Skin Puppet: Reightman & Bailey Book Three
Page 31
“Good point,” she agreed. “Speaking of which, you certainly got bent out of shape.”
“I know.” Toby stopped on the sidewalk and confessed. “I thought for a minute I screwed things up. Do you think I was wrong?”
She considered his question seriously for moment, before shaking her head. “No, I don’t. If you hadn’t said what you did, I probably would have. I was surprised, that’s all. You’re usually the reasonable one, and I’m usually the bitch.”
“I think you might be rubbing off on me,” he joked as they resumed their walk. “You never take any crap.”
They had a quick lunch, although Melba noticed Toby was uncharacteristically modest about the amount of food he ordered. After settling the bill, they enjoyed the weather on the walk back to meet with Thorton and Mitchell.
Like their meeting with Tom and team, they were familiar with the progress on the case. The main benefit was meeting Mitchell’s partner. The detective seemed pretty sharp, and there was a sense of easy familiarity between he and Mitchell that spoke well of their working relationship. Thorton agreed to set up appointments for them to talk with the victim’s families directly, although he wasn’t convinced there was any new information to be had. Toby didn’t offer any comment. He gave Mitchell a few possible times for the interviews, and Melba noticed he was somewhat reticent during the conversation. Not unfriendly, just guarded. She allowed herself a brief internal sigh, thinking back to the days of happy camaraderie Mitchell and her partner had shared last fall, and wondered if they’d ever find that again. “Only time will tell,” she concluded before they made their way down to the coroner’s suite on the basement floor.
Like she had with Laurie, Melba presented Thorton with one of the white envelopes. While not as effusive as Laurie, he was nevertheless, pleased.
“What’s the deal with handing out all those invitations?” Toby asked as they headed to the elevators that would take them downstairs to the Coroner’s Office.
“To tell you the truth, I’m trying to make sure we have a good turnout. I don’t want Zhou Li to be disappointed. She has it in her head we’re going to be standing room only.”
“Oh. Are you worried the turnout will be low?”
“I’m not sure. I figure it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“Why does it seem like the dead bodies are always kept in the basement?” Toby asked as they stepped out of the elevator.
“Don’t know,” she shrugged. “Maybe it’s a case of ‘out of sight, out of mind.’ Dead bodies make people nervous, although it’s the living bodies who cause all the problems.” Before opening the door into the coroner’s small suite, she hesitated. “Toby, whatever Dr. Evans has to share is going to be fairly gruesome. Anderson wouldn’t have bothered to mention it if it wasn’t.”
“I figured as much. I’m prepared, but thanks for the warning. I’ll be okay.”
Once seated in Dr. Evans’ office, Melba found she was the one having the most trouble with the information the coroner and Dr. Bridges shared. Maybe it had something to do with the fact the victims were young girls. She closed her eyes and uttered a short prayer of thanksgiving that her own grandbabies were safe. Once the coroner wrapped up her summary, Melba confirmed both that she and Thelma-Louise had received their invitations and were planning to attend.
She was quiet and thoughtful as they walked to visitor’s parking.
“You okay, Melba?”
“I’m fine. Tom was right—that was disturbing.”
“Yeah, it was. I can’t decide what was the worst. We have a few minutes before we’re supposed to meet Edmondson and Agent Garfield. Anywhere you need to stop?”
“No. You?”
“Well, I thought maybe we could take a pass by Lucy Escabar’s school and then follow the route she might have taken on her way home the day she went missing.”
“Good idea,” Melba commented approvingly as she switched lanes to make the left-hand turn needed given the suggested detour. “What made you think of that?”
“Just seems logical. I think we should work in a discussion with her teacher in the next couple of days since we’re talking to the families anyway. School was the last place she was seen.”
“You want to take the lead on that?”
“You mean, by myself?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Well, what if I miss something?”
“You won’t,” she assured him. “After all, you were the one with the idea.”
She could see his pleased smile out of the corner of her eye as she slowed the car and passed the elementary school. She carefully traced the route as best she could, given the young girl had probably cut across parking lots and through yards. Kids always found the most efficient short-cut.
Toby made notes about the route as she drove. “Anything stand out to you?”
“Nothing off the top of my head. Everything seems pretty open and there aren’t any alleys she could have used.”
“That’s what I was thinking. I don’t think anyone could have snatched her off the street without being noticed, especially if she went unwillingly.”
Neither needed to comment on the implication. If Lucy had been taken anywhere along the route they’d just followed, it had been willingly. And probably, by someone she knew.
***
The few cryptic hints Allen Edmondson tossed out established a mental picture in Melba’s mind regarding his partner. She was pleasantly surprised when the generously built, light-skinned African-American woman seated in the booth across from him stood and eagerly offered her hand.
“Hi. You must be Melba Reightman and Toby Bailey. I’d recognize you anywhere from the description Allen provided,” she bubbled as she reached out her hand to shake each of theirs. “I’m Agent Vonda Garfield, but you probably already guessed that. Anyway, I’m pleased to meet you both.”
“Hello,” Melba responded. “You’re right, I’m Melba and this is my partner, Toby.”
They slid into the booth; Melba across from Edmondson and Toby across from Agent Garfield. “I hope you haven’t been waiting too long,” Toby offered, taking in Garfield‘s short, tightly curled hair, navy suit and crisp white blouse. To all outward appearance, she looked the part of the stereotypical Federal Agent, regardless of her affable greeting. “We took a bit of a detour on our way here. If we’re late, blame it on me.”
“Not at all,” Edmondson replied. “We purposely got here early. Agent Garfield and I needed to catch up on some things she just wrapped up in Atlanta. We’ve each had a beer, but she wouldn’t even let me order appetizers until you arrived.”
“Did he toss you a candy bar?” Toby asked, ignoring Edmondson’s not-to-subtle head shake.
Garfield looked at her partner with narrowed eyes. “What has Allen been telling you all about me?”
“Nothing much,” Toby answered innocently. “Just that you and I share a love of sweets.”
“I can’t tell for sure, but I think you’re feeding me a line of horse crap. Word of warning though—probably about eighty percent of what he’s said about me is false. For some reason, he likes to paint me as a real hard case. I grant you, I canbe tough—no mistake about that—but most of the time, I’m as nice as nice can be.”
Edmondson’s laugh of disbelief turned into a grunt of surprise. Apparently, his partner had kicked him under the table and the look she directed his way promised further retribution.
Dinner was an easy, pleasant affair, and they each offered snippets of information about each other as the meal progressed. Toby and Garfield bonded over a shared piece of rich chocolate pie, and through mutual agreement, refused to give anyone else even a bite. Garfield was offered a tour of the Reightman & Bailey Agency the following day, and quickly accepted. Once the bill was settled, this time split equally between the four of them, they made their goodbyes.
“She seems nice,” Toby commented as they walked back to the car. “But I think she can open a can of whoop ass w
hen she needs to.”
“I think you’re right,” Melba agreed. “And I bet she can manage Edmondson like nobody’s business. You want me to drop you at the office or across the street at your apartment?”
“In front of the studio’s fine. Let me just text Jon and tell him we’re done with dinner.”
“Isn’t one dessert a night enough?” Melba teased.
He refrained from answering, other than giving her an exaggerated eye roll.
***
“So, what do you think about our local consultants?” Edmondson asked as he ferried Garfield to her hotel.
“I think you should have done your homework before your mouth overloaded your butt,” she retorted. “If you’re a smart man—which you know I constantly question—you won’t make the same mistake again.”
He ignored her jab. “Did you have a chance to look over the other files?”
“Yes, I did. Impressive new acquaintances you’ve made over the last couple of days. The quality of the company you’re keeping has improved, myself excluded, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Have you had a chance for a one-on-one conversation with Jon Chiang?”
“No. There hasn’t been a chance. Why?”
“No real reason. I just think it’s always handy to know what resources are available if needed. And to have a good relationship established.” The last comment was somewhat pointed, but Edmondson admitted he probably deserved it.
“You think there’s going to be a need, Vonda?”
“Hope not, but better safe than sorry. Hey, pull over at that corner store for a minute, will ya?”
“Why?” Edmondson asked as he edged over into the turning lane.
“I need snacks,” was the predictable answer. “Gotta’ stock up on candy bars. Apparently, I have a reputation to uphold.”
“You’re going to make me regret that, aren’t you?”
“Is that even a serious question, Allen? Of course I am.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SarahJune greeted them as they walked into the office Wednesday morning. “You guys look beat.”
“Jon was pretty hard on us this morning,” Toby grumbled. “Anything happening here?”
“I have just a just a couple of things to run by you both,” she replied, consulting her notepad. “First of all, Mrs. Escabar can meet with you this afternoon around three-thirty. She said she needs to pick her son up from day care, but should be home by then. I checked both of your calendars, and it looks like the time is okay. Here’s the address and directions.” After handing over the print-out, she continued, “The soonest Lucy’s teacher can meet with you is Monday afternoon. Apparently, they have training sessions scheduled every afternoon the rest of this week. I told her you’d meet her Monday, right after classes let out. It’s on your calendar as well, Toby.” She consulted her final note and looked up with a grin. “I met with a guy from the band that’s going to be playing at the party. I have to say, I’m glad I haven’t found a date yet. He’s yummy! We worked everything out, and they’ll be here about an hour before the event starts. I told him I was more than happy to meet them here, even though I knew Bernice was going to be setting up and could let them in. He seemed very appreciative.”
“You go, girl,” Melba congratulated her. “Although, what if he’s already attached?”
“I checked. In fact, I flat out asked him. He’s a free agent.” She looked down at her desk for a minute before giving them a guilty smile. “I also ran him through the system. I know I shouldn’t have, but I really wanted to know. I rationalized it as a security check, since were going to have so many VIPs here.”
“Good thinking, and certainly plausible,” Melba responded dryly. “You get an ‘A’ for creative thinking.”
“Ummm, thanks,” SarahJune responded, clearly relieved not to have to explain her reasoning further. “Finally, do either of you know anything about the tent?”
“What tent?” Melba had a hunch where this was headed.
“Well…I ran across the street to get a couple of blueberry muffins and Bernice happened to mention she was worried about having enough catering staff to cover all the stations. Apparently, in addition to having snacks and a bar inside, Madame Zhou arranged for an overflow tent outside, in case of bad weather. To handle the crowds. The city has agreed to block off the street, and Bernice says Zhou Li hired a company to provide shuttles from the big parking garage.”
Melba’s head began to throb, and she resolved to stuff a few more envelopes in her purse to hand out as the occasion arose. “First I heard of it. How about you, Toby?”
“It news to me, but I can’t say I’m surprised. She’s pretty determined to make this the party of the decade.”
“Tell me about it.” Melba fantasized briefly about possible ways to head off what could be a disappointing disaster and almost immediately decided it was too late. All they could do now was make sure as many folks as possible attended. “I’m going to hit the shower, and then I need to meet Moon. She insisted we do the fittings this morning. I told her not to worry about it, but it’s clear she needs as much normality as possible right now.”
“How’s she doing?”
Melba could only shrug. “You know, SarahJune, it’s hard to tell. Obviously, she’s upset and worried, but she’s trying hard to put on a brave face. She’s doing better than I would under similar circumstances. I think she just wants to keep busy if she can.”
“That’s probably all she can do,” Toby offered. “Speaking from experience, sometimes it’s the only thing that helps.”
SarahJune nodded in agreement, then held her nose and shoed them away to hit the locker rooms. To further emphasize her point, she pointed the can of air freshener their direction and pushed the spay button a few times. They took the hint.
***
“I am distressingly sorry to have to ask you to make this terribly awful decision, Detective, but if my exceedingly talented and over-booked seamstress is only able to have one of these incomparable choices ready for your gala celebration, which would you choose?”
Moon waited anxiously, while Melba untangled the words and made her choice. “The navy, I guess. It’s probably the safest.”
“Are you perfectly certain?” Moon herself sounded unsure, and had obviously been hoping the dark red dress would get the nod.
“Yes, I think so.” Melba slipped out of the borrowed shoes Moon had loaned her when she realized she’d forgotten her own at home. “I know I left myself a note,” she thought as she considered the red dress once more, second-guessing her choice. “No, the navy is more practical,” she decided before turning back to Moon. “I’ll save the snazzy crimson number for a more festive occasion,” Melba assured her, even though she couldn’t imagine a more appropriate event in her probable future. She had another momentary pang of regret with her choice and with her lack of social life, but stuck to her guns and redirected the conversation. “Are you sure you won’t come on Sunday, Moon? It might do you good to get out.”
Moon nodded sadly. “I’m sure. My spirit will not be bright enough for such a glittering gathering. I do, however, have an offer to make, if you will allow.”
“Of course. What’s on your mind?”
“Well…I thought of a contribution I could make. I understand your wonderful daughter is bringing her delightful children with her to help celebrate. I know they will be thrilled with the party, but I also know sometimes fancy occasions lose their appeal for young hearts and minds. With that in mind, I thought I’d offer to keep them entertained after they had a chance to enjoy the festivities. They could come here, and play dress-up.”
Melba was gob-smacked at the offer. “Moon, that’s incredibly generous,” she began, trying to imagine the havoc her rambunctious granddaughters might wreck on the merchandise of Passed Around, not to mention the elegant interior. “I have to warn you, they’re pretty active. And are you sure you’re up to it? I mean…”
�
��You’re worried they might remind me of my own missing child.” Moon smiled sadly in acknowledgement of Melba’s unfinished sentence. “They might. But in a good way, I assure you. You see, I never had the chance to play dress-up with Diane.”
Melba’s heart ached in sympathy at her friend’s admission of opportunities lost—perhaps forever. “Well, if you’re positive. I have to check with Abby, of course. But if she agrees, I’ll take you up on it. I just hope you realize what you’re asking for. I love them more than life itself, but those girls aren’t angels, by any stretch of the imagination.”
“Angels are overrated,” Moon responded. “It will be fun.”
“Then, thank you. I’ll let you know as soon as I check with my daughter.” Melba stepped forward and gave her friend a hug, which surprised them both. As her arms wrapped around the silently weeping woman, Melba knew she’d done the right thing. Moon slowly relaxed into the embrace for a moment or two, before slowly extracting herself.
“Thank you for that, Detective. I was worried that you might not still consider me a friend after what I revealed about myself.”
Melba had wondered the same thing, but at that instant, all doubts vanished. “Moon, I admit I needed to think everything through, but you’ll alwaysbe my friend—no matter what. Although, I wish you’d stop with the ‘Detective’ stuff. My friends call me Melba.”
“If you’re sure…”
“One hundred and ten percent.”
“Then, thank you, Melba. For more than you know.”
***
Lunch with Jill Anthony was more pleasant than Melba feared it might be when she accepted the woman’s invitation the previous week. After meeting Jill on the street and inviting her into the office for a brief tour, she’d been surprised to find her to be very likeable. “Once you get past first impressions, anyway. I just wish she’d relax and not try so hard. It’s probably nerves,” she eventually decided. “After all, we didn’t exactly hit it off the first time we met.”