by Debra Webb
“This part of the investigation can be tedious, but it’s necessary if we hope to succeed.”
She considered his statement for a moment before relenting and allowing him into her room. That one instant of hesitation, like so many others he had noticed since meeting her, was the part of this mystery that puzzled him the most.
If she didn’t want the truth, why come to the Colby Agency looking for it?
He understood how difficult this was for her, but murder was never easy.
As she sat down on the edge of the bed, he settled into the chair at the nearby desk. He placed his pad on the desktop and clicked his pen into writing position. “Start at the beginning.”
She licked those plump lips and took a deep breath. “It was our birthday party.” She stared at the beige carpet as she spoke. “The party was okay. Mom insisted on having it in spite of what had happened. Not so many kids came, but there was lots of laughing and presents and two cakes. One for each of us.”
Her silence dragged on until he prodded, “After the party, what happened?”
“We had a late dinner with our family and went to bed.”
“But your sister wasn’t ready to sleep.” Dana had consistently maintained that it was her sister’s idea to leave the house that night.
She nodded. “It was really late but not late enough to deter Donna. She was always the outgoing one. I was the quiet bookworm.” Dana clasped her hands in her lap. “She loved walking in the woods. It was a full moon. She said we’d go to the stream and look at the stars. We did that a lot in the summer.”
“But this was October. Had to be pretty chilly.”
She nodded. “We bundled up, grabbed a blanket and sneaked out of the house.”
“Was this the first time you’d left the house at night without telling your parents?”
A quick shake of her head. “We’d done it a couple times before. We’d meet Joanna and Sherry at the stream. Sometimes Lorie would come, but not that last time.”
There was a name he hadn’t heard. “Who’s Lorie?” This was exactly the reason for going over and over the details. Something new eventually surfaced.
“Lorie Hamilton. She was a friend of my sister’s. Most of our friends were really my sister’s friends. I guess I was a little too boring for them. Too shy. Too much of an introvert.”
Spence could see the remembered pain in her eyes.
“Lorie and my sister didn’t hang out together often. Lorie was fourteen and had friends her own age.”
Spence hadn’t seen an interview report on a Lorie Hamilton in the case file. “Did you mention to the police that Lorie occasionally came to the stream with you?”
A frown furrowed its way across Dana’s brow as she bit her lip. “I’m not sure. She wasn’t there that night so I probably didn’t.”
“Your parents never suspected the two of you left the house without their knowledge?” That part nagged at him. But then, he’d grown up in the city. Maybe that was the difference.
“My parents slept upstairs. We used the downstairs den for a bedroom because of my sleepwalking.”
Something else he hadn’t heard about. “You walked in your sleep?”
“When I was younger. They were afraid I’d fall down the stairs or something. They kept the deadbolts secured…or they did until I’d stopped doing it. By then Donna and I didn’t want to move back upstairs. We’d gotten used to the room.”
Spence imagined that her parents had beaten themselves up over and over again for that decision.
“What did the two of you do after you left the house?” He guided the conversation back to the details of that tragic night.
“We danced around in the yard. Let a couple of leftover balloons go in honor of Sherry and Joanna, then headed into the woods.” Other than lacing and unlacing her fingers repeatedly, she sat perfectly still. “When we got to the stream we spread the blanket and laid down to stare up at the stars.”
“Donna didn’t fall? Hit her head?”
Dana shook her head. “Nothing like that happened.” Inwardly she cringed at the thought that her sister had been hit in the head with a rock…or fallen against one. Why couldn’t she remember any part of that?
“What did you talk about?”
She stared at the wall across the room, her gaze distant. “How much she missed her friends. How we couldn’t wait until we were old enough to get our driver’s licenses. Nothing in particular.”
More of that prolonged silence.
“Who fell asleep first?”
Dana thought about the question, then said, “I guess I must have. I could still hear her talking as I drifted off.”
“What happened when you woke up?”
Her gaze collided with his. “I don’t remember waking up. I told you that.”
Her defensive tone also told him she didn’t want her claim disputed and definitely didn’t want to try remembering.
Move on for now. “Okay. So tell me more about Lorie Hamilton.”
Dana blinked. Her frustrated expression relaxed fractionally. “She was a cheerleader. Very popular. Everyone loved her. She and Donna got to know each other when my sister tried out for the cheerleading squad for the upcoming school year.”
“They were cheerleaders together?”
Dana shook her head. “Donna didn’t make the squad, just third alternate. But Lorie still hung out with her sometimes. Maybe…” Dana chewed her lower lip.
“Maybe?”
“Maybe Lorie felt sorry for Donna because she was like the very last choice even as an alternate.”
“What makes you think Lorie felt sorry for Donna?”
“I guess because Lorie only hung out with her when she wasn’t with her other friends.” She met Spence’s gaze once more. “The other cheerleaders, I mean. They kind of stuck together.”
“Your sister didn’t blame Lorie or feel animosity toward her after that?” It was a shot in the dark, but one the investigators apparently hadn’t considered during the initial investigation.
“Of course not.” More of that defensiveness. “My sister didn’t have any enemies.” Dana shook her head firmly. “None of them did.”
“But someone murdered them,” he said bluntly. “Obviously there was someone who harbored ill will toward all three.” Denial was the typical presiding theme in cases like this. No one wanted to believe an enemy, much less one capable of murder, resided among them. Particularly not in a small, quiet town where nothing truly bad ever happened.
The statement had the desired effect. “My sister never hurt anyone in her life. Everyone loved her. She didn’t have any enemies any more than Joanna or Sherry did.” She pushed up from the edge of the bed. “I should…get ready, I suppose. Can we talk about this more in the morning?”
For a lady who wanted the truth so badly she sure didn’t seem to want to go down the path that would lead her to that destination.
Spence stood. “No problem.” He moved to the door, but hesitated before leaving. “We should probably get going in about ten minutes.”
She said nothing as he exited her room. Somehow he had to get the point across to her that someone hated her sister enough to end her life in a very personal manner. Someone Dana likely knew. Until she was ready to face that harsh reality the memories that might very well lead to a killer would remain locked just out of reach.
Spence had gone easy on her until now. Tomorrow he would push a little harder. He’d worked with children who suppressed unpleasant memories. Prodding them gently but consistently was essential.
He was surprised therapy hadn’t unearthed a flicker of recall. Then again, Dana could be working overtime to keep the memories at bay. Nothing he hadn’t seen before.
Whether she fully realized it or not, she was the key element to finding the truth. Chances were, she knew the killer.
His job was fairly straightforward: guide and prod her to that end.
All he needed was her cooperation.
DANA
SECURED the safety latch on the door. Her hands shook. She fisted her fingers and fought to regain control of her emotions.
How long would it be before Mr. Spencer recognized her deception? How was she going to survive going to dinner with the Bellomys? Right across the street from her childhood home?
She wanted to find the truth. Out there. She gazed at the door, her mind conjuring the images of her hometown. She wanted to learn that some stranger just passing through had committed these atrocities. There had to be a way to accomplish that goal without giving away her deepest fear. Her dreams were just that…dreams. They didn’t mean anything. Not really.
But what if they were real? What if she was…
No. She refused to even think it. She’d loved her sister. Joanna and Sherry had been her sister’s best friends. Had always been nice to Dana and let her tag along. She couldn’t have hurt them.
Was that the reason she couldn’t remember? Her therapist had said what happened that night was obviously too traumatic for her mind to allow her to remember. Was that yet another indication of her guilt?
Dana fished into her purse and checked her cell phone. Her mother had tried to call three times. Apparently Mr. Bellomy or Chief Gerard had informed her that Dana was here.
Not good.
She tucked the phone back into her purse. How long would it be before her mother showed up here to try and urge her to go back to Chicago?
The phone on the bedside table rang and Dana jumped. She dragged in a deep breath and counted to ten, releasing that breath slowly. She had to pull herself together. Mrs. Bellomy had probably already spread news all over town that she was here. It was an easy guess where Dana would be found since the Goodnite Motel was the only motel in town. Another sharp ring shattered the air.
If her mother was calling, Dana would just have to deal with it. She couldn’t have her showing up and attempting to persuade Mr. Spencer to rethink helping her. If that happened, Dana had to make her understand that she wasn’t walking away until she knew the truth.
The whole truth.
Steadying herself, she crossed the room and picked up the receiver. “Hello.”
For several seconds dead air reverberated in her ears, mimicking the rush of blood already roaring there.
“Hello.”
“You should go back to Chicago, Dana. The past should stay in the past. Otherwise…you’ll be sorry. We’ll…all be sorry.”
The click that followed confirmed that the caller had severed the connection. Dana stared at the receiver in her hand. Her heart thumped hard against her sternum as the words seeped through the denial swaddling her brain.
Female. Vaguely familiar somehow. But…none of the people who had once known her would have made that kind of veiled threat. Would they?
Unless…it was someone who knew what happened that night.
Someone who knew that to find the killer, Dana only need look in the mirror.
Chapter Five
Dana managed to get through dinner without falling apart. She’d noticed Spence watching her on too many occasions to count. Everyone had been watching her. Mr. Bellomy. Mrs. Bellomy. She’d picked at her food, that was true. But how could she eat? That phone call. The voice. The warning.
Being here…in the house…right across the street was very nearly more than she could bear.
She’d scoured her memory banks in an attempt to put a name and face with the voice of the caller. No luck. She was sure Spence and the Bellomys had also observed her distraction. The only thing good about being distracted was that she had been able to block a good deal of the conversation regarding her childhood.
Picture-perfect. Her family, the town, all of it was nothing short of Norman Rockwell ideal. The words, the images they invoked, were like knives sliding deep into her flesh. She could scarcely abide hearing.
This was crazy.
She followed the others onto the front porch for coffee. Dana had come here to learn the truth and already she was ready to cut and run like the coward she was. That was the real truth here. She was a coward.
“It was a more carefree time back then,” Mrs. Bellomy said as she settled into a wooden rocker. “Never locked our doors. We all sat on our front porches in the evenings. Even in October most evenings were still warm enough to do that.”
A shiver danced along Dana’s spine, as if to deny that assertion. Images from the past flickered in front of her eyes…urging her to look back. To see. Dancing through the woods. The damp grass…
She blinked, forced the nerve-jarring images back into that locked compartment that never really opened for her except in her dreams. It was as if her mind had segregated her memories, allowing only a haunting teaser of those she wasn’t permitted to see. And only in her sleep.
“Without any children of our own—” Mr. Bellomy picked up where his wife left off “—we enjoyed watching the girls play in the yard across the street. They were like our surrogate kids.”
Dana’s attention settled on the dark house beyond the expanse of pavement making up Waverly Street. The home where she’d once lived still looked mostly the same. The paint was faded. The lawn was freshly mown, probably for the last time this season. But it was the windows, black holes against the weathered siding, that taunted her.
Empty.
Abandoned.
Like her life.
Hard as she’d tried to pick up the pieces after surviving college, she just hadn’t been able to feel anything. She couldn’t allow even one personal connection. She’d muddled through somehow. Existing. Until the nightmares started in force. She’d had the occasional one all along but not this night-after-night punishment. They stole what little focus she managed. Made her feel out of place in her own skin.
How was she supposed to go on without doing something? Without knowing?
But the thought of looking back, finding the truth, terrified her. Yet, she knew with all her heart that she had to do exactly that.
“Dana?”
She snapped from her disturbing musings. “Excuse me?” She’d completely missed whatever had been said. “I’m sorry I was…just thinking.”
That everyone seated around the porch stared at her with something akin to concern sent heat flooding her cheeks.
“I was saying that we should probably be going,” Spence repeated. “We’ve taken up enough of our generous hosts’ time, and we have a full day ahead of us tomorrow.”
Dana nodded jerkily. When Spence stood, she followed suit.
“Thank you for a lovely meal,” he said.
“We’d love to have you come by again,” Mrs. Bellomy said to Dana. “We’ve missed you. It feels like old times having you here.”
Dana managed a smile. Her lips quivered.
“Let me know if there’s anything at all I can do to help,” Mr. Bellomy said as Dana and Spence descended the steps and walked toward his car.
Dana scarcely held it together until they were in the vehicle and headed down the dark street. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the headrest. Her heart wouldn’t slow its frantic pace. Her skin felt hot and flushed. How had she for even a second thought she could do this? She had lost her mind. There was no question about that.
“Tomorrow we’ll walk through the house and the woods where you and your sister were found.”
Dana’s eyes flew open. The heart that had pounded furiously all evening seemed to stutter to a stop. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She was here. She had to be ready.
“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” Spence echoed her thought as he braked for the turn into the motel parking lot. “To help you remember.”
She couldn’t look at him. He was right. That was what she’d gone to the Colby Agency looking for. Someone to help her find the truth.
How did she explain…without giving away her worst fear?
“It’s just…harder than I thought it would be.” Why was she fighting t
his? She needed the truth. Her life would never be her own until she knew what really happened all those years ago. She was twenty-nine years old. If she wasn’t strong enough to do it now, she never would be. Feeling sorry for herself and being a coward wouldn’t get the job done.
When he’d put the car in Park and turned to her, he said, “But that’s why I’m here. My job is to make sure we find the facts and that you’re fully protected every step of the way.”
She couldn’t tell him that the one thing she was afraid of most was…herself.
Outside her motel room, he hesitated. “So we’re in agreement. Tomorrow we’ll visit the house and the woods where you and Donna went that night.”
“Agreed.” Her throat felt dry. She could do it. She had to do it.
“Then we’ll track down Lorie Hamilton and ask the questions that should have been asked of her sixteen years ago.”
With a vague nod, Dana unlocked her door and stepped into her room. Her eyes squeezed shut; she closed the door behind her and leaned against it. His suggestions were good ones—made perfect sense.
Then why wasn’t she relieved?
Dana forced her eyes open and exhaled a shaky breath. She should just tell him about her nightmares and be done with it. Leaving that aspect, real or imagined, out was undermining what she’d hired him to do.
But would he look for the truth—really look—if he thought she was the…killer?
Her gaze settled on the bed. She blinked, looked again. Terror lit in her veins.
One of the pillows had been pulled from beneath the bedspread and now sat in the middle of the bed. The ends had been scrunched as if someone had held it in both hands and used it to…
…hold over someone’s face.
SPENCE UNBUTTONED his shirt and dragged it off his shoulders. His client clearly couldn’t make up her mind about what she wanted. For a woman who implied she wanted answers, she sure as hell wasn’t acting that way.
What was she afraid of?