by Mary Burton
“I’m glad it helped.” Kaitlin took a sip of her soda. “I remember your car pulling up, but I didn’t see you.”
“So, is it my turn to be interviewed?”
“I just want to understand what happened that night.”
Ashley shrugged. “Jennifer didn’t want Mom knowing she was wasted, so she called me. Big sis to the rescue.” She shook her head. “I was pissed, but I came right away to pick her up.”
“You told the police she passed out in the backseat.”
“She did, the second she climbed in. She and Erika both were pretty wasted.”
“You dropped Erika off first?”
“That’s right. And then I drove home with Jennifer.”
“How’d you get her inside the house?”
“It was hard. She could barely stand.”
Kaitlin traced her finger through the condensation on the glass. “Jennifer remembered hearing you argue with a man.”
Ashley stilled. “She was mistaken. I got her to bed and then joined Derek in the family den. About one a.m., we left for a party.”
“Derek was never alone with her?”
“No. I saw to that.”
“Did you have to protect her from Derek?”
She traced the rim of her glass. “No. Stop making him sound like a monster.”
“You’re still loyal to him, aren’t you?”
She lifted her chin. “I can’t betray someone I loved so much. He’s not perfect, but he’s always there for me.”
“Randy and Derek were good buddies.” Kaitlin thought about the country, the barn, and the grim faces of the medical examiner as she’d asked her what Gina had been wearing. “Remember the parties they used to have at the barn?”
“Sure.” Ashley sat back as if the memory bothered her.
“Did Derek ever talk about Gina?”
Ashley studied her a long moment. “Randy talked about her. Randy, not Derek, was obsessed with Gina.”
“Did you tell the cops about Randy’s obsession?”
“Derek asked me not to. He said the guy was a fuck-up but no killer.”
How many half truths and omissions had saved Randy from a murder-one charge? “It might have made a difference.”
“Come on, this is Randy we’re talking about. He isn’t a killer.”
“A security camera filmed him stabbing a woman in mid-February.”
“That was an accident. He was on drugs. It’s not like he planned to do it.” She shook her head. “If having a thing for Gina was a crime, half the guys at Saint Mathew’s would have been suspects. Besides, he’s been back in jail since late February. He couldn’t have killed Erika or Jennifer.”
“What about Derek? Would he have killed them to protect a secret for an old friend?”
Ashley reached for her glass and downed the last of the vodka. “No.”
Kaitlin watched as Ashley’s gaze dropped to her glass. It didn’t take a body-language expert to recognize possible signs of deceptive behavior. “Was Derek in the car that night?”
Absently Ashley nodded, indicating a yes even as she said, “I already told you he wasn’t.”
Kaitlin took a chance, figuring she had nothing to lose by provoking Ashley. “I think you’re lying.”
Ashley looked up as if she’d been struck. Her eyes sparked with challenge. “Fuck you.”
Kaitlin leaned in, knowing she’d struck a nerve. “The cops have all my interview tapes now. They know Jennifer brought the booze and Erika put the Ecstasy in it.”
Ashley pushed out of the booth. “The cops have long forgotten about who was where that night.”
“Don’t bet on it.”
Ashley stood. “I hope you’re right.” Gripping her purse, she turned away from Kaitlin and cut through the crowd and out the front door.
Kaitlin sat in the booth, tracing her finger through the condensation on the side of her glass. She took no joy in hurting people or making them remember such a painful time. But if she didn’t keep pushing, the truth might still get swallowed up by time.
Her phone rang, startling her from her thoughts. The screen displayed Steven Marcus’s name.
She cleared her throat and pushed her hand through her hair before answering. “Mr. Marcus.”
“I hear you’ve been busy today.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I still have friends in the police department. They said a forensic team was headed for Hanover County and that Randy Hayward was along for the ride. They also said the cops think they’ve found Gina.”
“If you’ve got friends in the department, then you know more about it than I do.”
“I know you were up there.”
“Really, how?”
“Randy Hayward called me, and I went by to see him. He wants me to write his side of the story.”
She gripped the phone. “He craves attention. And he’s also looking to hurt me.”
“Why?”
“Because I rejected him. Sure he didn’t have any nasty parting shots for me?”
He was silent for a moment. “Nothing earth shattering.”
She wasn’t sure if she believed him but didn’t have the energy to press it now. “Just don’t be fooled by him.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not that naive. I do want to get your take on the guy. It will make for a more balanced piece.”
“Sure. I’ll share what I know about him.”
Silence echoed through the line. Then, “Tomorrow evening. By then you should have something to comment on.”
INTERVIEW FILE #25
A STORY THAT WOULDN’T LET GO
Friday, August 15, 2014
“This is Steven Marcus, and I first learned about Gina Mason the day after she vanished. The instant I saw her picture, I knew I would do anything I could to find her. I covered her story several times over those first few months, speaking to the cops, the search crews, and her mother. The story was so raw in those days, and I was new to reporting. I was certain no one would forget about her. But as weeks turned into months and then years, people did move on with their lives. I always cover the story the anniversary of Gina’s disappearance. I refuse to let this story disappear like Gina.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Friday, March 23, 2018; 5:00 p.m.
As Ricker stood by him, Adler knelt by the path of scraggly grass he’d spotted from the tree stand. He scooped up a handful of soil and slowly let it trickle from his fingers.
“Detective Adler. If you don’t need us anymore, we’ll take off.” The question came from one of the members of the GPR crew.
Adler wiped his hands and rose. “Before you pack up, would you scan this area?”
“Sure. I’ll get the crew right now.”
“Give me a shout if you find something,” Adler said.
“Will do, Detective,” he said.
Ricker studied the patch of ground. “Do you think it’s another one?”
“God, I hope not,” Adler said.
Dr. McGowan motioned them over. A humming generator powered the lights at the excavation site as Adler and Ricker strode across undergrowth toward the forensic van she stood beside.
“Detective, Mr. Ricker, I have news,” she said.
Quinn approached the doctor and handed her a hot cup of coffee. “Not the best cup, but it’ll warm you up.”
Dr. McGowan took a sip. “Thanks.”
Quinn shrugged. “Sure.”
“As I said earlier, I found green cloth. I really only have fragments that are clinging to a metal snap.” She handed a plastic evidence bag to Quinn.
The detective held up the bag. “There’s not much of it left, but looks like the remnants of a green dress.”
Adler searched his phone for the picture Jennifer had saved of the four girls by the river. He handed it to Dr. McGowan. “Gina is wearing the green sundress.”
The doctor studied the image. “I see design similarities between this and what I found.”
Ad
ler tucked the phone back in his pocket. “What else have you found?”
“I have unearthed the top portion of the skull. Based on a thin brow line, I can say the victim is a young female.”
“How do you know her age?” Quinn handed the evidence bag to Ricker.
“The sagittal suture.” Dr. McGowan drew her gloved finger over the top of her head. “When we’re born there’s a soft spot in the center of our head. The bones need to be flexible so the brain can grow. But from the day we’re born, the left and right sides of our skull begin to close and create the sagittal suture, which is basically a line down the center of our skull. It continues to harden and close until we’re in our midthirties. Based on this victim’s skull, I believe she was less than twenty years old.”
“Do you know how she died?” Adler asked.
“Too early to say. I don’t see any trauma on the skull, but I have a lot more bones to excavate. I did find the hyoid bone, and it appears intact.” This horseshoe-shaped bone was located in the neck and would snap when a victim was strangled.
“Is she Gina Mason?” Ricker asked.
“My office has requested dental records, so we’ll make a comparison at the lab once I unearth the mandible. I understand Gina had several fillings on her two back molars, so it shouldn’t be too hard.”
“Did you find anything with the bones?” Adler asked.
“Nothing yet, but we’ll be sifting all the dirt as we go.”
Adler remembered Gina’s smiling picture at Kaitlin’s lecture. “How long will it take?” he asked.
“Several hours. There’s no point in you remaining here. I’ll contact you when I’m finished.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Ricker said.
Dr. McGowan left the trio and returned to her crew.
“She’s meticulous and won’t miss a thing.” Quinn rolled her shoulders, then turned her head from side to side.
“Did you bring your yoga mat, Quinn?” Adler asked.
She laughed. “I would have if there weren’t so many cops here.”
The GPR technician called out to Adler and Quinn, “Detectives. A word?”
“I don’t like that look,” Ricker muttered.
“Me neither,” Adler said.
The detectives and Ricker moved toward the technician. The gray image on the radar screen showed a series of waves.
“A body?” Adler asked.
“Looks like it.”
“Jesus, another one?” Quinn whispered.
Adler studied the waves that rolled through the center of the gray image. He turned toward Dr. McGowan and called her over. She slowly rose and crossed the field.
“Have a look at this.”
It took her just a split second. “I’ll get a shovel.”
Without raising his gaze from the screen, Adler said to the technician, “You’re going to need a bigger scanner.”
INTERVIEW FILE #26
WHO KILLED JENNIFER AND ERIKA?
The discovery of Gina’s bones directly implicated Randy Hayward in Gina’s death. He had motive and opportunity, and most of all, he had taken the cops to her body. However, finding Gina didn’t answer the question of who killed Jennifer and Erika. Who stabbed me? Derek Blackstone and Brad Crowley had been friends of Randy Hayward’s in high school and college. They were a triple threat. They had vowed to always stick together and protect each other. And neither had ever had their DNA tested to see if their blood matched the blood on the fragment of dress found by the original crime scene.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Saturday, March 24, 2018; 8:00 a.m.
With her body healing and her mind clearing, Kaitlin could shift her attention to Derek Blackstone, who she was certain knew far more about Gina’s fate than he was letting on. She’d spent most of the night reading up on Derek, scraping together all the details she could find about him. His credentials were impressive. There was nothing that set off alarm bells.
So, when the clock struck eight, Kaitlin decided to shake the trees a little harder and see if anything new fell out. Drawing in a breath, she dialed Derek’s home number. A cleaning lady answered.
“Mr. Blackstone’s residence.”
“This is Kathryn Sommers.” She wasn’t police and therefore not bound by honesty. Lying wasn’t against the law. “I’m calling from Mr. Blackstone’s office building. Is he there?”
“No, he left a half hour ago. He should be arriving there now.”
“Oh, right. I think I see him. Thank you.”
Her next call was to his office, wondering if she’d get anyone to answer on Saturday. As the phone rang, she sat straighter when she heard a woman’s crisp voice say, “Hawthorn, Blackstone, and Myers.”
“I’m calling for Derek Blackstone. I’m a neighbor of his.” She’d thought up a dozen scenarios to get him on the phone, but in the end opted to keep it simple. “I think his house is on fire.”
A leaden silence filled the next few seconds before the woman said, “He’s out of the office today.”
“He is? I just saw him, and he said he was going to the office.”
“Not today.”
“Oh, wow. I called the fire department.” If he were in the office, this would get him to the phone. “Are you sure he’s not there?”
Phones rang in the background. “Look, I can take your name and number and track him down.”
She decided to go aggressive. “What’s your name?”
“I’m sorry?”
“What is your name? And do you have a supervisor?”
“Who is this?” the woman insisted.
She gripped the phone. This ruse wasn’t going to work. “Tell him Gina Mason called. He can call me back at this number.”
She dialed Adler’s number. It rang twice and went to voicemail. A now-familiar graveled tone hummed over her nerves. “Adler, this is Kaitlin. I’m calling about Derek Blackstone. I think his link to this case goes way deeper than attorney-client relationship.”
Adler’s phone buzzed in his pocket, but he let it go to voicemail. He was standing in the medical examiner’s autopsy suite with Quinn and Dr. McGowan. On the two stainless-steel tables were separate sets of bones. Neither set had yet been arranged in anatomical order.
Dr. McGowan clicked on an overhead light. Gingerly she lifted the first skull. “We’ve already taken X-rays and cross-referenced dental records. This is Gina Mason. She’s finally come home.”
He studied the skull cradled in the doctor’s hands. Images of the young woman’s smiling face stoked his anger. This kid had not deserved such a violent fate. “And the other one?”
Dr. McGowan had set the first skull down and picked up the second. “Female. Under the age of twenty, I think.” She turned the skull to the side and traced her finger down a fracture. “Someone hit her hard on the back of her head. The blow was enough to knock her out and maybe kill her. I also noticed that her pelvic bone is broken, suggesting there was more trauma. I can’t tell you if that occurred ante- or postmortem. The pelvis is very vascular, and if she were alive, this would have caused tremendous bleeding and pain.”
He hoped to hell it was postmortem. “Can you determine the cause of death?”
She gently set the skull down and lifted one of the victim’s ribs. “There are distinct markings here.” She ran her finger along an angled indention. “It was caused by a large knife. If you look carefully you’ll see the edges are slightly serrated. Maybe it was a hunting knife. If you found the knife I’m confident I could match it.”
“How long has she been dead?” Adler asked.
“I’d say a couple of years longer than Miss Mason.”
“And Miss Mason was also stabbed?” Quinn asked.
“Yes. There are knife marks on at least two of her left ribs. If you look closely at the marks, you’ll notice the blade is serrated and matches the other rib we just examined.”
Quinn shook her head with contempt. “Two women murdered within a couple of years. Hayward goes to priso
n on drug and burglary charges, and within four weeks of being out, he knifes a woman to death.”
“The knife recovered from the convenience store murder was a hunting knife,” Adler said. “That victim was stabbed in the ribs.”
“You just took the words right out of my mouth,” Dr. McGowan said. “I pulled the complete set of records from that autopsy. The knife that killed that victim was also serrated.”
“Hayward said he went up to the barn after he was released from prison,” Adler said. “He finds the murder weapon he stashed fourteen years ago, thinks enough time has gone by, and the stupid shit pockets it.”
“He saved the knife as some kind of trophy?”
“That’s my guess,” Adler said.
“Do you really think Hayward would be so stupid to take us to Gina’s body knowing Jane Doe is one hundred yards away?” Quinn asked.
“I think he’s that arrogant and also that desperate. Gina was his one shot to save himself.”
“So he assumes our attention would be exclusively on unearthing Gina’s body and bets we won’t look anywhere else,” Quinn said incredulously.
“Have the GPR technicians found any other bodies near these two?” Dr. McGowan asked.
“No. Not yet,” Adler said.
“You think Blackstone knew about the second body?” Quinn asked.
“I don’t know,” Adler said.
Quinn’s grin was sly. “The immunity deal with Hayward covers the Gina Mason and convenience store murders only, correct?”
He smiled. “Correct. It does not cover Jane Doe.”
“So if we can tie Hayward to Jane Doe’s murder, we can charge him with murder.”
“That’s the goal.”
They spent several more minutes discussing the cases before Adler could step away and check his voicemail. He played back Kaitlin’s message.
He didn’t like the idea of her chasing Blackstone. If Blackstone had been covering for Hayward all these years, he had a lot to lose. And that made him very dangerous.
Adler dialed Logan’s number. He answered on the second ring, his voice thick and heavy with sleep.
“Did I wake you up, Logan?”
“Up until four a.m.”