by Mary Burton
Zack stared at the more than decade-old crime scene photos. And then he noticed the date. ‘Shit.’
‘What?’
‘Yesterday was the twelve-year anniversary of the Hines murder/suicide.’
Warwick tightened his jaw and turned down a country road. ‘This is a little too connected to be a coincidence.’
‘Yeah.’
Another right and another left and they arrived at the Hines’ driveway. As Graves’s map indicated, it was marked by a tall oak tree that had been split down the center by lightning. The rusty mailbox had long fallen from its post and lay on the side of the road covered in weeds.
They drove down the rutted driveway until they reached the end. Before them stood the charred remains of the home Lindsay had grown up in. The only part of the structure left standing was the brick fireplace and the foundation.
They got out and walked toward the foundation.
‘Who owns the land?’ Warwick said.
‘Lindsay said the county took it for back taxes about eight years ago. They tried to sell it to a developer, but the well water in the area turned up contaminated from one of Hines’s underground storage tanks. Remediation was too expensive so the land has just been sitting.’
Lindsay had said her mother had loved to garden, but there were only hints of the flower beds she’d told him covered the property. Soil mounds for vegetables cut through a portion of the field behind the house. A flowering vine twisted around a gazebo that had been ravaged by the weather and time. And on the back of the lot, there was a greenhouse.
‘Let’s have a look.’
They walked around the house’s foundation toward the greenhouse. Most of the windows had been shattered by vandals’ rocks. The door hung on one hinge and it was easy to push open. Inside were rows of long-dead plants and a collection of clay pots. Zack picked up a stack of pots. Lindsay’s birthday was tomorrow. If he had time, he’d clean these up for her.
‘We’d better get back to town,’ Warwick said.
‘Yeah.’
As they turned, Zack spotted words carved over the doorjamb. The letters were crude and looked as if they’d been carved with a knife.
He reached up and wiped the dirt free. The words read, L and J forever. ‘L and J. What was Graves’s grandson’s name?’
‘Joel Heckman.’
‘Let’s have a chat with Joel.’
It wasn’t hard to find Joel Heckman. He worked at a bicycle shop in the town of Ashland, the county seat. Zack and Warwick stepped through the shop’s doors fifteen minutes later.
A lean man in his early thirties stood behind a glass display case filled with expensive bike accessories. He was holding a bike shoe and trying to fasten a clip to the bottom. ‘Welcome. Can I help you?’
Both detectives pulled out their badges as they approached the counter.
‘Joel Heckman?’ Warwick queried.
‘Yeah.’
‘We came to ask you a few questions about Lindsay O’Neil.’
He looked puzzled. ‘O’Neil?’
‘You’d know her as Lindsay Hines.’
Joel’s eyes widened. ‘Lindsay. God, I haven’t seen her in years. What’s this all about? Is she okay?’
‘She’s fine,’ Zack said. ‘We’re looking into her background.’
Joel nodded. ‘Her mother’s murder.’
‘Yeah,’ Zack said. ‘What can you tell us about it?’
He shoved out a breath and set down the shoe. ‘I wish I’d gone into the house with her that day. I always thought if I’d gone in I might have found her mother first and spared her the sight.’
‘But you just dropped her off,’ Zack said.
‘Yeah. She was excited to be home early. It was Thursday and her mother’s regular afternoon off. Her mom had started working at the diner in town and had to work all the time. They didn’t see each other much.’
‘Know anything about her extended family? She ever talk about anyone?’ Warwick said.
‘Naw, she never talked about them at all. I think her mom had a falling out with her family. They didn’t like Frank, I think.’
‘She talk about anything?’ Zack said.
‘She always kept the conversation light. She never brought friends home and spent a lot of time in the library. She could have graduated a year earlier because she had so many credits but she wanted to stay in town. I think now it was to be close to her mom. Maybe she thought she was protecting her.’
‘What about her father?’ Warwick said.
‘There’s no nice way to say it – he was an asshole. He lost his temper once with her at the pool because she kept him waiting five minutes.’ Joel shook his head. ‘Lindsay had been giving a kid a swimming lesson. The kid was terrified of the water and Linz always spent extra time with her.’
Linz. Joel’s affection for Lindsay was clear. ‘She was your friend.’
‘Yeah. She was great. And I can tell you she didn’t deserve her father’s shit. I can tell you if Frank Hines hadn’t killed himself, there were about a half dozen people in town who would have killed him. Myself included.’
Chapter Fourteen
Tuesday, July 8, 10:00 A.M.
Vega and Ayden pulled up in front of Ruby Dillon’s small brick house, located just a couple of miles east of Richmond International Airport. Crabgrass covered the front lawn, but there was a stack of neatly piled bricks, as if someone was planning to fix the place up. There were three cars parked out front. By the looks of the property, several people lived there.
This was Vega’s neck of the woods. He’d grown up in the east end of the county. His old man had worked for one of the airlines and his mom had taught math at Highland Springs High School. His little brother, Michael, was a cornerback on the same school’s football team. Both his folks were active in the church.
As Vega and Ayden got out of the car, a jet engine roared over their heads. Vega glanced up at the sky. He’d never gotten used to the noise. His roots were in this part of New Kent County, but he’d chosen to live twenty miles east in a rural section.
They strode to the front porch. Rap music blared from inside the tiny house. The music was so loud that Vega could feel the bass in his chest.
Ayden rang the bell. ‘My boys like this crap. I bet they’re cranking it just as loud at my house.’
‘I thought they were going to summer school.’
‘The oldest is. The younger one works afternoons at a hardware store.’
‘They doing all right?’
Ayden frowned. ‘We’re all still stumbling through the motions. Carol has been gone a year and a half and we still can’t get our shit together.’ He pounded on the door. This time a dog started to bark.
‘At least the dog knows we’re here,’ Vega said.
The sound of locks unlatching followed. Ruby Dillon opened the door. She wore a brown and orange uniform. Vega and Ayden knew that she worked as a nurse’s aid at Virginia Commonwealth University Medical Center. They pulled out their shields as she faced them.
Ruby frowned and then turned to shout, ‘Brianna, turn that music down!’ After a second’s pause, the music stopped. She didn’t open the screen door. ‘You come about that dead man, I suppose.’
Ayden nodded. ‘Yes, ma’am. We’d like to ask you some questions.’
Her jaw set. ‘I spoke to two other detectives yesterday. I’ve told them all that I know.’
‘We’ve got a few more questions, if you don’t mind,’ Vega said.
Ruby pursed her lips. ‘I do mind, as a matter of fact. I’ve got to get to work.’
The woman looked familiar to Vega. He’d bet money she knew his mother through the church. His mother knew everyone in this part of the county. ‘Excuse me for asking, but do you know Rita Vega?’
Ruby eyed him. ‘Maybe I do.’
Vega smiled. He was good at shooting the shit and getting people to warm up. ‘You go to Third Baptist?’
‘I do.’
‘Thought
so. My parents attend. Mom’s been a fixture there for twenty years.’
Ruby’s frown softened. ‘You’re one of Rita’s boys?’
‘I am.’
Her stance relaxed. ‘I haven’t seen Rita in a few weeks. How she doing?’
‘Fine. My brother, Michael, is giving her fits. He gets his driver’s license in a week and can’t wait to drive. Dad swears his heart won’t be able to take Michael driving.’
Ruby chuckled. ‘Michael’s a good boy. Full of piss and vinegar, but he’s good. Rita and George will get a handle on him.’ She was thoughtful for a moment. ‘Your mama was one of the few that was nice to me when I got released from jail. She even took Brianna shopping for her prom dress this spring.’
Vega and Ayden had discussed Ruby on the way over. She had been hiding cocaine for her boyfriend when the cops busted her. She’d done six months in exchange for testimony against him. He was now doing ten years at Greensville Prison. But they had realized this morning that the boyfriend, as it turned out, worked for Ronnie T.
Ruby pushed open the screen door. ‘I got a couple of minutes before I got to go. Come on in.’
Vega promised himself he owed his mother a big thank-you. If not for her, Ruby Dillon would have shut the door on them now.
Ayden didn’t look rushed. He glanced at the surrounding yards before stepping over the threshold into the house. ‘We’ll do our best to hurry things along.’
Vega’s gaze scanned the living room, which reminded him so much of his parents’. The furniture was old and worn, but the room was neat and organized. Off the living room at the kitchen table sat a teenage girl. She wore shoulder-length braids and an Usher T-shirt. No doubt that was Brianna, the one who had been playing the loud music.
Ruby didn’t move from the small foyer nor did she offer them a seat.
‘Tell me about yesterday,’ Vega said. ‘How did you find the body?’
Ruby sighed her impatience. ‘I told that Detective Kier yesterday that I got the shelter women off to work and the kids off to school. It was a regular day and nothing out of the ordinary. I loaded up the trash like I do each morning I work at the shelter and took it out to the trash cans. That’s when I found him.’
‘You didn’t see anyone else in the backyard?’ Ayden said.
‘Nope. And I didn’t hear or smell nothing either.’
‘What about during the night?’ Vega said.
‘Quiet. But I did hear a dog barking around five. It woke me up. I got up and looked out the front window but didn’t see anything.’
‘How many nights a week do you stay at the shelter?’ Ayden asked.
‘Three or four, depending on the schedule. My son stays with Brianna when I’m gone overnight. I generally show up around five and leave by ten. Yesterday was the exception. I stayed late to help Lindsay.’
‘You were there when the flowers were delivered?’
‘I was.’
‘Did you see who dropped off the flowers?’
‘I didn’t. Lindsay’s office is closer to the front door than mine, so it would be simple for anyone to come in the front door and drop the box on her desk. I thought I heard somebody but figured it was a cop. After I answered all those calls, I went into Lindsay’s office, thinking she’d returned. That’s when I saw the box.’
‘Did you open it?’ Vega said.
‘Well, yeah, I peeked inside. Lindsay never, ever gets flowers and I wanted to see what she’d gotten.’ She shuddered. ‘I had no idea what was under those blossoms.’
‘Did you look at the note?’ Ayden asked.
‘No. The note was private.’
‘Did the shelter have any trouble recently? Other than yesterday?’ Vega said.
‘One of our residents, Aisha Greenland, kept getting calls from her husband, Marcus, on her cell phone. He left her all kinds of nasty messages. Finally, Lindsay had Aisha change the number. And a couple of weeks ago, we had to toss a gal out for drug possession. She was pissed.’
‘She got a name?’
‘Sally somebody. It’s in Lindsay’s records.’
‘I didn’t see surveillance cameras at the shelter,’ Ayden said.
‘We can’t afford them right now.’
Vega made a note. ‘Is there anything else you can tell us?’
Ruby’s first response was to shake her head no, but then she stopped. ‘Well, I’ll tell you, last week something did happen, here, at my house. It wasn’t much and I didn’t bother to tell Lindsay.’
‘What happened?’ Vega said.
‘I had a break-in. Someone came inside my home while I was at work and Brianna was at school. Nothing was taken but I knew someone was here.’
‘Any idea what they were looking for?’ Ayden said.
‘There was a time when someone might have found something, but I did my time and there is no more of that here.’
‘You report it?’ Ayden said.
‘No. Like I said, nothing was taken. But someone was in my house.’
The detectives asked a couple more follow-up questions about Ruby’s job and Lindsay’s work. Nothing out of the ordinary came up and they left.
‘So why break into a woman’s house and not take anything?’ Vega said as they walked to their car.
‘I hate coincidences,’ Ayden answered.
‘So do I.’
Chapter Fifteen
Tuesday, July 8, 11:00 A.M.
Mental Health Services was in a one-story brick building that was curtained off from the main road by a row of trees. It had tinted windows and nondescript signage. Few noticed it when they drove by.
Lindsay was on staff at Mental Health Services as a full-time counselor. Tuesdays and Wednesdays, she worked eight-hour days. On Thursdays she worked a twenty-four-hour shift, manning the crisis line. The rest of her time was spent at the shelter.
Since the shelter location was a secret, she used this facility to meet with her shelter family members on Mondays and Fridays. The county also allowed her to host her shelter’s board of directors’ meetings in the main conference room and interview potential shelter staff here on her off days.
Today, like every Tuesday, her morning was insanely busy. She had held her regularly scheduled counseling sessions and had also ended up on the phone with her board director, Dana Miller. The conversation had lasted almost a half hour. Keeping her tone positive, she had filled Dana in on everything about the Turner murder investigation. Dana had reminded her that so far she’d been able to keep the press at bay. Lindsay had thanked her and promised that with luck they’d be back in business by the end of the week.
Dana hadn’t sounded happy, but she hadn’t complained too much.
Lindsay’s last morning appointment was with Howard and Marilyn Jackson. The couple were in their late fifties, came from an affluent background, and split their time between Richmond and Boca Raton. Lindsay had first met the couple when she’d helped their twenty-six-year-old battle alcoholism. Brenda had moved in with the couple a few months ago, and all had seemed well – until last week, when Marilyn had discovered her daughter was using illegal drugs. Marilyn had called Lindsay on Sunday night for help. Lindsay had agreed to a Tuesday appointment.
Marilyn and Howard sat side by side across the conference table from Lindsay. Dark circles marred the white flesh under Howard’s eyes. Clearly he’d not been sleeping. And the lines in Marilyn’s face looked deeper.
‘How long do you think she’s been using?’ Lindsay said.
Marilyn’s large purse sat in her lap as if it were a shield. ‘I don’t know. Years maybe. I’m starting to wonder if we ever knew her.’
Howard remained silent, his arms folded over his chest. Deep wrinkles creased his temples and the corners of his mouth.
‘Will she come and talk to me?’ Lindsay offered. ‘I’ve dealt with my share of drug addicts and alcoholics.’
Marilyn shook her head. ‘She refuses to talk to you or attend any AA meetings. She thinks she has all the answ
ers. She thinks she’s in control.’
‘Believe me, she’s not in control,’ Lindsay said.
Howard nodded as if he was relieved to hear someone else say those words.
Lindsay understood firsthand how difficult and persuasive substance abusers could be. ‘What I’m proposing won’t be easy.’
Howard shifted forward as if needing a plan of action. ‘We’ll do what it takes.’
Lindsay nodded, saying, ‘Don’t underestimate what it takes to help her get clean and sober.’
Marilyn lifted her chin. ‘We’re not afraid of hard work.’
Hard didn’t begin to describe what lay ahead. ‘You need to tell Brenda that if she doesn’t get help there are going to be consequences.’
‘Such as?’ Howard said.
‘If she doesn’t stop drinking and using, then you will withdraw all financial support. No access to your cash, definitely no use of your car, until she sees me or an AA counselor. And you can always ask her to leave your house.’
Marilyn’s shoulders slumped. ‘How can we ever ask her to leave? She depends on us so much. I don’t want to see her suffer anymore.’
‘I understand the rough road you face,’ Lindsay said softly. ‘I’m not saying you put her out on the street today. But she needs to understand if she’s going to stay in your house, she’s expected to be clean and sober. It’s your house and your rules.’ Lindsay kept her tone gentle. ‘The alcohol and drugs are eating her up. It’s only going to get worse.’
Tears ran down Marilyn’s lined face. ‘But she needs our help. And I’m afraid if she doesn’t have us, she’ll go back to her ex-husband.’
Lindsay thought back to the hour-long conversation they’d had on Sunday. ‘Brenda is twenty-six, and she doesn’t have a job. She depends on you for cash, which she’s using to buy drugs and alcohol. She’s stolen from you. Marilyn, it’s time to stop making it so easy for her to drink and use.’
Marilyn started to weep.
Howard’s frown deepened. ‘Have you ever been through anything like this? And I mean personally, not just professionally.’
Lindsay nodded. ‘As a matter of fact, I have. I’ve been through the kind of battle you are going to fight.’