by Dan Padavona
The female agent’s shadow passes over the upstairs window in the Walsh house. The spare room. She must feel his presence by now, senses him behind corners and in every shadow. She fears him. This makes him smile. He cannot see her face because the house is much darker than the midday sun. Only the hint of a silhouette. A specter in the glass. The male agent enters the house. Earlier he observed the agent paw around the property and considered entering the house while the man was in the backyard. It would have been so easy to kill the sheriff. Leave him bleeding behind the truck. Then he would edge the front door open, careful not to step upon broken glass and give himself away. Ascend the stairs.
Movement in the driveway catches his eye. Then he sees her and his heart freezes. The female agent.
She is more beautiful than he dreamed. Blonde hair that catches the light. Soft, red lips. He watches her move animatedly between the sheriff and the male agent, can’t hear what she’s saying but knows it’s about him. And Kacy.
He thinks the beautiful agent deserves the opportunity to meet Kacy in person, to come live with them and understand his only desire is to keep them safe.
“Why did I ever agree to let such a disgusting boy into my home?”
The woman’s voice makes him jump. His neck burns red where the seatbelt bites and pulls him down.
Pulse racing, he ensures the windows are still rolled up. Prays nobody heard the voice.
In the mirror, he spies the long metal trunk in the back of the van. Chains hooked to each side because it slides easily. She shouldn’t be able to talk inside the trunk, and this troubles him. At least she cannot hurt him anymore, not locked away. Does she know about Kacy?
“Answer me, filthy child.”
He opens his mouth to answer and nothing comes out. His throat is too dry. Heart climbs into his voice box and pounds.
His eyes lock on the mirrored image of the trunk. Somehow he feels safer watching the trunk through the mirror, as though spinning around to look directly at the case will cause the chains to snap apart and the top to fly open. Releasing her fury upon the world.
“M…mother.”
No reply. The tension rises inside the van.
“What do you want? Well, just don’t sit there with your tongue tied into knots. Say something. Or are you too simple to speak?”
He checks the side mirrors. None of the neighbors are on the road. Yet she is too loud. Someone will hear.
“Answer me!”
He swallows. For a moment, he sees the male agent’s head shoot up and look in his direction. They shouldn’t be able to see him through the tinted windows from this far away.
After a pause, the male agent rejoins the conversation.
As static pops from the AM radio, he begins to speak, shy and fearful initially before his confidence grows. Though she may scream, he holds the power now.
He tells Mother of his job and the many people he meets every day. Yes, he speaks freely with them, no longer feels the need to cower in the presence of others. The village respects him. He does not share with her his secret activities. She won’t approve and will yell again, and then the agents will hear.
When she doesn’t snap back at him, he continues with more conviction. He has a girlfriend. Yes, really. She is a very pretty girl, kind of heart and loyal. The words aren’t out of his mouth for more than a moment before he regrets them, wishes to pull them back. He braces himself, expecting Mother to demand he introduce Kacy to her.
Kacy. He must remember not to speak her name aloud, lest Mother learn her identity and seek her out.
At that moment, the female agent climbs into the Accord. While Mother tells him to continue, to tell her more about his new girlfriend, he waits for the male agent to join the woman. He doesn’t. Instead, he pulls himself up into Sheriff Lerner’s truck. The Ram’s engine growls, brake lights burning like hateful eyes. Like Mother’s eyes.
A cloud of dust kicks up as the truck speeds down Coral Hill. It winds around curves, and then he cannot see it anymore.
Now it is just the beautiful woman in the Accord. Alone in the driveway where he’d waited in darkness with the house key.
He clears his throat.
“And there is another woman, Mother.”
Yes, another woman. The beautiful agent. She could learn to love him, too.
CHAPTER SIX
Gardy and Bell split up to save time on their interviews. While Bell headed to the Deering house, Lerner drove Gardy into the village center.
Bathed in sunlight, the Coral Lake Suites stood on the lake shore, radiant and stately. There was no lobby to speak of in the boutique resort, just a hallway which led to three first-floor suites. Guests picked up keys at a sister resort down the road, Lerner had told him before wandering across the street to the cafe. An elevator gave access to the second and third floors. The Walshes were checked into 301.
The elevator stopped on the second floor, and an older woman in flip-flops and a sunbonnet stepped inside and pressed the button for the lowest floor. When the car moved again, she smiled and put a hand over her mouth.
“Oh, dear. I thought it was going down.”
“No worries. It’ll get you there eventually.”
Her eyes fluttered about the elevator, the woman obviously uncomfortable locked inside an elevator car with a complete stranger until she noticed his badge.
“You must be the agent everyone is talking about.”
“Ma’am?”
“The FBI person.”
He snickered.
“Agent Gardy. And I’m not alone.”
“Two agents?”
“Yes.”
“My goodness. Two secret agents in Coral Lake. It doesn’t seem possible.”
“We’re not secret agents, ma’am,” Gardy said, trying hard not to double over laughing. Already he could feel his chest tickle. “My partner and I work for the Behavior Analysis Unit.”
The woman gasped.
“You mean like that show on television? The one where they hunt for serial killers every week?”
Gardy’s shoulders shook.
“Something like that, yes.”
“Candice Squires,” she said, offering her hand.
“Neil Gardy. But I suppose you can see that from this unfortunate badge.”
She waved her curiosity away and shook her head.
“I’m terribly sorry for being nosy. It’s just that…” She looked down, the light gone from her eyes. “It’s so awful what happened to that girl. She was a senior in high school, her whole life ahead of her. Who would do such a thing?”
The elevator door opened on the third floor. Knowing the woman wasn’t done talking, Gardy held the door open. He hoped she wouldn’t keep him here too long. Gardy’s Aunt Loraine could trap you at the doorway for hours on end, firing conversation starters when you touched the doorknob.
“Did you know Kacy Deering, ma’am?”
“No, I can’t say I did, but in a village this small you know everyone’s names.”
Her eyes fell upon Gardy’s ring finger and realized he was single. For goodness’ sake, he thought. She’s profiling me.
“You know…” Her lips curled into a grin, eyes full of life again as she fished through her purse. She produced a wallet-size photo of a pretty woman with flowing auburn curls. “My niece, Jenna.”
Gardy shifted his feet.
“Isn’t she pretty?”
“I…uh…”
“She’s a real estate agent right here in Coral Lake. Oh, my. She’s an agent, just like you.”
Polite laughter.
“What a coincidence.”
Get me the hell out of here.
“I should give you her number. Wait just a second, I know it’s in here somewhere.”
He could see room 301. Just a few steps away if he could escape the elevator. The woman rummaged through her pocketbook again. She really was his Aunt Loraine.
“It’s not necessary, ma’am. I’ll be leaving town soon
.”
The woman sighed.
“Look at me making a fool of myself, trying to play matchmaker. It’s just that Jenna’s so successful and pretty, but lousy with relationships just like my sister. Jenna’s a good girl. She finally left that deadbeat husband of hers. The divorce hasn’t gone through yet, but—”
“I really should go. Hey, it’s such a beautiful afternoon. I bet you have a big day planned at the lake.”
She beamed.
“Why, yes. I’m meeting Trish and Irena at the Bluefish Grill, then we’re going on the boat cruise before Evelyn meets us at…”
“It was nice meeting you. And good luck to your niece.”
He could still hear her talking as the elevator closed and the car began its painfully slow descent to the first floor.
Gardy raised his hand to knock on 301 and stopped. He took a breath and steeled himself, remembering the Walshes lives had turned upside-down.
A pretty black woman with long braids opened the door on the first knock.
“Lyra Walsh? I’m Special Agent Gardy.”
“Yes, Mr. Gardy. We’ve been expecting you. Come in, please.”
Gardy tried not to whistle. He figured a room like this ran five or six hundred a night as she led him inside. A sliding glass door took up most of the back wall and led out to a balcony, beyond which the lake sparkled and swelled. In the center of the room, a young boy sat on the floor with a parent’s iPhone, tilting the phone and drumming his thumbs, lost inside a game.
“Nathan? The agent is here.”
The bathroom sink shut off, and Nathan Walsh came into the main room towel drying his face. His skin was lighter than Lyra’s, almost almond, hair cropped short. Nathan’s gray slacks were designer, probably worth more than Gardy’s entire wardrobe.
“Agent Gardy?”
Nathan shook his hand.
“Thank you for seeing me on short notice.”
“Of course. Please have a seat.”
Nathan sank into a cushioned armchair and pinched the bridge of his nose. Gardy sat across from him on the couch.
“My apologies for not answering the door,” the man said. “I’ve been fighting a migraine since morning.”
“Mr. Walsh, your family has been through a lot, and I don’t want to take up all of your time.”
“No need to apologize, Agent Gardy.” He put his arm around Lyra, who stood by his side. “As you can see I have my whole family together, and for that I’m thankful.”
Lyra pursed her lips.
“I wish we could say the same for the Deerings. Chase, why don’t you play your game in the bedroom so we can talk.”
Gardy watched the boy walk into the bedroom, shoulders slumped and feet dragging.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Gardy,” Lyra said, waiting for the door to close. “This has been hard on all of us. Chase just wants to go home and have his bedroom back.”
“I’m sure he does. Mr. Walsh, are you certain your son never heard anything?”
“Yes. Except for the upheaval, Chase is acting perfectly normal. He has no idea what happened.”
“I see. How well did you know Kacy Deering?”
Nathan shared a look with his wife.
“We’ve known her for about two years. Is that right?”
Lyra nodded.
“We met Kacy through the United Methodist Church on Grant Street. Chase was three then.” Lyra glanced at the bedroom door and ensured the boy wasn’t eavesdropping. “She came recommended as a babysitter, and we’d used her ever since.”
“Did she have any enemies?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Lyra said. “But then again she was a teenager, and sometimes kids develop rivalries.”
“What about at church? Did you ever notice anyone pay too much attention to Kacy?”
“Not that I can recall.”
Nathan rubbed the top of his head.
“We’ve been over all of this with the sheriff.”
“I realize that, Mr. Walsh, but I want to be thorough. Finding out who did this is my only priority.”
Lyra massaged Nathan’s shoulders.
“Kacy was a nice girl. Dependable. And she was good with Chase.”
“Kacy’s boyfriend was inside your house Friday night. She brought alcohol.”
Lyra glanced down at Nathan. His head tilted up and their eyes met.
“We suspected as much,” Lyra said. “Kacy understood she wasn’t to have friends over or drink when she babysat, but Nathan and I were teenagers once, too. She’d been with the Goodrich boy for a long time, at least since we moved to Coral Lake two years ago. You don’t suspect he was…involved, do you?”
“We’re looking into all possibilities.”
“I can’t imagine he’d do such a thing.”
“What about friends and family? Does anyone have access to your house?”
Nathan moved Lyra’s hands off his shoulders and rested his head against the chair.
“You mean extra keys?”
“Yes.”
“The killer broke the front door window, Agent Gardy. He didn’t need a key.”
“I understand, but it’s important we cover all bases.”
Nathan exhaled.
“Yes, a few people have keys. For one, there’s my brother, Kendall.”
“Where is Kendall now?”
“Kalamazoo. He hasn’t been to Coral Lake in over a year.”
“Where can I reach your brother?”
Nathan rolled his eyes and opened his wallet. When he found his brother’s business card, he handed it to Gardy, who copied the name and address and handed the card back.
“Thank you. Who else?”
“Well, there’s Clyde Sullivan next door. He keeps an eye on the house when we go south for the winter.”
It occurred to Gardy the Walshes were young to be snowbirds. Nathan recognized the question on Gardy’s face.
“I consult for technology firms, mostly small startups, but I’m sure you’ve looked into my background already. I set my own hours and work from anywhere, a nice luxury when it’s five below zero. Coral Lake might look like paradise, Agent Gardy, but check back in the middle of January.”
“What about Chase? Doesn’t he have school?”
“We home-school our son. It makes sense since we travel so often, and Lyra taught elementary school before my consulting work took off.”
Gardy leaned forward on his knees and studied his shoes for a moment.
“I need to ask you something else, and I hope you won’t take it the wrong way.”
When he looked up Nathan was glaring at him.
“Then ask your question, Agent Gardy.”
“Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt you or your family?”
“No, I cannot.” Challenge filled his eyes. “Are you suggesting someone might hurt us because we are black?”
Gardy noticed Coral Lake was predominantly white, but nothing suggested racist undertones existed in the affluent town.
“Please, Mr. Walsh. That’s not what I meant at all.”
Lyra went back to rubbing the tension out of Nathan’s shoulders. Nathan glared out the window.
“But it crossed your mind. Coral Lake has never been much for diversity, a blind man could see as much. And sure, the good townsfolk manage to misplace our invitations whenever the rich and famous hold their soirees. But this isn’t 1960s Mississippi. We are as much a part of the community as anyone.”
“I agree,” Lyra said, moving to sit upon the armrest. She held Nathan’s hand. “Whoever perpetrated this vicious act, I can assure you he wasn’t aiming for us.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The ashtray was a graveyard of shriveled cigarette butts. Stephanie Deering’s kitchen sink overflowed with dishes, the counter dabbed by sauce and what appeared to be a chunk of fat. Sitting across from Bell at the kitchen table, Stephanie’s hands trembled as she stacked a pile of spilled bills. She had Kacy’s eyes and facial features, Bell thought. Time an
d a smoking addiction had parched and shriveled her skin, colored the tips of her fingers yellow. She wore a bathrobe over an old pair of sweatpants.
“They won’t leave you alone, you know?”
Bell waved the smoke from her eyes and coughed into her hand as Deering fired up another cigarette. The tip glowed red and angry, then receded.
“Who won’t leave you alone?”
“Creditors. Nothing but a bunch of vultures.”
Bell knew from Lerner’s briefing the father had left them two years ago and the Deerings had money problems.
“How often did Kacy’s father contact her?”
Stephanie rolled her eyes.
“Christmas. Birthdays. That’s about it. Couldn’t be bothered the rest of the year.”
“Is he still in Sacramento?”
“Far as I know. He wouldn’t tell me if he moved, the son-of-a-bitch.”
Bell glanced down at Lerner’s notes.
“It says here you were working while Kacy babysat.”
“Story of my life. Soon as I finish at the restaurant, I waitress at Marilyn’s for another eight hours.”
“Marilyn’s. That’s out on route 20, right?”
“That’s right. About five miles out of town.”
“How did Kacy get to the Walsh’s?”
“She walked. It’s only five-minutes away.”
“Right, but afterward she’d have to walk in the dark.”
Stephanie pounded the table. The stack of bills toppled over and spread out like the loser’s hand in a game of poker. Fire flared in the woman’s eyes.
“You think I wanted her walking home alone? You’ve seen that hill. Nothing but blind curves and no shoulder to speak of. I did what I could, Agent Bell.” Stephanie picked up the bills and shook them. “Two jobs, and the rest of the time I cook and sleep. Someone had to pay the bills and save for college because you can bet her father wouldn’t have helped.”
A tear crawled out of her eye. She swiped it away.
“I’m sorry. None of this is your problem. I realize you’re just trying to find who did this. Would you do that, agent? Would you find who hurt my girl?”