After a short walk, I said, “I can’t keep this up. Can’t he point us in the direction of the body?”
“We’re close, but she’s right—I can’t make it,” Jesse said.
Giovanni thought it over and looked at his men who were all out of breath and sweaty like they’d just competed in a triathlon.
“I’ll stay with Jesse,” Giovanni said. “You three go with Sloane.”
“How much farther is this thing?” Lucio said.
Giovanni stepped toward him. “Is there a problem?”
Lucio replied, “No boss—no problem.”
I looked around. Trees and bushes dotted the landscape for miles. “Tell me what I’m looking for—a tree, a rock or marker of some kind…”
“A tree,” Jesse said. He flattened his hand, turned it to the side, and used it to point us in the right direction. “Follow this straight up. You’re gonna walk for about five minutes. You’ll come to a wicked-looking tree with blackened branches like it’s been burned in a fire. There’s an X carved into the base. You’ll wanna dig in front of that X.”
It seemed absurd. If I buried someone outdoors, I’d pick the plainest tree I could find so it wouldn’t draw attention. Not the one that stood out like a rabbit at a chicken fight.
“How far down is she—five feet or so?” I said.
Jesse shrugged. “More like three.”
“Three?”
“We knew nobody was ever gonna find her,” Jesse said. “It was late and we were tired.”
I gathered the men and we set off. The wind whistled through the trees whipping dust and fragments of weeds into the air. It was strange—eerie. Almost like Ivy knew I was coming to set her free. Several minutes went by and I caught a glimpse of blackened wood. “I think I see it!” I said.
The tree was twisty and viney and looked like it grew right out of a Tim Burton movie. It had to be the one. The men gathered around while I searched the base for an X. It didn’t take long for me to find it.
“Right here,” I said. “Dig in front of this.”
The excavation began, and since I had the power of three, it wasn’t long before Lucio shouted, “I feel something!”
The men scraped at the dirt with their hands. I watched, my body stiff, unable to move. I couldn’t believe we were actually excavating a hidden grave. Lucio punched his hand down into the soft dirt and then twisted it, trying to grab hold of what he felt before. Seconds later he shouted, “Got it!”
He retracted his hand until it was all the way out and we all gathered around. Everyone had a look of confusion in their eyes. I turned to Lucio. “Keep digging.”
CHAPTER 38
“Well,” Jesse said. “What did you find?”
I grabbed an object from my pocket and hurled the object in Jesse’s direction. It landed at his feet.
He reached down and picked it up with a quizzical look on his face. “You shouldn’t have. What’s this supposed to be anyway?”
“A message.”
“In a bottle?”
He turned it around in his hand.
“Look inside,” I said.
Jesse stuck his pinky finger in and pulled out a dirty piece of paper.
“Read it,” I said. “Out loud.”
JESSE
I SAVED THE BEST FOR LAST
“What is this—some kind of joke?” Jesse said. “Where’d you get this thing?”
“That thing was found in the hole where you said Ivy was buried.”
“So you found her—her body, I mean?”
I shook my head. “She wasn’t there.”
He shuddered, terrified. “No…no…no…she has to be. Maybe you weren’t in the right spot.”
I whipped out my phone and showed him the picture I’d taken of the carving on the tree. “Is this it?”
He nodded.
“The guys dug even deeper than you said—still nothing.”
Jesse flung the bottle to the ground. “How’s that possible?”
“Obviously she wasn’t dead when you guys put her in there.”
“But we covered her up—a person couldn’t survive that, could they? Even if she wasn’t dead, she would have suffocated.”
Giovanni gave Jesse a look like he was a total amateur.
“How long did you wait there after she was buried?” I said.
“I dunno. Half hour, maybe less. We wanted to get the hell out of there. It gave us the creeps.”
“What’s the significance of the BUD LIGHT?” I said.
He shrugged.
“Oh, come on, Jesse. There has to be one. The bottle at your house, the one here. You were drinking it the night you buried Ivy, weren’t you?”
Jesse frowned.
One of the men looked at Giovanni. “What you want us to do with him, Boss?”
Jesse’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “You’ve got no proof I did anything to Ivy. Let me go!”
I smiled and retrieved a digital recorder from my pocket. I wiggled it back and forth in front of Jesse. He frowned, well aware of the implications.
“Insurance,” I said. “Attempted murder. And you’re a cop, so you know how it goes.”
Giovanni instructed his men to squeeze Jesse in between them in the back seat until I decided what I wanted to do next.
“Well,” I said looking at Giovanni, “I’d say we have our motive. Revenge.”
CHAPTER 39
“My baby!” Trista screamed into the phone. “She’s missing!”
“For how long?” I said.
“I don’t know!”
“Have you called the police?”
“They’re on their way—so’s Rosalind.”
I looked at Giovanni and he turned the car around. I grabbed a piece of paper from the glove box, scribbled Trista’s address on it and handed it to him.
“Trista—I need you to take a deep breath and tell me everything that’s happened since Alexa left you. Don’t leave anything out.”
“I don’t know if I can, Sloane. I feel like I’m going to pass out—I keep blacking out and grabbing the counter for support.”
In that moment, I was glad her twins were at school. They didn’t need to see their mom like this.
“If you want me to find her, you have to tell me whatever you can,” I said. “I know it’s hard. Everything will make sense when I get there, but right now, I need you to keep talking to me.”
“Alexa left here Sunday night. She wanted to get back because she had a shift at the hospital the next morning. But she never showed up for it.”
“What time did she leave?” I said.
“Around six pm last night.”
“Is that the last time you heard from her?”
“Ummm, no. She called me to say she forgot to take the money I left on her nightstand and asked me to mail it out today.”
“What time was that?”
“Hold on a sec…”
She pressed a few buttons on her phone. “It was at 6:52 pm.”
“Okay, so that explains why she wouldn’t have turned around—she’d been driving for almost an hour. Is that all she said?”
“We talked for a minute and she said she was stopping at a gas station.”
“Do you know which one?”
“Andy’s. She liked to go there because of his custom-made sandwiches.”
“What was she driving?” I said.
“2011 Jeep Liberty—Rosalind bought it for her.”
“Color?”
“Red.”
I relayed the information to Giovanni and he made a call.
“Trista, how did you find out Alexa was missing?”
“She didn’t answer any of my phone calls last night. I assumed she was sleeping. We usually talk on her way to work, but when she didn’t call to check in, I called the hospital and they said she hadn’t shown up. So then I called Alexa’s roommate. She said Alexa never came home last night. She assumed she stayed here another day and....”
The line we
nt quiet, but the phone was still engaged. I heard a thud like a hundred pound bag of sugar hitting the floor.
“Trista! Are you still there?”
I turned to Giovanni. “Hurry!”
CHAPTER 40
Andy, of Andy’s Gas and Grub, confirmed a red Jeep Liberty had been parked in the corner stall for about eighteen hours. He’d checked his security cameras and saw Alexa exit the car, but she never entered the store. At one point she looked over and walked to the other side of the building like she was meeting someone, but it was beyond the parameters of his security cameras. He’d called police to report the abandoned car, but so far no one had arrived to check it out.
We arrived at Trista’s and I sprung from my seat before the car screeched to a stop. A police car pulled up behind us and an officer shouted, “Wait!” But I had no intention of following his orders. Inside the house, Trista was face down on the kitchen floor, drool dripping from the side of her mouth. I stuck two fingers on her neck—she had a pulse.
Her eyes flashed open and she grabbed me. “What happened?”
One of the police officers grabbed me from behind and attempted to pull me back, but I didn’t budge.
“Remove your hands from her,” Giovanni said.
The officer spun around and glared at him. “What’d you just say?”
“He said remove…your…hands…from…the…lady. Now,” Lucio said.
The officer, who had the thickest mustache I’d ever seen, opened up his mouth to speak but Trista yelled, “Stop! Sloane’s here to help find my daughter, and if you want to waste time harassing her, you can leave.”
A second officer entered the room. “You can’t kick us out of your house ma’am. This is a formal investigation. We have a warrant.”
“Show it to me,” Giovanni said.
The officers looked at each other and then at Trista like no one had ever called their bluff before. Officer Mustache said, “What can we do to help, ma’am?”
I grabbed Trista’s arm and helped her off the ground. There were too many cooks in the kitchen, so I moved her to the sofa while Giovanni got her a glass of water. Once Trista was settled she gave the cops the same information she offered me. I excused myself, leaving Giovanni to look after her best interests, and went into the bedroom where I placed a call to the hospital Alexa worked at.
“Guardian Children’s Hospital,” a female voice said.
“Hi,” I said. “My daughter never showed up for her shift today—Alexa Ward. Could I talk to her supervisor?”
“Hold, please.”
In a hushed voice, the woman on the other line spoke to herself as if she was searching some kind of list. Then she returned to the line.
“Her supervisor isn’t here right now.”
“When will she be back?” I said.
“Says here she’s taken a leave of absence.”
“For how long?”
The woman sighed into the phone. “I’m not her keeper—I don’t know these things.”
She went to click the phone down and I said, “Wait! Is there anyone else I could talk to?”
Another deep sigh and then, “Hold on.”
I started to say ‘thank you’ but was cut off when the instrumental version of “You Light Up My Life” streamed through the phone. I considered hanging up, figuring the woman who answered wasn’t trying to light up my life, she was trying to ruin it, until a male voice answered.
“This is Doctor Ashby.”
“I’m trying to get in touch with Alexa Ward’s supervisor,” I said.
“And you are?”
“Alexa’s mother.”
“Funny.”
“What?” I said.
“I’ve met Alexa’s mother. Her voice is higher pitched than yours. Should I hang up now?”
I sighed. “I’m a private investigator, who went to school with Alexa’s father, and I am in town trying to find clues about what happened to him, but now we have an additional problem: Alexa’s missing.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“The real Trista Ward is in the next room talking to the police,” I said. “I can put her on the line.”
“Shayna Robbins isn’t here right now.”
“Who?” I said.
“That’s who you’d want to speak with…she’s Alexa’s supervisor. I’m only in charge of Alexa and a couple other interns during Shayna’s absence.”
“How long has Shayna been off work?”
“Three weeks, and if you ask me, I hope she stays gone.”
“Why?”
“Ever since the new interns started, she hasn’t been herself. Especially with Alexa.”
“How was she different?” I said.
“Shayna followed Alexa around and tried to get together with her outside of work, and we don’t condone relationships between supervisors and staff.”
“Can I send you a photo?” I said.
“What for?”
“I’d like you to take a look at it and tell me if you recognize the woman in the photo. Don’t pay attention to the hair or the clothes—just the face.”
“I guess.”
“Great, I’m sending it over now. I’ll write my number on the fax.”
CHAPTER 41
When I returned to the living room, Officer Mustache was conferring with Officer No-Mustache in the corner. Their whispered banter was interrupted by Rosalind who flew through the door like The Wicked Witch of the West, except she’d forgotten her broom.
“You won’t find my granddaughter by standing around,” she spat.
Officer Mustache said, “We’re following up on some leads now, Mrs. Ward.”
“Such as?”
Officer Mustache thumbed in Giovanni’s direction. “He just informed us Alexa’s car was spotted about an hour from here.”
“I don’t care about the car—where’s my granddaughter!”
Both officers stood there unsure of what to say.
My cell phone vibrated in my pocket and I excused myself from the room. “Thanks for returning my call so quickly,” I said.
“I got your fax—and you’re right—this is a really old photo, but the face is remarkable. It’s like Shayna hasn’t aged one bit.”
“You’re sure the woman in the photo is Shayna Robbins?”
“One hundred percent. But I don’t understand. The fax you sent said the woman in the photo is named Ivy West and has been missing for two decades.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you more, but I have to go.”
I ended the call and found Trista. “Can I talk to you—alone?”
We entered her bedroom and I locked the door behind me.
“What’s going on—do you know something?” Trista said.
I hated this part. “Yes.”
Trista grabbed my shoulders and squeezed. “What is it? Tell me!”
“I know where Alexa is—well, not where she is, but who took her. But it won’t make sense to you until I tell you everything.”
She crossed her arms. “I’m listening.”
“This is going to be difficult for you to take—maybe even harder than what you’re already going through, but I need you to hear me out.”
“What could be worse than a dead husband and a missing daughter? Who hates me enough to take them both away?”
“It’s not about you,” I said.
Trista gave me a puzzled look but didn’t have the chance to respond before a consistent banging vibrated through the walls.
“Open this door!”
It was Rosalind.
I looked at Trista and indicated with my hand for her to remain seated. “Give me a minute.”
I opened the door a crack and peeked out. A disheveled Rosalind was on the other side with her hands on her hips. Her hair was loose and not tightly wound, like it usually was. I’d never seen her so disheveled before.
“Let me in, Sloane,” Rosalind said. “What are you two talking about in there?”
“I need some time with Trista. We’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“You’ll come out now.”
“Fine, then I’ll be talking to the police. About everything.”
Rosalind glared at me through the slit in the door like she was trying to figure out if I was bluffing. But I never bluffed, and somewhere inside her manipulative heart, she knew it was time to let go. I’d reached my breaking point. No more secrets. No more lies. Rosalind gave me a you-better-keep-your-mouth-shut look to which I tilted my head to the side, smiled and shut the door—again.
I sat on an armchair across from Trista. “Remember when we talked about the night Alexa was born, and you said Alexa’s mother hadn’t wanted her?”
She nodded.
“Alexa’s birth mother did want her. She was told the baby had died.”
“What do you mean?”
“The woman who gave birth to Alexa never wanted to give her up—she wanted to keep her.”
“No…that can’t be true. Who would do such a…”
And then it came to her.
“Rosalind!”
I nodded.
“Why?”
“Rosalind felt the baby deserved a better life.”
“But she can’t just…”
“She did.”
I pulled a worn paper out of my pocket, unfolded it and handed it to Trista. She scanned it for a moment and then looked at me. “Why does this say she’s missing?”
“After Ivy had the baby, she left, but soon after she returned, showing up on Jesse’s doorstep and confessing her love for him. He was paranoid she’d find out the truth about the baby among other things, so he called Doug, Nate, and Rusty over.”
“I don’t understand,” Trista said. “Why get all of them involved?”
“The night Ivy got pregnant, she didn’t just sleep with Doug.”
Trista gasped. “You’re saying…it was all of them?”
I nodded.
“Rosalind paid Ivy to leave town and never return again. I’m sure the guys felt confident no one would ever find out about that night, or Alexa. But then Ivy came back, breaking the agreement.”
Sloane Monroe Series Boxed Set (Books 1-3) Page 52