Chase smiled at what were obviously happy memories.
“Two. They came every year and we had a blast. They didn’t care that my family wasn’t rich and I didn’t care that they were. But I learned a great deal attending that camp every summer. The most important thing being that money doesn’t give you class, smarts, or manners.”
Bailey couldn’t agree more. “What was she like?”
Chase rubbed his chin. “Smart. Pretty. Popular. All the boys liked her and I could see why. I had a little crush on her myself. She had long blonde hair and blue eyes, plus she looked good in a bikini, which was the main criteria for a teenage boy. The other girls her age didn’t give the younger boys the time of day but she’d always say hello to me. She was…different.”
“Did she have a boyfriend?” Bailey asked. “It’s always the boyfriend when you see something like this on television.”
“She had lots of boyfriends from what I could see but no one special person. At least not that I noticed, but you have to remember that my friends didn’t hang around her friends. Even at Saturday dances, the age groups kept to themselves. And my group of friends were pretty much ostracized from everyone else.”
Josh leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “What happened the night she was killed? What do you remember?”
Chase stood and paced the small area between the chair and the kitchen. “I’ve thought about this again and again through the years but it was just a night like any other night. We’d all had dinner in the dining hall and then down to the campfire for s’mores and music. The couples were dancing and the singles were hanging out talking about who knows what. School in the fall or some shit like that. I don’t even really remember. Eventually it got late and the couples wandered off down to the river. That was the make-out spot. They’d all go there after the adults went to bed.”
Bailey took a sip of her drink, her heart still beating way too fast, wondering if he would say something that would link Gwen to Frank. “Did Gwen go with someone?”
“She must have although I don’t know who. She was dancing with several guys and then when I noticed later she was gone. The official story was that she went back to her cabin with her friends but I doubt that. The older kids didn’t go to bed early and her girlfriends were all with the boys. I think they were covering for her and themselves. They didn’t want the adults knowing what they were doing.”
“Maybe she didn’t feel well,” Bailey suggested. “If she had a headache or something she might have gone back to her cabin and then out for some fresh air later.”
“That’s possible,” Chase conceded. “The last time I saw her was at the campfire. That’s all I know. The next morning her cabinmates alerted the staff she was missing. A search was carried out and they found her body down by the river. I remember this part like it was yesterday. My dad was white as a sheet and he told me to stay in the dining hall with the other kids. They’d gathered us all there to keep us out of the way but being the little shit I was at the time I didn’t listen. I’d never seen my father that upset and I wanted to know why so I snuck down to the river and hid behind some trees. I saw them put her into a body bag. She had been wearing white shorts and a light blue shirt and they were both covered with blood. There was blood on her legs and in her hair too. It was gruesome and believe me it made an impression on a fifteen year old boy.”
“Did the police talk to everyone?” Josh asked. “Did you make a statement?”
“We all did but no one saw her after midnight.”
“Everyone had an alibi?”
“As far as I know.” Chase drank a long swallow of his beer. “I do know they talked to all the teenage boys and even all the counselors and coaches. I remember my dad and mom talking about it that fall and how they didn’t have any suspects. People were even beginning to believe there was a roaming killer in the woods. All those horror movies, if you know what I mean.”
“Do you remember the names of the boys that liked her?” Bailey asked. “Maybe we could start with them? Maybe they knew Frank.”
“I’m bad with names but I have photos stored away. My parents did a little booklet every year, sort of like a memory book. People passed them around and signed them. I have one for every year from about 1985 forward. I’m sure I could point the boys out. Her friends too.”
Bailey had seen dozens of Frank’s friends over the years at parties, weddings, funerals, and the occasional reunion or fundraiser. If there was a picture of them in the camp, she would find them. For the first time since she’d arrived, she allowed herself to feel hope.
After they all moved over to Chase’s place, Josh helped him carry down the dusty boxes from the attic into the living room. This was the first time Chase was glad his parents had been packrats. They’d saved everything from their time running the camp and he’d shoved it all up in the attic instead of going through it.
His laziness regarding organization and clutter had finally paid off.
Chase handed the last box down to Josh who stood at the foot of the ladder. “That’s all I can find. Hopefully the years we want will be in one of these.”
Josh used a rag from the kitchen to wipe away the layer of dust on the top of the two boxes. “Do you think you can recognize someone from twenty years ago?”
Chase climbed down the ladder and closed up the entrance to the attic. “I’m getting older but I’m not ancient. I may not remember names all that well but I have a memory for faces.”
“And Bailey,” Josh pressed. “Do you think she’ll be able to recognize anyone? I know you want to help her but this may be a wild goose chase all around. I’m still not sure I even believe her story. I think we should check it out for ourselves and make sure they’re telling the truth. The dates of their deaths have to be public record.”
While not completely comfortable with the idea of delving into death certificates, Chase had to concede that what Josh proposed was wise. He’d call their friend Ellis in the morning and let him do the detective work.
“I can’t imagine that she’d lie about something we could easily verify but I see your point.”
Chase turned to head back into the living room but Josh caught his arm. “You need to be careful, my friend. You’re already in deep here.”
Frowning, Chase shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
Josh sighed and leaned a shoulder onto the wall. “The girl. I’m talking about Bailey. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at her because I have.”
“And just how do I look at her?”
Josh chuckled and an evil smile bloomed on his face. “Like she’s the greatest thing since sliced bread and pizza with extra cheese. Not that I blame you because she looks damn fine but don’t let your little head do the thinking for you. I don’t want you to get played. For all we know, she’s a reporter or a writer or worse, some sort of whack-a-doodle who has delusions about murders. Don’t let her talk you into doing something you wouldn’t normally do.”
Chase was many things but a pushover for a woman wasn’t one of them.
“Thanks for the warning but I think I have this handled. I’ll be careful, okay?”
That seemed to be enough for Josh. He headed back to his own place to feed the dogs and get ready for the next day. Chase joined Bailey in the living room again where she was scrolling through her phone. She looked up when they entered and smiled, showing off a perfect set of dimples and even white teeth.
She could be a crazy person. I have to remember that.
He arranged the boxes on the rarely used dining room table. He wasn’t sure if there was any link between Bailey’s late husband and Gwen but if there was, it just might be among these photos. For the first time in twenty years, there might be an actual clue in the murder.
Or this could be a cruel hoax perpetuated by the woman in his living room.
If it was the former, he’d thank whatever part of the universe pushed her into his life.
If it wa
s the latter, she’d wish she’d never come here and stirred this up.
Chapter Ten
It didn’t take long for Chase to locate the boxes from the years that Gwen Baxter attended the summer camp. Old and faded, the memory books were really just regular white paper folded and stapled together, probably assembled at a copy center. The pictures of the campers were in black and white and often not that good. Some were posed but many were candid shots of the kids at play – swimming, riding, and generally having a good time.
“This is Gwen.” Chase pointed to a young blonde in a photo with three other girls sitting at a table eating ice cream. “Those were her cabinmates. They stayed together every year so I’m guessing they were close. They did everything together.”
Bailey studied the girls, fresh and young, smiling as if they hadn’t a care in the world. So much like Frank’s yearbook picture. The cruel world hadn’t touched them yet and she couldn’t help but be a little envious. She barely remembered those days and they seemed so far away.
“She’s pretty,” Bailey remarked, peering at the photos more closely to see if she recognized any of the females. “All of them are.”
None of the girls looked familiar so she turned to the next page. More happy teenagers but none she recognized. With each page it was more of the same. She didn’t recognize anyone. Chase held up another booklet.
“The one you’re looking at was two summers before. This one is the same summer. My parents had created the book a week ahead of time since there was only a few more days of camp left but because of the murder they didn’t hand them out. I don’t know if it was by choice or they simply never had a chance. Everyone’s parents came to get them early so the camp cleared out within twenty-four hours. No one wanted their child in a place where there was a killer.”
If she’d been in their shoes, she would have had her kid out of that place in a heartbeat so that news didn’t surprise her. But…what happened to Chase’s parents was sad.
“I feel sorry for your mother and father. They had this family business and in a second it was gone. They must have been devastated.”
Chase smiled and shook his head. “You’d think that but you’d be wrong. They were relieved. They had a real estate business that they ran full-time and they never really enjoyed the outdoors. They only did this for my grandparents who loved it. They would have retired anyway once my grandfather and grandmother passed on.”
“I guess I just assumed… You held onto it. Never changed anything. I assumed it was for sentimental reasons.”
“In a way, it was. I enjoyed my summers here but it was more than that. I get offers on the property all the time but just haven’t been able to part with the place. Not while Gwen’s murder is unsolved. Maybe if he’s ever found I could put this in the past, sell the place and move on.”
Bailey took a sip of her soda. “It sounds like it was more than a crush on her.”
Chuckling, Chase handed her a booklet, taking a copy for himself. “I can assure you it was just a passing fancy. Seeing her dead was what got to me. So full of life the night before and then suddenly gone. And in such a gruesome fashion. Those images have haunted me for years.”
That had never occurred to her. “Haunted? Are you saying the camp is actually haunted by Gwen?”
His eyes widened and this time he laughed. “Hell, no. The thoughts haunted me. There are no ghosts here. At least none that I know of. Why? Are you a ghost hunter too?”
She shuddered delicately. “No. What I am is a big wuss. I don’t like anything scary. Just standing in the camp tonight as the sun went down freaked me out. Every branch in the wind, every cricket and frog. That’s why I made so much noise when I showed up and that’s why I was waving that damn flashlight around hoping your neighbors would tell on me.”
He was really laughing now, rich and deep and quite attractive. “Why didn’t you just come directly to me?”
“Because I didn’t know where you lived,” she explained as if to a child. “How was I supposed to find you? You had to find me.”
“All you had to do was go into town and ask anyone. They would have sent you here. Standing in the dark by the river wasn’t required.”
Well, crap. She hadn’t thought of that and she was supposed to be smart.
“That never occurred to me,” she finally admitted. “Peyton and Willow suggested coming out here and I guess I didn’t think any further. I’m an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot. It worked, didn’t it? Here you are. Now let’s look through this book.”
Only a few pages in, Chase pushed a picture in front of her. “Right here. These boys. They all liked Gwen. Especially the one with the dark hair. I saw them kissing one night.”
Studying the photo, Bailey could understand why Gwen couldn’t make up her mind about which boy to choose. They were all handsome, each in their own way.
“The night of the murder?”
“Not that night but other nights. I saw her dancing and kissing a lot of boys actually. As I said, she was popular.”
Hmmm…
“When you say popular do you mean something else?”
“If you’re asking if she was sleeping with these boys I don’t know. I do know that there was a great deal of…fornication going on that summer. Hell, every summer, but I was too young to know the details. The kids that came to the camp were pretty wild and Gwen was no exception.”
He’d been fifteen that summer. Plenty old enough to be getting into trouble. Why she needed to know she didn’t understand but she found herself asking.
“What about you? Were you wild? Did you have a summer girlfriend?”
Sputtering with laughter, he shook his head. “Not even close. Those stuck up girls wouldn’t give me the time of day. I was poor according to them. Never mind that we were actually upper middle class—to them I was practically Oliver Twist at the orphanage. My two friends might have gotten lucky – they were wealthy – but me? No way. I had to do without female attention while I was here. That’s why Gwen stood out from the other girls. She didn’t treat me or any of the staff with the usual disdain.”
“I grew up middle class too. We had a few rich kids in our school or what we thought was rich. Doctors and lawyers kids. My mother was a nurse and my father owned a bakery that supplied the restaurants in town. I worked there every summer and after school. That’s where I learned to bake.” She frowned, realizing he didn’t really know anything about her. “I opened a bakery after Frank died. I needed something to concentrate on.”
She didn’t mention that the bakery idea had been a constant bone of contention between her and her husband. She’d wanted to go into business for herself shortly after they were married but he’d objected, saying her job was to take care of him. If she had a business, she wouldn’t be able to travel with him at a moment’s notice or might be too tired to attend the multitude of parties and functions that were a part of his life.
It was on one of those impromptu vacations to Turks and Caicos where he’d had his scuba diving accident. She’d been in the spa getting a pedicure when she’d heard the news. To this day, she couldn’t smell nail polish without getting nauseous.
“You mean like cakes and pies?”
She didn’t imagine the excitement in his voice. “Just like that. Everything sweet and decadent.”
Groaning, he closed his eyes and grinned. “You just became my best friend. I have a huge sweet tooth.”
“If you play your cards right, maybe I’ll make something for you while I’m here if you give me the use of your kitchen. It’s the least I can do for you since you’re helping me.”
“Consider it yours, and I’d like to think we’re helping each other.”
Bailey shrugged, trying to suppress a smile. “Then I won’t bother baking anything.”
“On the other hand, I am doing you a big favor.”
She couldn’t keep a straight face. He was almost pouting and it looked hilarious on a grown man. “Do
n’t worry. I’ll bake something. It’s not a chore—it’s something I really love. What’s your poison?”
His eyebrows shot up. “Pardon?”
“Your poison,” she repeated patiently. “What kind of sweets do you like?”
“I’m not fussy. I like red velvet cake and I also like coconut cream pie. But truly, I won’t turn down anything you make.”
Typical bachelor. Bailey had a few that frequented her bakery and she loved trying new recipes out on them. They’d eat anything and give her honest feedback.
“Neither of those are difficult.” She paged through the book and a picture caught her eye. Bringing it closer, her heart stopped for a moment and her breath caught. She had to force herself to inhale and exhale before she could speak. “Chase, I think I’ve found something.”
Chase put down his own book to look over her shoulder. “What have you got?”
She set the booklet down and pointed to the smiling teenager holding a tennis racquet surrounded by what appeared to be friends.
“That’s Frank. That’s my husband.”
Chapter Eleven
It shouldn’t have been a shock. After all, that’s why Bailey had hopped an airplane from Tampa to Virginia, leaving her manager in charge of the bakery. This was what she’d been looking for but now that she’d found it she wasn’t so sure she wanted to know. Her imagination was working overtime and right now she had a picture of Frank pledging his undying love to Gwen, never getting over her death.
It would explain so much about their marriage.
“Let’s see if he’s in any more photos.”
Bailey heard Chase speaking but she was still having her out of body moment. It was as if this was happening to someone else and she was simply a spectator. Rubbing her fingertips together, she realized the blessed numbness had returned.
“What?”
Chase placed his hand on her shoulder, the warmth seeping through the thin material of her shirt. “I said we should see if he’s in any more photos.”
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