“Big baby. You taught me to drive like this, you know. So what happens next? Rachel is scared. She’s fed up.”
“Right. She calls a friend and says, ‘Get me out of here.’ And she’s gone.”
“Okay,” Maggie acknowledged. “Then why not take her own car? Why not pack some clothes to take with her?”
Stride bit his lip, thinking. “Panic, maybe. She doesn’t want to be found, and the car is easy to trace. She doesn’t want to stick around another minute, even to pack. Maybe she thinks Graeme is going to try again, so she doesn’t even go in the house with him.”
Maggie turned off the main road and onto the lonelier highway leading to the airport. She immediately accelerated to seventy-five miles an hour, and the dashboard began to vibrate. “If we’re right, that means someone knew that Rachel was alive. And whoever it was didn’t come forward, even with an innocent man on trial for murder.”
Stride nodded. “If Rachel told him what happened at the barn, maybe he thought Graeme was getting what he deserved.”
“And why didn’t Graeme explain what happened?”
“Graeme? Tell the truth?” Stride laughed. “Forget it. If he admitted having sex with the girl, he was toast. I’m sure Gale told him that. No one would believe his story. He was better off saying none of it happened.”
“Okay, take your theory one more step. Who’s the mysterious friend?”
“I don’t know,” Stride said. “It never seemed to me that Rachel had any friends. At least no one she would really trust.”
“Except Kevin.”
Stride nodded. “Yeah. Except Kevin. But can you picture him staying quiet? He doesn’t seem like a smooth enough liar to have pulled it off on the witness stand.”
“Well, how about Sally? We know she was hiding something. Hell, we know she went to Rachel’s house that night. And I don’t imagine she would have been unhappy to see Rachel go away forever, where she couldn’t bother Kevin anymore.”
Stride put the pieces together in his head. “That’s an interesting theory.”
“You think we should talk to her?”
“Definitely,” Stride said. “Rachel won’t be coming back to seduce Kevin, and Stoner’s out of the picture. Maybe she’ll tell the truth this time.”
Maggie turned left onto the entrance road into the Duluth airport and continued along the curving road that led up to the terminal building. The terminal was barely a football field in length, built in the shape of a triangle and dominated by a steep chocolate brown roof. Maggie pulled up to the far end of the terminal and parked, leaving her police placard on the dashboard. They proceeded through the giant revolving doors into the lower level of the terminal, which was almost empty, and took the escalator up to the second level. Country music played softly on the speakers overhead. Stride recognized Vince Gill’s gentle croon.
They still had a long wait before the plane arrived. He dropped a quarter in a pinball machine, a two-level model decorated with a huge-busted girl in a micro-mini pointing a gun at his face and squealing, “Hit me.” He had been pretty good at pinball in his high school days, but unlike riding a bicycle, it didn’t come right back to him. He lost the first ball straight down the middle. The second danced around at the top, winning him a few thousand points, before slipping around the graveyard corridor on the left. By the third ball, he had some of his rhythm back, swiveling his hips as he banged the flippers with the heels of his hands. Maggie went and got a Coke from a vending machine and drank it as she watched him play.
“Does this cop from Vegas think someone from Duluth killed her?”
Stride shrugged without taking his eyes off the machine. “She didn’t say. She just said the trail leads here.”
“Serena Dial,” Maggie said. “She sounded sharp on the phone. I bet she’s a looker.”
“Why’s that?”
“She’s from Vegas. All the girls in Vegas are gorgeous.”
“I’ve never been there,” Stride said.
“You need to get out more, boss.”
“Well, my idea of a vacation is being alone in the woods, not surrounded by thousands of people in Coney Island.” He got distracted and almost lost the last ball, but rescued it with a nifty flip at the last second.
“Alone?” Maggie asked.
“You know what I mean.”
The building quivered as loud thunder rumbled around them, a jet engine bellowing as a plane landed on the runway outside. Stride noticed a ticket agent, chewing gum, emerge from the escalator and head toward Gate 1. He took his eyes from the machine long enough to let the silver ball slip past the flipper, ending the game.
He and Maggie headed for the gate area.
“How will we recognize her?” Maggie asked.
“We’ll wing it.”
Recognizing Serena wasn’t a problem. All of the passengers on the jet were typical Minnesotans, dressed in quiet clothes, blending into their surroundings, not attracting attention. Except for Serena Dial. She stuck out from the other passengers as loudly as a piece of crystal amid a row of Burger King plastic cups. She was dressed in baby blue leather pants that clung to her long legs like a second skin. A silver chain belt looped around her waist, with the ties dangling between her legs. She wore an undersized white T-shirt that didn’t reach far enough to cover the last inch of skin on her flat stomach. Her black leather raincoat draped almost to her ankles. She had glossy black hair, loose and luscious.
“Wow,” Maggie said.
Stride couldn’t remember when he had seen a more attractive woman in his life. It occurred to him that, had Rachel grown up, she might have looked just like her.
Serena stopped at the end of the gate area and studied the people from behind her honey-colored sunglasses. She picked out Stride and Maggie immediately, and with a hint of a smile, she glided over to them. Everyone nearby followed her every move, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“You Stride?” she asked. With her heels on, she was as tall as Stride, and she looked right at him.
“That’s right.” He found himself holding eye contact with her. Flirting. “This is my partner, Maggie Bei, who spreads lies about me on the phone.”
“It’s Sorenson,” Maggie said. “He forgets I’m married.” She took note of the way Stride and Serena were looking at each other and smirked. “Apparently, he forgets that he is, too.”
Stride shot Maggie an evil glance, and she quickly stuck out her tongue at him.
“I love your uniform,” Maggie added. “Do all the chick cops in Vegas get to wear that?”
Serena stripped off her sunglasses and studied Maggie from head to toe. Her smile curled into something more wicked. “Only the chick cops with tits, sweetie.”
Maggie laughed out loud. She turned to Stride. “I like her.”
Stride took another glance at Serena’s body and didn’t try to hide his interest. He felt something electric when she looked back. “You’re in Minnesota now,” Stride told Serena. “There’s a dress code.”
“You mean boring?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, you guys don’t seem so boring,” Serena said.
Maggie laughed. “Wait until you get to know us.”
They headed out of the gate area. Heads continued to rotate in Serena’s direction as she passed by. Maggie and Stride lingered a few steps behind, and Maggie, laughing, leaned closer and whispered, “Do you two want to be alone?”
“Oh, shut up,” Stride retorted.
On the lower level, they retrieved a hard-sided blue Samsonite suitcase that matched Serena’s leather pants. Stride lifted the case off the carousel and gasped under the weight.
“Holy shit, did you bring the body with you?”
Serena laughed. “Oh, sorry, would that not be correct procedure here?”
They returned through the revolving doors. The air was still warm, but a breeze rolled in across the hills. Serena put on her sunglasses again and took a deep breath. “God, that’s great. Fresh air.
Feels like winter.”
“Well, it’s a little cooler in winter,” Stride said.
“Like a hundred degrees cooler,” Maggie said.
Serena nodded. “Yeah, I looked up Minnesota on the Web, and it pretty much sounded like the icebox of the nation. But this is nice. It’s a buck twenty back home. Hot. Preheat your oven sometime, then stick your face inside. That’s Vegas.”
“I was married in Reno,” Maggie told her.
“Yeah? I like Reno. I love the mountains. I keep telling myself someday I’ll get the hell out of the desert.”
“You married?” Maggie asked her.
Serena shook her head. “No.”
They reached Maggie’s SUV. Serena clambered into the backseat and leaned casually over the front seat to talk with Stride as they got inside. Stride felt her elbow grazing his neck and could smell a hint of perfume. Her breath was sweet. He was uncomfortably aware of everything about her.
“You’re absolutely sure the body you found in the desert is Rachel Deese?” Maggie asked her.
Serena nodded. “I’m sure. Prints matched what you put in the system. Plus, a witness identified her photo from a news clipping. Sorry about that. I know it puts you guys in an awkward position.”
“We’re used to that,” Maggie said, chuckling.
“Does anyone else out here know about this yet?” Serena asked.
Stride shook his head. “Just us and the chief. I didn’t want it leaking out. I thought we could break the news to her mother first. It’ll hit the papers and television as soon as we start talking to people.”
“Yeah, I imagine this will be big news around here. I read the newspaper report. Bizarre case. If I were you, I would have thought she was dead, too.”
“Thanks,” Stride said.
“Anyway, after we tell the mother, I guess we should open up the case files and start investigating the girl’s friends and anyone else who knew her.”
Stride twisted around in his seat. Their faces were only a couple of inches apart. “How’s that going to help solve a murder in Vegas?”
Serena took off her sunglasses again, and Stride looked into her jade-green eyes. Originally, when he saw her walk off the plane, he thought she was younger than she was, but close up, he could see the maturity in her face. Her smile lines were deep. She must have been in her midthirties, which to Stride was still young, but her face was etched with an older, wiser sensibility. Her smile came often and easily, and her eyes joked with him, but there was also a distance, a lack of trust, that hovered between them like a thin film. He wondered if it was because she sensed the same sexual chemistry between them that he did.
He realized she hadn’t answered his question.
“Well, Serena?” Maggie asked, giving them both a sideways glance.
“I take it you guys are familiar with the Range Bank,” Serena said.
“Sure,” Stride said. “I bank there, along with half the city. What difference does that make?”
Serena leaned even closer. “CSI found part of an ATM receipt from the Range Bank in Rachel’s apartment. So either she was back here recently or someone from home paid her a visit.”
39
Stride picked up Serena at the motel on Friday morning just after nine o’clock. He knocked on her door, and when she answered, her black hair was damp from a recent shower, and her skin glowed. She had toned down her wardrobe, wearing a faded pair of blue jeans, a snug navy T-shirt, and cowboy boots. She flashed a welcoming smile.
“Hey, Stride,” she said. “Come on in. I’m almost ready.”
Her shower had left the tiny room humid and fragrant. The mirror beside the television was steamed over. He saw her suitcase open on the bureau, her clothes folded inside. A queen-sized bed was squeezed between the walls.
“Sorry about the room,” he said. “Summer’s the busy season here.”
Serena shrugged. “That’s all right.”
She sat on the edge of the bed and began to put on tiny silver earrings. Her fingertips seemed to caress her earlobes. Stride found he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Serena looked up and noticed and, after a long moment, glanced nervously away.
“I called Rachel’s mother on the cell phone on the way over,” he said, feeling awkward. “I finally got through to her. We can stop there first.”
“Did you break the news?”
Stride shook his head. “No, I just said I wanted to talk to her. She probably suspects.”
Serena stood up. They were close enough to kiss, and Stride felt a wild desire to do just that.
“We better go,” he said.
Outside, they climbed into Stride’s truck. The seats were coming apart, and he had covered the dashboard with Post-it notes related to various investigations. A day-old mug of coffee was lodged in the cup holder, and part of the Duluth newspaper was strewn on the floor.
Serena saw his embarrassment and smiled. “Don’t worry. I like a truck with that lived-in look. How old’s the coffee?”
“Old.”
“You guys got a Starbucks near here?”
“Sure. But I usually go to McDonald’s. It’s hot and cheap. Want to drive through?”
“Okay,” she said. “But I may hit you up for some real coffee later.”
They got two steaming cups of coffee, and Stride threw out the old one. He also ordered some hash browns and munched them as they drove. Serena dangled her arm outside the truck. The breeze whipped in and mussed her newly brushed hair. She sipped her coffee. Stride stole glances at her, and once or twice, she looked back his way. They didn’t say much.
A few islands of fog lingered on the road. He switched on his headlights as he drove in and out of the patches of mist. At the crest of the hill, overlooking the rest of the city, he saw Serena lean forward, staring down at the hints of lake visible through the haze.
“This is amazing,” she murmured. “When you live in the desert for a long time, you forget about water and trees.”
“I’ve never been to the desert,” Stride said.
“Never? You should go. It’s beautiful in its own way.”
“Are you from Las Vegas originally?” Stride asked.
“No, Phoenix.” He watched her green eyes grow distant, and he guessed that he had stumbled onto sensitive ground. “I moved to Vegas with a girlfriend when I was sixteen,” she added.
“Young,” he said, wondering what she had been running away from. Serena didn’t explain.
Stride followed the curving road down to the freeway and headed south, which was the fastest route toward the neighborhood in which Emily and Dayton Tenby lived. They had gotten married while Emily was still in prison, and she had been paroled six months ago.
“I’m freezing,” Serena said, rubbing her arms.
“I’ve got a sweater in the trunk. You want to borrow it?”
Serena nodded. She wrinkled her nose. “I smell cigarettes. Do you smoke?”
“I used to,” Stride admitted. “I finally quit about a year ago. The smell lingers in here.”
“Was it tough to quit?”
Stride nodded. “But I saw another guy on the force die of cancer last year. He was only about ten years older. That scared me.”
“Good for you,” Serena said.
Stride found Dayton and Emily’s house without difficulty. It was only two blocks from the church that he and Maggie had visited in the snow more than three years earlier. He parked on the street and retrieved a rust-colored wool pullover sweater from his trunk. Serena shrugged it over her shoulders as they walked up the driveway. She pushed the sleeves up to bare her forearms.
“You’re a life saver,” she told him and squeezed his arm.
Emily answered the bell at once. He expected that prison would have aged her, but if anything, she looked younger than she had during the dark days of the trial. Her makeup was neat, her lipstick smoothed and red. Her blue eyes, once sullen and dead, were bright again, and her dark hair was cut in a cute bob. She wore a pair
of brown slacks and a loose-fitting white cotton blouse.
“Hello, Lieutenant,” she said. “It’s been a long time.”
“Yes, it has. You’re looking well, Mrs. Tenby.”
“Please, call me Emily,” she said pleasantly.
“Of course. And this is Serena Dial. She’s with the police in Las Vegas, Nevada.”
Emily’s eyebrows rose. “Las Vegas?”
Serena nodded. Emily’s lips pursed in concern. She pulled the door open farther, inviting them in.
“Dayton is in the living room. I’m sorry you weren’t able to reach us last night. We got your message, but we got home very late. Our flight into the Cities was delayed by two hours, and then we still had to drive north.”
“Were you on vacation?” Serena asked.
“Partly, and partly work for Dayton. There was a national church convention in San Antonio, down by the River Walk. We added on a few extra days to make a week out of it.”
She guided them into the living room. Dayton Tenby was seated on the sofa, and he immediately got up and extended his hand to both of them. Dayton’s hair was now completely gray, although there was little of it left, except around the crown of his narrow skull. He had put on a few pounds, enough to make him look less gaunt than he had when Stride first met him. He wore gray dress pants, a starched white shirt, and a black acrylic vest.
Emily and Dayton sat down next to each other on a love seat and held hands. Stride and Serena sat opposite them on the sofa. Stride could see that marriage had agreed with both of them. Despite more than ten years’ difference in age between them, they seemed to be happy.
“I want you to know, Lieutenant, that I still don’t regret what I did,” Emily said. “I don’t mind paying my debt to society, but if I had it to do over again, I would do the same thing.”
Stride hesitated. “I understand.”
Dayton looked at them. “We don’t expect that this is a social call. You must have some news for us.”
“Yes, we do,” Stride said. “I want you to understand that this could be very upsetting.”
“You found her,” Emily said.
“Yes, we did. But not in the circumstances you might expect. Earlier this week, Ms. Dial was called to a location in the desert just outside of Las Vegas. A young girl’s body was found there. I’m afraid it was Rachel.” He paused and went on. “She had only been dead for a short time. Just a few days. It appears that Rachel was actually alive these past three years.”
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