by Beth Yarnall
But first I need to find out who the officer was who answered Cassandra’s call. He or she might know something about the man who I now suspect not only harassed Cassandra, but also may have killed her.
I fill Leo in on my chat with Dylan over burritos at Taco Mia—which is just dinner, not a date.
Leo wipes his mouth. “This should’ve come up during the investigation and trial. You don’t have anything in your files about a police report?”
“No. Nothing. Can you check with your friend at the DA’s office and see if they ever came across one?”
“Sure.” He points to the half burrito on my plate. “You going to finish that?”
“You can have it.”
He scoops it up and takes a big bite. The movements of his mouth mesmerize me as he chews. Suddenly I’m thinking of other things that mouth is skilled at. I shift in my seat and redirect my gaze, which snags on a familiar face ordering at the counter.
“Isn’t that one of the cops who showed up when my apartment got broken into? I wonder if they got any leads that would help find out who broke in.”
Leo glances around until he spots the officer. “Looks like him. Must be his beat. That reminds me.” He turns back toward me. “I was followed to Zelda’s house. The guy didn’t even try to hide it. Black Mustang with heavily tinted windows and no license plates. He took off before I could get any kind of description.”
“We must be onto something to stir up all of this attention. Do you think he knew you were going to see Zelda?”
“No idea, but he wanted me to see him. He wanted me to know he was onto us.” He leans across the table. “I think he’s worried, and if he’s worried it’s because we’re onto something. We just have to figure out what.”
A shudder runs through me. I never thought for a moment my investigating would bring the killer out of the shadows. He was always this faceless, nameless unknown, the answer to all of my prayers, and the key to get Beau out of prison. We must be close to a break if he’s willing to take these kinds of risks.
Leo puts a hand on my arm. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to figure this out.”
I’m not as certain as he is. I know what that bastard did to Cassandra. I see it when I close my eyes at night. I nod anyway.
“There’s something else I need to tell you,” he says. “Zelda’s gone. I have a lead on where she might be living, but she was hard to find when she had a home. Now that she’s in the wind it’s going to be even harder to locate her. But don’t worry. I found her once. I can find her again.”
“I feel like we’re further away from solving this than ever. The more we discover, the more there is to be discovered.”
“My dad’s meeting with Damien LeFeaux tomorrow. With any luck we’ll catch a break there.”
“I hope so.” I can’t remember a time in the past five and a half years when I ever felt more overwhelmed with the task of freeing my brother. “I think I’ll go see Beau tomorrow. It’s been too long since I’ve seen him.”
“That’s a good idea. I’ll go with you.”
“About our earlier conversation…”
“Yeah?”
“I have a proposition for you.”
He puts his folded arms on the table and leans in. “What kind of proposition?”
“I was thinking since you’ll be going back to L.A. in the fall that we should keep things casual between us. Nothing to keep us from going our separate ways when you leave.”
“No strings.”
“Right. We seem to have a lot of chemistry between us. I was thinking we could keep things going the way they are. You know, just fun.”
“Cora. Are you saying you want to have uncommitted sex with me?”
“Yes.”
“So in this non-commitment would we get to go out with other people?”
“Well, no. While we’re, you know, we’re not doing it with anyone else.”
“Not even with that Dylan guy who was all over you?”
“He was not all over me. Besides, Dylan’s like a brother to me and I’m nothing more than Beau’s little sister to him.”
“Let me get this straight. You want to have committed non-commitment sex with me until the end of the summer.”
“Right.”
“I can’t do it.”
Is he joking? “Why not? All you have is casual sex. This wouldn’t be any different.”
“Except that it is. And thanks for calling me a man-whore.”
“I’m not judging. In fact, I like that you’ve had a lot of experience, since I don’t really have any.”
“So you want to use me for sex?”
“Well…yeah.”
He stares at me for a moment. I wish I knew what was going on inside his head. I didn’t think he’d get insulted over me pointing out the fact that he’s slept with a lot of women. He always seemed pretty open about that.
“Okay, I’ll do it. On one condition—you can’t fall in love with me.”
“What? Why would I fall in love with you?”
He shrugs. “It happens.” His phone rings. He glances at the display, his brows bunching together, and hits the accept key. “Hello?” His body language changes, going from curiously annoyed with me to alert. “I’m so glad you called, Zelda.”
I jerk upright in my seat. Finally something is going our way.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he tells her. “Yeah, I can meet you anywhere you want. Twenty minutes? See you there.” He ends the call. “She wants to meet at that new coffee shop on Baker.”
We jump in the car and hightail it across town. Leo parks with less than a minute to spare. Through the window I can see that Zelda isn’t here yet. We climb out of the car and go inside.
“Find a corner booth that’s out of the way so she doesn’t see you,” Leo says. “There.” He points to the far end of the café. “That one over there.”
I slide in and try to make myself as inconspicuous as possible. Leo, on the other hand, chooses a spot where he can see and be seen. We don’t have to wait long. Zelda comes in and looks around. Leo walks up to her. They exchange some words and then take a seat at a table by the window.
Zelda looks different than she did the last time I saw her. I might not have recognized her except for the small red birthmark on her cheek. She looks tired and sad until Leo works his charm on her, then she becomes all smiles and coy looks. I sure as hell hope he’s able to get something out of her about her and Cassandra’s old neighbor Mrs. Wheeler.
The waitress arrives at my table. I order a pot of Earl Grey and take out my cellphone to look busy. The conversation at Leo’s table gets chummy. Twirling a strand of hair around one finger, Zelda narrows the distance between them across the table. Leo does the same. They look like a couple having an intimate discussion. They’re more evenly matched than Leo and me. I can almost see them together. I slump in my seat and try not to let that thought get too far.
What Leo said back at the taco place about me not falling in love with him comes back to me. He shrugged it off like it happens to him all the time. I can see it. He’s nice to look at, funny, sexy as hell, dependable, and easy to be around. I imagine a lot of girls have fallen for him. But he’s also stubborn, immature, and arrogant. Those should be negative traits, and yet mixed in with the rest they work. At least for me. And for Zelda too, by the looks of it.
I’m not jealous. I’m not. Leo’s free with his affection and charm. His personality more than his looks make it hard to resist him. When he turns those chocolate eyes on you you’re the only girl in the room. It’s just the way he is. I wouldn’t change him for anything, and yet…uhh. I want him all to myself. It’s going to be difficult to say goodbye to him at the end of the summer.
Chapter 24
Leo
I’m trying really hard to focus on getting Zelda to tell me about Mrs. Wheeler, but Cora is sitting across the room in my line of sight right over Zelda’s left shoulder. I can’t believe Cora sexually propos
itioned me. And I can’t believe I almost didn’t take her up on it. She’s more than a quick summer fling to me. What am I to her other than a means to gain some sexual experience? If I give her what she wants, then what? Where does that leave me?
Because if I sleep with her I know it’s going to mean more to me than it means to her. And if I don’t she’ll eventually meet someone else and they might not make her first time everything it should be. She should be loved and cherished and cared for and have orgasms that shock her. She should be with someone who will take care of her and be there for the hard stuff. Not someone who will leave her.
But what choice do I have? I want her past August. She apparently wants me only for the interim. There is no place for me in her life unless she makes a place. Or I somehow make it hard for her to live without me. If I make the sex so good she won’t be able to live without it or me. Three hours away isn’t that far. People make cross-country relationships work all the time.
I smile at Zelda, pushing back all those thoughts. There’s another way I can make myself necessary to Cora—help her free her brother.
I leaf through the notebook I brought with me, looking for the entry about Mrs. Wheeler. It holds all the notes I’ve taken on Beau’s case and supports my story of a student studying a local case. Zelda’s curious about it. I catch her trying to read it upside down.
I start with easy get-to-know-you questions. I’m good at getting women to feel at ease with me. Before I know it Zelda’s opening up about a lot of other things.
“I didn’t believe Beau could’ve done it at first. I mean, what was done to her was so brutal.” Looking away, she sips at her coffee. “But the evidence was overwhelming.”
“The case file is one of the thickest I’ve ever seen. I’ve been going over some of the witness testimony, including yours. I’m sorry you had to go through that and I’m sorry you lost your friend.”
“Thanks. I still can’t believe she’s gone.”
“How long did you know each other?”
“A couple of years. When the apartment across the hall from me came available I called Cassandra right away. I knew she wanted to move close to campus. She wanted to be on her own, have the whole college experience, even if she was only moving across town. Her parents were very strict. I think she also wanted to get out from under that.”
“She liked having her own place?”
“Oh, yes. She even got a cat.” Her brow creases. “I wonder what ever happened to him. Maybe her parents took him in.”
“Going over the case, I noticed your downstairs neighbor”—I flip through my notebook for show—“Edith Wheeler didn’t testify in the trial. I tried to track her down, but I couldn’t find anything on her.”
“Oh, gosh. She probably died. I mean, she was old back then.”
“I couldn’t find any record of her death. I’m trying to put together as complete a profile as possible. You wouldn’t know how I could maybe find her, would you?”
She bunches up her forehead. “She had a cousin who used to visit.”
“She passed a few years ago.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. Did you try her husband’s niece? She used to work at an old-folks’ home up north somewhere. Mrs. Wheeler was always joking about how if she ever went up there they’d probably roll her into a snowdrift and forget about her until spring. She liked the beach. I couldn’t see her moving to a landlocked state, but you never know.”
“Do you remember the niece’s name?”
“Gosh.” She rubs her forehead. “I want to say it’s something like Roberta or Robin. She had a different last name too. I think it started with a D, but I’m not sure. It’s been so long since I’ve seen Mrs. Wheeler. I moved out right after Cassandra’s death. I couldn’t stand to live there anymore.”
She’s given us the first real lead on Mrs. Wheeler. I want to split and go check it out, but that would totally blow my cover. Instead, I ask her more questions about the case. Who knows? Something else might pop. She’s the closest person to Cassandra that we’ve been able to talk to and she was a key witness in the trial.
“Did you know Damien LeFeaux?” I ask. “He claimed to have seen Beau leave Cassandra’s apartment right after the murder.”
“No. I saw him for the first time at the trial. There was something not quite right about his testimony though.”
“In what way?”
“He said that he walked down Fletcher toward Seventh and turned right on Wardlow and that’s when he saw Beau. Fletcher dead-ends into Wardlow. He couldn’t have walked down Fletcher from that direction. Unless he meant that he walked away from Seventh Street and turned left onto Wardlow.
“It was obvious that he was a drug user. I imagine he just got confused. I don’t know. No one mentioned anything about it during the trial—not even Beau’s defense attorney.”
“You’re sure that’s what he said?”
“Yeah. I lived there for over a year. They didn’t bring Fletcher through until about two years ago, so unless he time traveled…”
“That’s a big discrepancy.”
“That’s what I thought. But then they had Beau’s DNA and him admitting to the police that he was there that night, so I didn’t say anything. I figured it didn’t matter if Beau really did it.”
“You really think he killed Cassandra?”
She grows thoughtful. I expected her to answer right away. Her hesitation makes me think the trial wasn’t the slam-dunk everyone thought it was.
“I didn’t at first. Or at least I didn’t want to. I knew how much they loved each other, but then they broke up and everything was so strange after that. When they arrested him I just couldn’t see it. I mean, what happened to her was so…brutal.” Her eyes fill with tears. “I knew Beau. He had to have had a major psychotic break to do something like that. It was just so sick.” I hand her a napkin and she dabs at her eyes. “She suffered so much.”
She starts bawling then. I glance across the room at Cora. She motions for me to reach out and take Zelda’s hand. I do, muttering apologies and words of sympathy. After a few moments Zelda gets herself together enough to speak again.
“No,” she answers. “I don’t think Beau could’ve done that to Cassandra.”
We talk a little more, but I don’t learn anything else new from her. That info about LeFeaux’s testimony could be the break we need with my dad going out to visit him tomorrow. Any leverage we can get we can use to discredit him. I’ve got to double-check the trial transcript against a map of the neighborhood just to be sure. I don’t want Dad going in there with incorrect information.
I walk Zelda to her car. “Thanks for meeting me. You’ve been a big help.”
“It was nice to talk about it with someone. Most people just want to sensationalize the gruesome parts. Cassandra was my friend. She deserves more than to be reduced to a notorious headline.”
Nodding, I take out my wallet and hand her two twenties. “I know you’re going through a tough time.”
She hesitates, then accepts it. “Thanks. Normally, I wouldn’t take the help, but…”
“We all need help every now and then. You helped me.”
As I watch her drive away, Cora joins me. “I saw that. That was very nice of you.”
I shrug.
“Did she tell you anything useful?”
“And then some. We need to go back to the office. I want to check on something Zelda said about the trial and I think I might know where Mrs. Wheeler is.”
“What did she tell you?”
“I’ll fill you in on the way.”
We climb into the car and take off. There’s a buzz running through me, making my skin itch. This is it. I can feel it. This is the lead we’ve been looking for. I can tell Cora feels it too. She’s animated in a way I’ve never seen her, gesturing with her hands and moving nonstop. I’m glad I got to be the one to give her this moment.
We finally arrive at the office. It’s dark, darker than normal. I
look up at the sky, wondering if the clouds are covering the moon, and realize that the lights in the parking lot are all out.
Cora must’ve noticed that something was off too, because she doesn’t move to the stairs right away like she usually would. She stands by the open car door, her head cocked to one side like she’s listening. I’m listening too and scanning the building and the empty parking lot. Nothing moves. Our gazes catch across the top of the car. I put my finger to my lips. She nods and reaches into the car, shutting the interior light off. I wish I’d thought to do that.
I pull the gun Dad gave me from between the seats and motion for Cora to stay where she is. Creeping toward the stairs, I listen hard for any odd noises. A hand grips the waistband of my jeans and I nearly jump. Damn Cora didn’t stay put. I glare at her. She glares back. I should’ve known she wouldn’t listen. I motion for her to stay quiet. She rolls her eyes at me like “no duh.” Damn stubborn woman.
We edge up the stairs, careful not to step on the one board we know always creaks. I stay low as we reach the top. Cora does the same. The walkway is empty. And dark. The lights are off up here too. Unless there’s a power outage in the area, something’s definitely wrong.
Cora tugs on my waistband and whispers, “Should we call the police?”
“And tell them what?” I whisper back. “The power’s out?”
“You think it’s just an outage?”
No. “Probably.”
We creep along the walkway, past the front window of the agency. The blinds are drawn over the blackened window. The only sound comes from the occasional car passing by. It’s too late for anyone to still be working in any of the other offices. Most likely we’re on our own here. I’m starting to think Cora’s idea about calling the cops might be a good one. We reach the door to the agency and pause. It doesn’t look disturbed in any way, and yet…I push on it and it swings open. Just like at Cora’s house.