by Nancy Bush
“But if it was Lucas’s hair, if someone was saving it all these years . . . and Annette found out about it . . .” She glanced around the room, staring at the people she’d gone to school with and their fathers through new eyes. “Flat-out creepy.”
“I thought I might mention it to some people,” Danner said. “See what kind of reaction pops up.”
“Is there a connection?” Coby asked. “Between Annette’s death and Lucas’s? Is there?”
“What we know is a chunk of Lucas Moore’s hair was cut from the crown of his head. Whether it was postmortem, I don’t know.”
“Someone at the party had that envelope. Annette was distracted as soon as she had it in her hands,” Coby said.
“But after she said she was going to tell secrets.”
Coby nodded. “Yeah.”
“So, that was something else.”
“I guess so,” Coby said, unwilling to completely let that go. This seemed so big, yet maybe she was making connections too soon.
“It sounds like whatever she was arguing with Yvette about wasn’t the lock of hair in the envelope,” Danner said.
They both turned and looked at Yvette, who’d collected Benedict and was saying her good-byes to her sisters and father. Feeling their gazes on her, she glanced over. Her face tightened and she gave them the cold shoulder on her way out.
Seeing Danner with Coby, Jarrod headed their way and Genevieve ended her conversation with McKenna to follow after him. As if they’d been invited to the party, Kirk Grassi, Paul Lessington, and Vic Franzen came over in a group, as well. Coby was a little surprised they’d all showed; it wasn’t their kind of event.
Kirk spoke up before anyone could say anything, “We’re at the Cellar this weekend. Come and see us.”
This was apparently meant for Coby, as he was looking at her. “I’d like to,” she said.
“Friday night,” Kirk said and slid a look toward Danner. “You dating?” he asked him. “Or just checking out the suspects?”
“Are we all suspects?” Gen demanded with a frown.
“Sure,” Kirk said. “Paul and Vic, too. They were at the beach that night. In Seaside. I joined up with them.”
“Jesus, Grassi,” Vic protested. “God damn it.”
Kirk turned up his palms. “If I’m lying, I’m dying.”
“We weren’t anywhere near the party,” Paul said, flushing angrily.
“Well, let’s just all make ourselves look guilty,” Kirk said in a singsong voice.
Danner said tightly, “Let’s go outside and talk.”
“What’s wrong with here?” Kirk demanded.
“Don’t be such an ass,” Coby told him tightly, which surprised everyone because generally it was Gen who got in people’s faces. “It’s a memorial service,” she pointed out.
“Good going,” Genevieve said admiringly as they all moved toward the exit, stopping to say their good-byes to Dave and the Deneuve family.
Chapter 16
The wind had picked up while they were inside and Coby watched as it whipped at Danner’s hair, tossing it into his eyes. He had gone down the front of the steps and into the parking lot. Jarrod, Genevieve, Kirk, Paul, and Vic had followed him, creating an impromptu meeting near Danner’s Wrangler. Suzette, Galen, Nicholette with Paige, Juliet, and a couple of the dads, Hank Sainer and Donald Greer, had apparently taken the others’ exodus as a sign to do the same and were a few steps back, looking like they wanted to join in. Wynona stayed on the front porch of Cramer Hall but was looking their way, her dark hair waving around her face like Medusa’s snakes.
Or maybe it was just the dark scowl on her face that gave Coby that impression. There was no need to be fanciful, Coby reminded herself.
Coby was standing near Genevieve as Danner said, “If you haven’t heard yet, Annette’s death is being treated as a homicide.”
“God.” Gen inhaled sharply and Coby slid her a glance.
“You’re kidding.” Vic’s jaw dropped.
“It’s gotta be a mistake,” Jarrod said, but his eyes were on his wife, who’d already posed the idea of murder.
“Who did it?” Gen demanded, ignoring her husband.
“We’re working on figuring it out,” Danner said. “I’m helping out with the Tillamook County Sheriff’s Department. Some of you may have already spoken to Detective Clausen or someone else from the TCSD. There are a few theories being tossed out. Nothing concrete, so far. I’m open to listen to anything, so if you know something, talk to me. Even if you just think you know something.”
“The police must have some favorite theory,” Genevieve insisted.
Nicholette handed Paige her keys and said, “Go to the car. I’ll be right there.”
Paige gave her a look from expressive dark brown eyes that said she resented being shunted out of the way, then dutifully headed across the parking lot. “Big ears,” Nicholette said by way of explanation.
Danner pulled out some business cards and handed them out. “I’m available on my cell. If you want to talk, let’s make it a different venue.”
Kirk complained, “Come on, man. Give us something. We want to help, but who would want to kill her? If you have any theories, throw ’em at us!”
Danner’s gaze was turned toward Wynona and the Cramer House porch. Big Bob and McKenna had stopped to say a few words to her and they turned their faces toward the parking lot group. Danner seemed to come to a mental decision, saying, “The night of her party Annette said she was going to reveal a secret. If anyone knows what that secret might be, now would be a good time to share it. She also had an envelope with a lock of hair inside that seemed to disturb her.”
“I saw her with an envelope,” Kirk said. “Didn’t know it was a lock of hair. Whose is it?”
“Hasn’t been determined,” Danner said.
“But you have an idea, don’t you?” This was from Juliet, who’d stepped within earshot along with the rest of her group from the memorial service. Now she gazed at Danner with a kind of dawning horror and repeated Kirk’s question,“Whose is it?”
Danner shook his head. “The envelope disappeared the night of Annette’s death, so we really don’t know.”
“Like the necklace?” Jarrod asked, eyebrows raised.
“You make it all sound like a conspiracy,” Nicholette said, wrapping her coat closer around her.
“Vic and I weren’t there,” Paul put in again, with some urgency.
“Shut up.” Kirk flicked a glance of annoyance at him. “No one’s saying you did it, okay? All right, then whose hair do you think it is?” he asked Danner, and when he didn’t reply, he turned his attention to Coby. “You know, don’t you?”
“No. Of course not.” She shook her head.
“Why ‘of course not’?” Suzette asked. “You and Annette were talking away that night.”
“She said she wanted to bring a secret to light,” Coby defended herself. “She didn’t mention the envelope.”
“How do you know what was in the envelope?” Genevieve demanded of Danner. “Who saw it?”
“I did,” Coby admitted. “I saw the way Annette was acting after she found it and when she put it down for a moment I looked inside. I thought it was . . . I don’t know. I thought it might explain what she’d been talking about.”
“You were snooping.”
They all turned at the sound of Faith’s voice, but she was looking at Coby and smiling. “She’s always been a closet Nancy Drew,” Faith said to the group at large as she joined them. “Dad’s getting ready to leave,” she added.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Coby said, but Faith didn’t seem to be in any hurry to return, either.
“So?” Kirk demanded of Coby. “You found the hair and told Detective Lockwood. Bet you’ve got some kind of theory.”
“Here comes Jean-Claude,” Faith murmured.
He was walking like an old man, coming toward them slowly, his shoulders stooped, to meet up with three of his daught
ers. Suzette stepped forward and tucked her arm through his, giving him a bright smile that nevertheless was filled with anxiety.
“Have you figured out who hurt my girl yet?” Jean-Claude asked Danner.
“Annette had an envelope with a lock of hair,” Nicholette told him. “She was carrying it around the night she was killed.” She quickly brought him up to date on what was being discussed.
“The lock of hair might not have anything to do with Annette’s death,” Suzette said hurriedly. “I don’t even believe she was killed. It was an accident. It had to be! No one wanted to harm Annette.”
Jean-Claude patted her arm in a distracted way, then bowled them over by saying, “Annette told me about the lock of hair. She said she thought it was from that boy who died. Lucas Moore.”
“Daddy!” Juliette was shocked.
In the same moment, Suzette cried, “That’s stupid! I don’t believe it!”
“It’s what she said,” Jean-Claude responded wearily. “Some of her last words to me.”
That stopped them all cold. Coby watched as her father next headed down the steps, heading their way, one of the last of the mourners to leave the hall. But her mind was whirling. How had Annette made that connection? Did she know something more? Was that her secret? She and Danner had arrived at that theory only after Annette’s death had made them think about Lucas having died in the same area, with some of the same people around.
Dave Rendell hesitated a moment, as if unsure at the last minute that he wanted to join their assembly, but then Faith stepped briskly toward him and he was compelled to come with her. By now Big Bob and McKenna had moved on and Wynona was nowhere to be seen.
“Where did Annette get the envelope?” Coby asked Jean-Claude.
“She didn’t say,” he answered. “She told me she didn’t know what to do. She was deeply bothered. I told her not to put so much emphasis on it. She didn’t really know anything.”
“It’s all conjecture,” Jarrod agreed, looking uncomfortable.
Genevieve asked Danner, “Is that your theory, then? That the two deaths are connected? That maybe Lucas’s death wasn’t an accident?” Her whole body was shivering inside her full-length tan wool coat. It wasn’t that cold, and Coby could only conclude she was shaking from emotion.
Nicholette said, her gaze toward her car, “All I care about is finding who killed my sister and why. Why? Maybe the police are making too much of this and it really was an accident.”
Dave said tonelessly, “She was trying to claw her way out and someone held her head down. I’d call that murder.” A small silence held them in its grip. Jean-Claude put a hand on Dave’s shoulder and Dave seemed to shake himself back to the present. He turned to Faith and said, “I think I’m ready to head out now.” For a moment it looked like Faith was going to protest, then the two of them moved off, toward the end of the lot and Faith’s white BMW, having apparently come together.
Danner said as a means of closure, “Think of anything else, just call me.”
“It can’t have been Lucas’s hair,” Genevieve muttered. “Where did it come from? It can’t have been his!”
Hank Sainer, who’d been listening in silence until now, asked, “Has anyone seen Yvette?”
Jean-Claude’s eyes were on Faith’s and Dave’s retreating forms but now he jerked his attention to Hank. “She left,” he stated flatly. “She took her son home.”
Hank’s brows lifted at Jean-Claude’s tone. “I thought . . . since the rest of your daughters are here . . .”
Juliet heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Yvette doesn’t really play by the rules. She never liked Annette all that much. She doesn’t like anybody.”
Jean-Claude blinked at her in surprise and Suzette seized the moment, saying quickly, “Oh, you all know Yvette. She likes to act so tough. You can’t make more of it than it is.”
“Nobody’s suggesting Yvette killed Annette,” Nicholette said, taking a few steps in the direction of her car, getting ready to go. When they all stared at her, she said, “You were all thinking it. Believe me, Yvette’s got her problems, but she was an Ette. We don’t kill each other.”
“Nicholette . . .” Suzette murmured, blushing a bit.
Ignoring her, Nicholette said to Coby, “I hope you’re helping out Detective Lockwood.” She lifted a hand in good-bye and said to the group, “Coby’s good, you know. At figuring things out. The firm would practically sink without her.”
“Nicholette sure loves the last word,” Juliet said coolly.
Coby felt the group’s collective gaze turn to her. Suzette moved closer into Galen’s arms. Seeing them, Juliet sidled closer to Kirk, but his dark eyes were assessing Coby. He turned to Danner. “That true? Is she helping you find the killer?”
“I’d like everybody’s help,” Danner said.
“Bullshit answer. You guys have teamed up.” Kirk snorted. “Fine. Figure out who drowned her. I sure as hell don’t have any answers.” With that he took off, and after half a beat Paul and Vic followed him.
Donald Greer spoke up for the first time. Clearing his throat, he intoned in his vice principal voice, “We’re all upset. Piling on the drama, perhaps. If we think of anything, we’ll be sure and let you know, Danner . . . Detective Lockwood.” His smile was faint. “Sometimes it’s hard to look at you all as adults.”
The rest of them took his words as a cue to leave. Coby fell in step with Danner on the way to her Nissan, then felt a cold shock when she saw that Wynona was standing beside her car.
“Who’s that?” Danner asked.
“Wynona Greer. Donald’s daughter.”
“Maybe I should come with you,” he said, undoubtedly wary of Wynona’s stony expression and frozen manner.
“No, it’s okay,” Coby said. “I’ll check in with you later.”
She peeled off from Danner. Reaching her car, she asked Wynona, “You waiting for me?”
For a moment Wynona looked like she wanted to deny the obvious, maybe even to bolt, but then she seemed to think better of it and said, “I overheard some of what you were talking about.”
“Yeah?”
“It always goes back to that night, doesn’t it?” Wynona said with a trace of bitterness. “Lucas’s hair, and all that.”
“We don’t know that the hair is—” Coby began, but Wynona waved her off.
“Jean-Claude said Annette thought it was Lucas’s. She must’ve thought that for a reason, so I’m sure it is his hair. Somebody’s kept it all these years. Some sicko from that night. I mean, I’m sorry Annette’s dead and all. I really am, even though she could say some hurtful things.” She glanced toward her dad, who was standing by his vehicle, a Chevrolet sedan, and waiting for Wynona, looking somewhat anxious that she was talking to Coby. “You know my dad is friends with Jean-Claude, too,” she said, as if Coby had questioned her. “I’ve hung around the Ette sisters more than I’d like. Yvette’s a bitch, but Annette was . . . so judgmental. And then Juliet and Suzette . . .” She shrugged. “Anyway, it just all goes back to that night. Certainly screwed me up. I’m sure Annette told you about my problems.”
Coby hardly knew what to say. “I just want to know who killed her.”
“Yvette would be my guess,” Wynona said.
“Nicholette doesn’t think so.”
Wynona snorted. “You heard Juliet. Yvette hated her. Annette could be so bold. Nothing was off-limits. She would just zing you with stuff. Give her a few drinks and there were no holds barred. She certainly let me know that she thought I didn’t really try to kill myself. That both of my suicide attempts failed because I wasn’t serious. That I was just looking for attention. I imagine that’s what you think, too.”
Coby said truthfully, “I think any suicide attempt is real. I don’t care what the reason is.”
Wynona regarded her silently for a moment. Coby got the feeling Annette wasn’t the only judgmental one. “Okay,” she said after several tense beats. Then, “I’ll say it again: if you’
re looking for Annette’s killer, it’s Yvette. Annette must have learned something about Yvette and she was going to tell everybody about it. That was Annette’s way. And Yvette’s totally unstable.” She smiled faintly. “Maybe it takes one to know one. So maybe Annette was going to name Benedict’s father, or maybe it was something else. Either way, my money’s on Yvette, no matter what Nicholette says. Believe me, the Ettes aren’t that close. They’d kill each other over the right thing.”
“Wynona!” Donald’s voice reached them across the parking lot and Wynona headed his way.
Coby climbed into the car and sat a moment at the wheel. In her rearview she watched Donald and Wynona leave the parking lot.
Rap, rap, rap!
She jumped about a foot at the sound against her driver’s window. “Jesus,” she murmured, seeing Hank Sainer outside. She switched on the ignition, then pressed the button to roll down the window.
She looked at him expectantly, and he pressed his lips together, as if he were regretting the need to say anything. “Mr. Sainer?” she asked.
“Hank. Please. I’d like to talk to you, Coby.”
“About . . . . Annette?” she asked carefully.
“Could we meet next week? Maybe Monday? I’ll come to your office. Does that work?”
“You sure you don’t want to talk to Danner?”
“No, this isn’t . . . no.” He smiled tightly.
“I spoke with Dana a few days ago,” she said.
“I know.” He nodded several times. “She told me. She was seriously thinking of coming to the memorial service, but it’s a long flight. So, I’ll see you Monday?”
“Just call and let me know what time,” Coby said. “I could have a meeting.”
“Okay.” He straightened, knocked his knuckles on the hood of her car a couple of times, then strode quickly away to a silver Land Rover.
Huh, Coby thought. Maybe this had something to do with Dana instead of Annette.
Danner drove back to the station, lost in thought, some about his impressions from the memorial service, some about Coby. Most about Coby. But as he entered the squad room, his attention was brought back to the Lloyd case with a bang as Jarvis Lloyd was sitting in the chair beside Danner’s desk, bent over to where his forehead nearly touched his knees, weeping silently while Celek looked on uncomfortably and Lieutenant Draden—Drano—stood in his office doorway, frowning. As soon as they saw Danner, they both broke into action: Drano signaling for him to come inside his office; Celek, relieved, grabbing his coat, ready to make a quick exit.