that true?”
When Dawn and Rick didn’t answer immediately, Heather said, “I see. So you do think she’s dead. Isn’t there at least a chance she’s still alive?”
Dawn said gently, “There’s always a chance, but for a person who’s been missing as long as Samantha has, there’s not much hope that she’s still alive. I’m sorry.”
“I’m grasping at straws, I know. But Samantha was always so strong…” Heather paused for a minute, and a tear slid down her cheek.
“Talk to us, Heather,” Dawn encouraged. “Tell us more about Samantha.”
Heather wiped away the tears that were now flowing freely down her cheeks. Reaching for a tissue, she blew her nose and cleared her throat. Then she continued her story.
“When we were at the Colony, most of us girls were cowed, just cowed. We were afraid of our own shadows. But not Samantha. She’d led a more normal life and had developed far more skills than the majority of the other girls.
“I’d been home-schooled most of my life, for example. You know that the group felt that there was no need for the women to receive anything but the most basic education, right? Reading, writing, basic arithmetic – that was all we were taught. The main focus was on developing ‘womanly’ skills, like cooking and sewing and housekeeping. And most of us had hardly ever been in a car, let alone had any idea of how to drive one. But it was different for Samantha. She’d lived a normal life with her aunt and uncle for several years before her mother retrieved her and brought her to the Colony. She had even learned how to drive.”
“How had she learned that?” Dawn asked curiously.
“Her aunt and uncle owned a weekend place with lots of property and private roads. They kept some ATVs up there. Her uncle taught Samantha how to drive them from the time she was really little. He even let her practice driving his car on the private roads there.”
Heather’s face lit up, and there was gleeful satisfaction in her tone as she said, “Jed Foxe didn’t know that. It never occurred to him that Samantha would actually have the know-how to drive out of there, if she ever got the opportunity.”
“And she got the opportunity when…?” Dawn prompted.
“She got it one night when he got drunk. In public, Jed was death on alcohol. No one in the group was permitted to use it. But he himself drank in secret. He may have kept that fact hidden from the rest of us, but there was no way he could hide it from Samantha. She waited until he got good and wasted one night, stole his car keys, and got away.”
A timer began to buzz from the direction of the kitchen. Heather jumped up, saying, “Excuse me. I was in the middle of baking bread. I need to go punch it down.”
Rick turned to Dawn, confused. “She’s going to punch a loaf of bread?”
“Not a loaf – just the dough. With some bread recipes, after the first rising, you have to punch it down, knead it a little, and then let it rise again.”
“That’s just weird,” Rick commented.
Dawn was about to reply when she caught a glimpse of movement from the hallway. A toddler stood there, a little boy of perhaps two years old, a stuffed tiger in his arms, his eyes wide with curiosity.
“Hello,” Dawn said with a smile.
The toddler walked into the room and stared at Dawn solemnly. Transferring his stuffed animal from one arm to the other, he extended it toward Dawn.
“Tiger,” he announced.
“Yes, and he looks like a tough customer,” Dawn responded. “Is he very fierce?”
Putting a thumb into his mouth, the boy nodded. Just then, Heather re-emerged from the kitchen.
“Timmy!,” she said. “How did you get out of your bed?”
“Climbed out,” Timmy said succinctly.
Heather met Dawn’s eyes. “Guess it’s time to put the crib away and get him a big-boy bed,” she sighed.
Timmy nodded. “Big-boy bed,” he agreed. He walked over to where Dawn was seated, handed her his tiger, and proceeded to climb into her lap. Settling himself comfortably, he took his tiger back.
Dawn stroked his head and laughed.
“He’s not shy at all, is he?” she said to Heather. “So many children are at this age.”
“He’s not usually so friendly, but he’s a real lady’s man,” Heather answered with a grin. “Notice how he completely ignored your partner.”
Dawn looked down at Timmy again.
“Is that it?” she inquired. “Are you a lady’s man?”
Timmy giggled and nodded.
Then his attention was drawn by a noise. Scrambling off Dawn’s lap, he raced over to the sliding glass door. “Grandma!” he said excitedly.
“Yes, Grandma is here,” his mother agreed. “Let’s get your coat and shoes on, and then you can go outside and join her and your brothers.”
While Heather went to get the boy’s jacket from the closet by the front door, Timmy disappeared back down the hallway and then reemerged with a pair of sneakers. Climbing back onto Dawn’s lap, he looked at her expectantly. Dawn obliged and put his sneakers on him. When that task had been completed, Heather bundled him into his jacket and took him outside to join the others.
While Dawn and Rick were waiting for Heather to return, Rick commented, “Funny. I wouldn’t have expected you to get along so easily with children.”
“You thought I didn’t like children? You know, maybe it’s a fortunate thing that I caught you with your girlfriend before we went through with the wedding. It looks like we never really knew each other at all.”
Rick swallowed hard and opened his mouth, but then shut it again, not making any reply.
When Heather returned and reseated herself, Dawn showed her the sketch of the suspect and asked her if she could identify the man it portrayed.
Heather looked closely at the sketch, but then shook her head. “I don’t recognize him,” she confessed as she handed the sketch back to Dawn. “But that doesn’t mean it couldn’t be one of the boys from the Colony. It’s been so many years since I’ve seen any of them, I probably wouldn’t recognize them now even if we met face-to-face.”
“Okay. Here’s another question for you: while you were still in the Colony, did you know Shawn and Nerissa Weirsman?”
“I knew Nerissa pretty well. She was a couple of years younger than I, but we hung out in the same group. As for Shawn – I didn’t know him very well at all.”
“What about their cousin, Maurice Orweill?”
“I didn’t know Maurice very well either. Only Nerissa.”
“Did you keep in touch with Nerissa after you left the Colony?”
Heather shook her head vigorously. �
�No. Absolutely not. Once we left, I was done with them. I didn’t want anything to do with any of them. Not even my own father. That’s a chapter of my life I want to put far behind me. The only one I kept in touch with was Samantha, because she was the one who brought the whole group down and saved all of us.”
“How often did you speak with Samantha?”
“Maybe once every other week or so?”
“What about the week before she disappeared?”
“Yeah, I talked with her.”
“How did she sound? Did anything seem out of the ordinary?”
“No – not at all. I talked about my husband and my kids, Samantha talked about her job and her boyfriend – the usual.”
“What did she say about her boyfriend?”
“They’d had a lot of arguments lately. Heated words, that sort of thing.”
“Anything physical?”
“No. No way. Samantha wouldn’t have stayed with him if he’d ever gotten physical with her. That’s why I never believed he had anything to do with her disappearance. But getting back to the others, why are you so curious about Nerissa and Maurice and Shawn?”
When neither Rick nor Dawn answered immediately, Heather said, “Oh, my God. You think that Shawn or Maurice might have had something to do with it, don’t you?”
“We’re not sure of anything right now, Heather.” Dawn answered. “We’re just considering possibilities and trying to eliminate some people.”
“Let me see that sketch again,” Heather demanded.
Dawn handed it back to her, and Heather stared at it intently. Finally, she shook her head and handed it back.
“It’s been too long,” she confessed. “It’s been so many years since I’ve seen any of them. But if you want to talk to someone who knew Shawn and Maurice pretty well back in the day, you should talk to my brother.”
“We’d like to, but your mother seems to think there isn’t much of a chance that he’d agree to talk to us.”
Heather hesitated. “Let me try,” she said. “I’ll give him a call, see if I can persuade him. If I can convince him that someone from the Colony is responsible for what happened to Samantha, he might just decide to cooperate. He’s still pretty steamed about the way they treated him and Lisa.”
When the Wolf Prowls: A Cimarron/Melbourne Thriller - Book Three Page 16