by Dianne Emley
As she headed for the command station at the far end of the packed-dirt parking lot, she noticed a crumpled bag from In-N-Out Burger on the dashboard of Emily’s car. She tried the car door and was surprised to find it unlocked. Emily always locked her car. An odor of greasy fried food wafted out. She shined the flashlight beam inside. In the cup holder were two In-N-Out drink cups, and crammed inside the open ashtray was a greasy bag half full of limp french fries. The Beemer was Em’s pride and joy, and she was particular about not eating in it much less leaving garbage around. Adding to Nan’s discomfort, she recalled that Em had recently accused her of trying to poison her when Nan had suggested a fast-food burger.
On the backseat was Em’s backpack, printed with daisies in psychedelic colors. Carelessly strewn across the seat beside it were textbooks and an iPad that didn’t belong to Em. A Spanish textbook was lying open on the car floor, facedown, its pages bent. Everything was out in the open for anyone to come by and steal. Em knew not to leave valuables in plain view. Nan wondered about this Ashton kid, who’d led her daughter to a spot that was unsafe at night and had turned her into a junk-food eating, loopy, distracted girl. In spite of Em’s claims, Nan knew that Ashton wasn’t merely a guy in her photography class. Emily had had just one boyfriend and Nan hadn’t been crazy about him, but Emily hadn’t kept the relationship a secret. Why was Em keeping Ashton a secret?
As she was gathering up the iPad and scattered books to put them into the trunk, she was caught in the headlights of a low-slung vehicle with a large engine that seductively purred. The driver cut the engine and the lights and Nan saw the car was a silver Maserati.
The passenger door flew open and an attractive, whippet-thin woman, wearing a short red sheath dress and multiple strands of gold chains with little medallions dangling from them, ran up to Nan, her feet wobbling in her strappy high heels against the uneven dirt.
She extended her right hand, jeweled bracelets glinting on her wrist. “You’re Em’s mother. She looks just like you. I’m Becky McCarthy. Ashton’s mom. I’m happy to meet you at last, but the circumstances are so horrible.” She glanced at Nan’s shield. “You really are a detective.”
Nan’s arms were full of books and things, and she couldn’t shake the woman’s hand.
“Oh my goodness. Those are Ashton’s. Let me take that.” The woman’s perfectly shaped eyebrows bent slightly but her forehead didn’t wrinkle. She was probably in her midforties and her forehead had no lines. She loaded Ashton’s belongings into the crook of her left arm, and instead of shaking Nan’s hand, she circled her shoulders with her free arm and gave Nan a hug, as tight as the pile of books would allow. “It’s so awful. Those poor kids.” When she pulled away, her light blue eyes were full of tears. Her thick, shoulder-length hair was streaked with several shades of blond and styled with swingy layers.
“It’s a nightmare.” Nan looked past Becky. When she saw a man she despised approach from the Maserati, she found a reason why Emily had hidden Ashton from her.
Leo Balsam smiled at Nan, revealing small teeth framed by thin lips. He extended his hand to her and said in a commanding voice, “Detective Vining.” He was wearing an expensive suit, as Nan had observed was his habit when she’d spent days facing him in a courtroom. Balsam was a prominent criminal defense attorney and Nan’s last encounter with him still burned. He’d skewered her on the witness stand, trashing her credibility and reputation in an effort to get an acquittal for his client, a frat boy Nan had arrested for raping a teenage girl at a party in a Pasadena mansion. The strategy had been successful. Nan had since had the pleasure of seeing the young man, the son of one of Balsam’s country club crowd, around Pasadena. Nan noticed that Balsam was developing a bald spot on the back of his head, which the dark hair he’d combed from his forehead didn’t completely cover.
“Counselor.” Nan grasped his hand, finding his handshake annoyingly bone-crunching. “Are you Ashton’s…?”
“Stepfather.”
Becky said, “I kept my McCarthy name for professional reasons. I’m an interior designer. Hon, can you put these in the car, please?” She handed Leo the stack of Ashton’s things.
Nan was shocked when Becky opened the front passenger door of Emily’s car as if she owned it and began picking up the garbage.
“We just love Em. She is the sweetest girl. She and Ashton are so cute together and she’s so good for him. Very leveling. It’s been tough on Ashton, switching schools.” Becky pushed the car door closed with her rear end. She smiled and shook her head at the In-N-Out debris as she went to a trash can and dumped it inside. “Em’s been sweet to drive Ashton sometimes.”
Nan wondered why Ashton, from a wealthy family, wasn’t attending one of Pasadena’s private schools and had transferred to a public school late in his high school career. Coopersmith was a highly regarded magnet school for the arts, but a diploma from there didn’t have the prestige as a diploma from a private prep school. And why was Emily driving Ashton around? Had Ashton’s license been suspended for some reason? She’d use her connections to find out. She wasn’t about to ask Becky or Leo and reveal how little she knew about her daughter’s life. There was one thing she hoped she could learn: What had happened between Nan and her daughter to make Emily shut her out this way?
Chapter 4
Leo must have seen the expression on Nan’s face darken. He put his hand on the small of his wife’s back and moved her along. “Let’s retrieve our children from this horrible situation and get them safely back home.”
“We have to check in before we enter the scene.” Nan led the way to the command station, which was set up in the open back of a Chevy Tahoe. Portable generators hummed as they powered floodlights that cast the area in harsh brightness.
The incident commander was Lieutenant Matt Cordova. Nan had gotten to know Cordova years ago when she’d been a patrol officer and he a detective in Residential Burglary and she’d worked with him to break a burglary ring. His shaved head made him look older than his forty-two years. She liked and respected him. He was engaged in an intense conversation with Lieutenant George Beltran, whom she did not like or respect.
Both lieutenants turned as Nan, Becky, and Leo approached.
Beltran flashed Nan a winning and bright smile that she found as phony as he was. “Corporal Vining. You’re just a moth to the flame.”
Nan said, “LT, I’m picking up Emily and thought I’d have a look-see since I’m here.”
Beltran waved his hand dismissively. “No need. We’ve got this covered. Go home and comfort your daughter. She’s upset.” Beltran extended his hand to Leo. “Mr. Balsam.”
Leo introduced his wife. They and Beltran chatted as if they were at a cocktail party.
Stuffing down her anger, Nan logged into the scene with a uniformed officer, a petite brunette whose nametag above her badge said S. PORTER, just as a media helicopter flew low over the area.
Cordova said, “Nan, your daughter’s at a picnic table over there with Sergeant Early.”
Nan crossed a field green with grass that had sprouted after the spring rains. Becky and Leo broke away from Beltran and followed her.
The PPD Forensics team, wearing dark slacks and black polo shirts with FORENSICS in gold across the back, and uniformed officers were setting up a twine-and-stake grid to organize the search for evidence. More floodlights powered by portable generators lined a grassy and rocky field and extended over a knoll in the distance. Light glowed behind it.
At a group of picnic tables, Sergeant Kendra Early was standing with a teenage boy who Nan assumed was Ashton McCarthy. He was talking animatedly and gesturing with his hands, at one point grabbing his unruly mop of light brown, curly hair with both hands as if describing something unbelievable. He was tall and well built with deep-set eyes, a pug nose, and expressive lips. His oval face was still soft and hadn’t settled into the angular planes of adulthood. Nan thought he was something of a showman by the way he was playing to Early. She coul
d see how he’d be candy to a teenage girl. He looked like a pouty-lipped teen idol, cute enough not to be intimidating but with enough of a rebel streak to be exciting. Nan observed that he shared some physical characteristics with Emily’s dad.
Emily was sitting at a picnic table with her legs facing out. She was wearing a black PPD windbreaker that someone must have given her to cover her bare arms in the cool night air. Nan saw the way her daughter was looking at Ashton and realized this was much worse than she’d thought. Emily was in love with this boy.
Ashton turned his attention from Early when Nan approached and he gave her a brief, crooked smile.
Emily bolted from the bench and threw herself into her mother’s arms.
Becky hugged Ashton and murmured to him as Leo patted him on the back.
Emily sobbed against her mother’s shoulder as Nan smoothed her silky, nearly black hair, which reached the middle of her back. She still hadn’t gotten used to Emily having shot up to five feet nine, only an inch shorter than she. The girl’s weight hadn’t kept up with her growth even though she ate like a horse. Em had complained that some snarky teens at school accused her of having an eating disorder, but she just ignored them. That was Nan’s bold girl. So why had Emily not mentioned this Ashton boy to her?
Emily muttered semi-coherently against her mom’s shoulder. “Her clothes were pulled off. That freak, Jared. I can’t believe it.”
“I know, sweet pea. I know.”
Over Emily’s shoulder, Nan caught Sergeant Early’s gaze. In response, Early slowly closed her careworn eyes and sympathetically nodded. Early had been Nan’s C.O. for several years and Nan respected and trusted her. Early’s skin was the color of milk chocolate and Nan had never seen her wearing makeup. There was more salt than pepper in her hair these days, which she wore in the same short style that she had for years. Her white blouse was tucked into her suit slacks. Her black belt was the only indication of her waistline, which had filled out, blurring any definition between it and her hips.
“Are we going home?”
“Soon.” Nan let go of Emily and turned toward Ashton, who extended his hand and gave her a firm handshake.
“Mrs. Vining, I’m Ashton McCarthy. I’m pleased to meet you.” His formal introduction seemed lifted from the cotillion handbook.
“I’m pleased to meet you too, Ashton.” She considered telling him to call her Detective Vining but resisted. She saw Ashton glance at the long scar down the left side of her neck and the smaller scar on the back of her right hand. The one on her neck was obvious but his eyes had intentionally dropped to her hand as if seeking out the other scar, having heard it was there. Nan was still a minor celebrity because of the incident that had caused those wounds and its bloody aftermath. She expected people to take their look and move on, which he did.
Becky left Ashton and went to hug Emily, saying, “That must have been so terrible for you. I pray you can get those terrible images out of your mind.”
Emily again started weeping. “Me too.”
Becky released her and squeezed her hand. Nan was again annoyed with Becky’s casual familiarity with her daughter when Nan had never seen the woman before.
Emily wiped her tears with both hands. “I guess I shouldn’t call Jared a freak. Teachers liked him. He was a chess club kind of guy. He was always saying the wrong thing. Trying too hard to be liked. I get it that it had to be hard to start a new school as a senior. He was in my student government class. He had some really good ideas. You know he tried to kill himself before.”
Becky gasped. “Did he really?”
Nan asked, “Do you know when?”
Emily sniffed. “A year or so ago. In Reno. Before he and his mom moved to Pasadena. Jared’s dad is dead. Jared wrote a story about how his dad supposedly committed suicide but it was really a murder.”
Nan frowned as she turned that over in her mind.
Becky looked around. “Where are they? I mean the bodies…”
Early pointed in the direction of the knoll about half a football field away. “There’s a ravine behind that hill. The victims are on the other side under some trees.”
Nan said, “Ashton, how do you know about this place? It’s pretty remote.”
Ashton shrugged. “It’s just a place I know. It’s supercool when the moon is full. That was our project, taking pictures of moody shadows.”
Early said, her expression smug, “A couple of our officers say the high school kids call it Stoner Glen.”
“Stoner Glen,” Nan said to Ashton, saying the nickname with emphasis. “Is that what the kids call it?”
Emily raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t know that.”
Becky shuffled her feet while Leo looked grimly at his stepson.
Ashton scratched his face, hiding a grin. He repeated, “It’s a cool place to take pictures.”
Nan noticed two expensive cameras on top of the picnic table. One was Emily’s, an extravagant Christmas gift from Em’s dad and his shopaholic trophy wife. “Ashton, did you only take photos of moody shadows or did you take pictures of the bodies too?”
“Mom.” Emily huffed out a breath. “We know better than that.”
The question had rankled Becky. “Ashton wouldn’t do anything like that.”
“Did you kids go into the ravine to get a closer look at the bodies?” Nan asked.
Emily huffed. “I already told you that we wouldn’t do anything like that.”
Nan shifted her gaze between Emily and Ashton. “So you two were together the whole time until the police came?”
“Of course.” Emily licked her lips, shot a glance at Ashton’s camera and then at him. “Well…there were a couple of minutes when I had to walk back toward the road because I couldn’t get cell phone reception and Ashton was…I don’t know where Ashton was.”
Nan saw Ashton’s gaze dart away from Em’s and she asked, “Ashton, what did you do while Emily was making her call?”
Leo said with annoyance, “Ashton did not take photos of the crime scene.” He picked up Ashton’s camera from the table and held it toward Nan. “Go ahead and see for yourself. Look through his cell phone too.”
Nan took the camera. When she had trouble figuring out how to turn it on, Ashton showed her. “It’s this button, Mrs. Vining. Press this to scroll through the pictures.”
“Really, Mom? You have to look through his pictures?” Emily dropped onto the picnic table bench, leaned forward with her elbows against her knees, and put her head in her hands. “Stop interrogating us.”
Nan ignored her daughter and clicked through all the photos that were stamped with today’s date. There were shots of shadows cast by the moonlight, a couple of Emily, and a selfie of Em and Ashton kissing. Nan had to admit that the photos showed an artistic eye. The last one on the camera was of Emily running in the moonlight. It was time-stamped 7:16 p.m., about fifteen minutes before Emily had called 911. Nan found it suspicious that Leo was confident Ashton hadn’t taken photos of the victims. She guessed that Leo had told his stepson to delete any such photos just in case the police wanted to look at his camera. Nan handed Ashton’s camera back to him. She didn’t ask to see his cell phone. “Nice photos, Ashton.”
“Thank you.” Ashton gave her a sheepish smile.
Becky put her arm around Ashton’s shoulders and seemed happy to change the subject. “Let’s get you kids home. It’s been a terrible day for you.” She turned to Leo. “Honey, what if we take Emily and her mom out to dinner with us?”
Leo said, “Great idea,” even though Nan suspected he’d prefer just to get the hell out of there. “Nan, would you and Emily like to join Ashton and Becky and me for dinner?”
Emily hopefully looked at her mom, who said, “That’s nice of you to offer, but Em and I can’t leave just yet. I have a few things to discuss with Sergeant Early. I don’t want to hold you up.”
Emily dramatically sighed and hung her head. “Thank you, Becky and Leo. Ashton, go ahead and go. I’ll
wait. I’m used to it.”
Becky started to say something about her and Leo driving Emily when everyone turned at the sounds of whimpering and cries of distress as someone ran over the crest of the knoll, briefly silhouetted by the floodlights and moving erratically.
“That’s Lydia Narayan,” Early said.
The rookie detective abruptly stopped, leaned over with her hands against her knees, and vomited.
Alex Caspers came over the hill behind her and stopped several yards away. He called out, “Are you okay?”
Still leaning over, Narayan waved him off and vomited some more.
“No problem. Take a few minutes.” Caspers sounded irritated. He went back up the hill into the halo of light emanating behind it.
“My goodness.” Becky pressed her hand against her cheek.
Lydia remained bent over as she gathered herself. She took something from her pocket and wiped her mouth. Holding her hand against her belly, she unsteadily approached Early, who walked a few yards to meet her. Lydia’s teeth were chattering and her skin had a green tinge. “Sarge, I can’t do this. My cousin committed suicide and I just can’t…”
“No worries, Lydia,” Early said. “Go on home.”
While Lydia hurried toward the parking lot, Early gestured for Nan to join her away from the others. As Nan approached, Early said, “Looks like we’ll need you after all.”
Nan detected relief in Early’s voice and she felt relieved herself.
“Maybe Ashton’s parents can see Emily home after they go out for dinner?” Early turned toward Leo, Becky, and the teens and spoke loud enough for them to hear.
“We’d be delighted to,” Becky said.
Emily was cheered by this turn of events.
“Thank you, Becky and Leo.” Nan held up her index finger. “Just one minute while I talk to Sergeant Early and then we’ll get you on the road.”