Laugh or Death (Lexi Graves Mysteries Book 6)

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Laugh or Death (Lexi Graves Mysteries Book 6) Page 19

by Camilla Chafer


  "Could be," said Maddox, "but that doesn't explain why Peta is pretending to be Nancy."

  "Or why Leo thinks Peta is Nancy," I added, stuck on that point.

  "Maybe Leo is the serial killer," said Solomon.

  "Or maybe he's a victim in all this too," I countered.

  "I need to know more about this guy," said Maddox.

  I waited for Solomon to give me the nod before I started. "Leo Chandler came to us to find his missing girlfriend, Nancy Grant. He told us she went missing six months before and he suspected amnesia. She wandered away from home after hitting her head in a fall while they were taking a walk in the woods behind his home. He put some missing notices on the net, and got a hit from a person in Montgomery who saw someone who could potentially have been Nancy. That's when he called us in to investigate. He showed us a photo of Peta Hanson, whom he believed was Nancy."

  "It's not unusual to having a private agency undertake work like that," said Maddox to which Solomon and I nodded our agreement.

  I continued, "Looking into the sighting wasn't hard. I spoke to the person who called in the sighting of Nancy and spoke to other people where she'd been seen, and it appeared all real. After some searching, I traced whom I thought was Nancy to Pretty Paws, where she worked and lived in an apartment above. Unfortunately, she took off once she got wind I was looking for her. I planned to go back and get the surveillance footage, but the block burned down in a freak fire."

  "A freak fire?" Maddox asked.

  "Seems that way. I haven't spoken to the fire department yet. I should get on with that."

  "Leave it to me," said Maddox. "That's where the trail went cold?"

  "Actually, no. We have footage from a bus that transported Nancy across town where we hacked into..."

  "Don't tell me that!"

  "Sorry... we happened to find out that Nancy was picked up by Joelle, a friend from Pretty Paws. We staked out Joelle's apartment, but they gave us the slip and now they're lost to the wind."

  "Great," Maddox muttered.

  "They didn't give me the slip," I pointed out, "but we won't go into that. Anyway, we ran everything in Nancy's background and there was nothing to contradict Leo or suggest anything he told us wasn't true. Just as he said, Nancy ceased to exist six months ago."

  "Because she died," Solomon said bluntly.

  I waved Peta's photo in the air. "Yeah, we know that now!"

  "You didn't find any evidence to suggest that Peta stole Nancy's identity?" asked Maddox.

  "I didn't know Peta existed until today, but yeah, I was starting to have misgivings about the woman we thought was Nancy. I suspected she was playing Leo, and had some kind of plan to deceive him, then ran when she realized it wasn't going to work."

  "I can see why you'd think that."

  "So, that's where we were when you called and invited me to look at your missing persons."

  "I got more than I bargained for with your assistance," said Maddox, giving a mirthful laugh.

  "We'll bill you," said Solomon. "I think our inn is nearby."

  "I need to freshen up," I told them, "then I'd really like to visit Peta's parents and see what they can tell us."

  Maddox nodded. "We'll divide and conquer. I'll go to the police department and see what I can dig up. I'll call the Montgomery Fire Department too."

  "Ask Greenacre PD about Leo Chandler, too," said Solomon. "We ran a full background check on him, but I'm worried we could have missed something."

  "What did your checks show?"

  "Steady freelance career. Small mortgage on his cabin. No crazy purchases. Pretty ordinary guy."

  "What piqued your concerns?" Maddox asked.

  "I don't know. Him. Something about him."

  Maddox shifted in his seat again to look back at me. "Same for you?"

  "No, I thought he was nice."

  "Lexi thinks reuniting lost loves is romantic," said Solomon.

  "The entire Disney audience agrees with me," I said.

  "They're all under ten," Solomon replied, veering into a sharp turn that had me sliding across the backseat. He pulled into a parking spot at the end of the short driveway and switched off the engine, looking from Maddox to me. "Let's meet back at the car in a half hour. Does that give you both enough time to freshen up? I want to get going on this." He was out of the car before I had a chance to remind him he didn't have to restyle his hair, refresh his makeup, or choose between the pink pumps I currently had on or a sturdy pair of boots for walking.

  "Sounds good," said Maddox as he hopped out.

  "Am I the only one who cares about looking good?" I asked the interior of the vehicle when the two best-looking men in my life rounded the car. The trunk popped open. I got out of the car just in time to get the best rear view in the history of the world when Solomon and Maddox both leaned into the trunk to grab their bags. I stopped drooling in time for Solomon to slam the trunk shut and hike my bag over his shoulder.

  "Lexi?" he said.

  I mumbled something incoherent.

  "Did you book the reservation under your name or mine?" he asked slowly.

  I nodded. "Yes."

  Solomon shook his head, then indicated for me to follow. Inside, the manager smiled as we approached the desk. "Mr. and Mrs. Graves?" she asked. "Welcome to the Old Owl Inn."

  "Ms. Graves," I corrected, "and Mr. Solomon."

  "Adam Maddox," said Maddox. "I booked a room this morning."

  "Would you like adjoining rooms?" the manager continued, smiling brightly. "Since you're all traveling together?"

  "No," we all said as one.

  She didn't blink as she grabbed two sets of keys. "I have the perfect rooms for you. Follow me."

  ~

  We gave Maddox a ride to the police station, a small, squat, redbrick building, before departing for the Hanson house. I was relieved that Solomon called ahead to tell them we were coming, but that didn't stop the butterflies somersaulting around my stomach in anticipation of what we might find.

  I was quietly hopeful that another break was within sniffing distance, but also highly aware of how lucky I was to be in the right place, at the right time, to see the photo of Peta Hanson in Maddox's missing women file. I still couldn't fathom how she or Nancy fit into it all. I re-read the case notes of every victim several times. Not a single other woman reappeared after being reported missing, which made me wonder if Peta were connected to the serial killer case at all. It could have been merely a coincidence that she was reported missing within the serial killer's operating zone. Even as I considered it, I had to question the feasibility of that happening. Too many things had already occurred on this case that could not be called coincidences.

  "What are you thinking?" asked Solomon, glancing over at me while we cruised through broad, tree-lined streets.

  "Serial killers, Peta, Nancy, and coincidences."

  "You think this is all a big coincidence?"

  "Yes, no, and maybe."

  Solomon laughed. "Got all your bases covered."

  "I just don't want to rule anything out. This case has been weird from the beginning."

  "Told you I had a bad feeling."

  "It could still be the most enormous set of weird coincidences. I mean, just how likely is it that we would fall into a serial killer case?"

  "About as likely as an amnesiac woman surfacing miles from home, but knowing her own name, or the chance of reuniting lost loves, or discovering a stolen identity, or having a client who is being played to the nth degree."

  "Did you leave me any theories to work with?" I asked, punching his arm lightly.

  "We can only develop theories using the information we have," Solomon pointed out as he pulled over and parked in front of a pretty house. "So theories evolve with new information. I hope we're about to add a lot more information to what we already know."

  "This could be the final piece of the jigsaw puzzle!"

  "Yeah, or it could just confuse us even more. That's the Hanson ho
use." Solomon pointed to the pretty house, which looked charming and very neat, the kind of place one grew up in, and moved out of, but always aspired to own something similar. I could easily have fallen in love with it, except that would be cheating on my buttercup-yellow bungalow and I loved my home. "Want to take the lead?"

  "I don't even know where to start!"

  "Start with the photo Leo received. Have them confirm if it's Peta, or Nancy, or whoever. We'll work from there."

  I extracted the printed photo from my purse and unfolded it. "Do you think they know where Peta is?"

  "We're about to find out." Solomon got out of the car and opened my door, offering me his hand. I doubted any of my colleagues got such special treatment, so I took his hand and enjoyed the gesture, grateful that he never shared a room with any of them on out-of-town trips either.

  The street was quiet as we took the path to the door, pausing momentarily to let a fat, ginger cat cross in front of us before reaching the stoop. I rang the doorbell and we waited. A young man, probably in his late teens or early twenties, answered the door. "Can I help you?" he asked, looking from me to Solomon, and back again. I couldn't blame him. I suspected, by the look in his eyes, that he probably found me more appealing than Solomon.

  "We have an appointment with Mr. and Mrs. Hanson. Your parents?" I guessed.

  "Right, sure. The private investigators. Come in. I'm Carl, their son." Carl took us into the living room, where his father waited, an unread newspaper next to him on the couch. A triptych of floral paintings spanned the wall behind him, delicate and beautifully alive, each almost as detailed as a photograph. Mr. Hanson stood as we entered and shook our hands, introducing himself as Richard, and his wife, who walked in behind us, as Esther. Esther indicated we should sit and we did, perching on the twin slipper chairs, opposite the couch where the Hanson family sat.

  "You said you had some information about our daughter," said Richard. "What kind of information?"

  I passed the photo to Richard. He looked at it, then passed it to Esther, who frowned.

  "Can you confirm if this is Peta?" I asked.

  "It looks like her," said Esther. "Why?"

  "This photo was taken recently in Montgomery. We were asked to track this woman by her boyfriend."

  "It does look like her, but I'm not so sure," said Richard, taking the photo from Esther and handing it back to us. "Plus, Peta didn't have a boyfriend when she went missing."

  "Are you sure?" asked Solomon.

  "Of course, we're sure. We had a very close relationship with our daughter, a very open one. She could talk to us about anything and we always knew when she had a boyfriend," said Richard.

  "Does your daughter have any connection to Montgomery?"

  Esther shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. She took trips with her friends and an occasional boyfriend. It's not so far that I'd say she definitely hasn't visited there."

  "So… as far as you know, she doesn't have any friends who live there?"

  Esther looked at her husband, but he didn't give any discernible response. "Not that we know about," she replied. "If that woman in the photo is Peta, I can't imagine what she might be doing in Montgomery. The longer I think about it, the less sure I am at all that it is Peta. She appears similar but... it's just not detailed enough to be absolutely certain. I'm sorry."

  I decided to move on, since my question didn't yield any results. "Did Peta know Nancy Grant?"

  This time, both Richard and Esther looked up sharply. "Yes," Esther said, blinking as she darted a panicked look at her husband. "They were friends. Nancy died a few months ago, not long before Peta disappeared."

  "Were they close friends? Was Peta adversely affected by Nancy's passing?"

  "She was devastated," said Carl quietly, stopping as his mother laid a hand on his knee.

  "They'd known each other since middle school," continued Esther. "We were all very upset when Nancy passed. It was very... sudden."

  "How did Nancy pass away? Was she ill?"

  "No. No, she had an awful accident. She... she had a head injury and... I'm sorry... I... this is all too much," Esther sputtered, her hand flying to her mouth. "Please excuse me." Before I could say anything, she got up and rushed from the room, her footsteps indicating she headed to the back of the house, but I didn't hear a door slam.

  "Nancy's passing and Peta's subsequent disappearance were very hard on the family," said Richard. "My wife has been very upset. We all have."

  "We understand," said Solomon, nodding towards me and inclining his head towards the door while the Hanson men weren't looking. He wanted me to go check on Esther, that much was obvious, and my good sense told me it was less of a check-up and more like a divide-and-conquer. We might have gotten more information out of the family members separately.

  "May I use your bathroom?" I asked, standing up. "It's been a long drive."

  "Sure. Down the hall." Richard waved his hand roughly in the direction. I ignored it, of course, and instead, looked into all the doorways until I spotted Esther. The house didn't go far back, having a dining room, a study, and a large kitchen-dining room. She was standing at the sink, looking out into the garden. I expected to find her crying, but she wasn't.

  "Mrs. Hanson? Esther?" I said, when she didn't turn around as I entered. Finally, she looked over her shoulder.

  "Sorry about that," she said softly.

  "No, I'm sorry. It must be very hard to talk about your daughter. You must miss her a lot."

  "Every day."

  "I speak to plenty of people who are missing loved ones," I told her. "No one ever finds it easy."

  "Do you help them?" she asked, turning back to the garden.

  "Sometimes. Not always in the way they expect." I stepped into the kitchen, looking over at the mantel. A series of framed photos spanned the ledge and curiosity made me step closer. There were a couple of posed shots of the family, and one of Esther and Richard at a formal party, along with a couple of group photos of the kids. There was one shot with Peta, whom I recognized instantly, and a few other men and women, their arms around each other, laughing. One of the men held a huge fish and appeared to be celebrating the catch. Another man made my breath hitch, but it wasn't because he was incredibly handsome, or that he fell short in the looks department. It was because I'd already met him and his name was Leo Chandler. He had his arm around a woman's waist, pulling her close, but his gaze was looking past her to someone else in the photo.

  While Esther's back was turned, I discreetly slipped my cell phone from my purse and took a picture with the camera function. I messaged it to Solomon, then returned my phone and picked up the photo. "Esther, can you tell me who this is?" I asked, taking the photo to her. She looked down as I placed it in front of her and pointed to Leo's face.

  "That's Leo," she said. "Why?"

  "And who's this? The woman his arm is around." I tapped her photo just so we were clear, because he also had his other arm around another woman. However, that woman was holding hands and looking up at the guy on her other side.

  "That's Nancy. Leo was her boyfriend."

  "Peta, Nancy, and Leo all knew each other?" I asked, even though I didn't need to. I knew the answer. The photograph told me quite clearly, they did.

  "Yes, they were all friends. We haven’t seen much of Leo since Nancy passed. We don't see much of any of their friends now."

  "Lexi. Esther." Solomon stood in the doorway. "We have a few more questions."

  "I suppose we should get this over with," said Esther, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, even though they both looked dry.

  "We should," I agreed, my mind racing. "We won't take much more of your time." I ushered Esther into the living room, sitting as she sat. Solomon came in behind us and only when he placed the photo frame on the coffee table, sliding it towards her, did I realize he picked it up.

  "Let me tell you my theory," he said. "Our client came into our office and gave us a story about losing his girlfriend. He
r name was Nancy and she went missing after hitting her head in a fall. She probably had amnesia and somehow, wound up in our town and was recognized. Except he didn't give us a photo of Nancy. He gave us a photo of your daughter, Peta. Acting in good faith, we went in search of the woman we thought was Nancy. We even found her."

  "I don't know what you mean by this..." Richard stood up, his face flashing red.

  "Sir, if you give me a moment, I'll explain. We found Nancy. She even called herself Nancy. That's odd, we thought, that she knows her name and can hold down a job, but can't remember to call her boyfriend."

  "Richard..." Esther flashed another panicked look while Carl stared at his feet.

  "I'd like you to leave," said Richard, pointing to the door. "Coming in here with these bizarre stories..."

  "Then Nancy went missing again," continued Solomon, ignoring the Hansons. "And we then found out that the woman we've been searching for is really called Peta Hanson who was listed as a missing person in a serial killer case."

  Carl's head shot up, frantically looking at his parents. His mother whimpered, "Serial killer?"

  "That's enough!" Richard raised his voice only a couple of octaves away from shouting. "You're upsetting my wife." Solomon jumped to his feet as Richard stormed towards him.

  "Dad, stop it. Stop it!" Carl leapt after his father, grabbing his arm. "Dad, stop it. Just tell them. Tell them everything."

  "Tell us what?" asked Solomon as the Hansons appeared to freeze up.

  "Carl, don't..." his mother warned, her voice wavering.

  "They already figured it out." Carl turned to his mother, his voice pleading.

  "Tell us," Solomon insisted.

  "Peta's not dead or missing," Carl blurted. "She's hiding. She's been hiding ever since Nancy was murdered."

  Chapter Sixteen

  All hell broke loose in the Hanson household. Richard's face turned a unique shade of purple, Esther began crying and Carl was breathing heavily like he might burst into tears at any moment, while holding his head in his hands. All I could do was wait as Solomon attempted to cajole the story out of Carl, the only one who seemed willing to talk anymore.

 

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