Gains’s expression turned dark. “He was in the infirmary when an alarm sounded. Usually I was never in the infirmary alone. There were always guards, and often doctors. This was a weird day, though, and the guards outside the door were needed because of a fight in the cafeteria.”
“That left you and Todd alone.”
“Yes, and it wasn’t long before he made a move on me,” she admitted, clearly uncomfortable as she shifted from one foot to the other. “He didn’t try to force himself on me. I want to make that very clear. He did kiss me, though.”
“Did you kiss him back?”
Gains worked her jaw. “I ... guess. It’s all very fuzzy in my head. I don’t know why it happened, or how, but it happened.”
“My understanding is that you were angry when you were transferred,” Kreskin said. “Supposedly you put up a fight because you wanted to stay at the jail. Is that true?”
“I was embarrassed,” she corrected. “I didn’t want to be transferred because I knew people would ask questions. I didn’t want a notation in my file. Ultimately, I realized there was no getting around that, though.”
“And Todd?” Nick queried. “Did you say goodbye to him?”
“I never saw him after that day in the infirmary. When the guard came back, he caught us kissing, and that was it. I tried to talk him out of reporting me, said it had been a lapse in judgment. I guess I could’ve lied and said Winthrop forced himself on me but that wasn’t the truth and didn’t seem fair.”
Nick pursed his lips. “And how do you feel now?”
“I don’t know. I have a job. I’m thankful for that. I’m still embarrassed by what happened at the jail, though. I’m hopeful that eventually people will forget about it. That won’t happen if people like you keep bringing it up.”
“Fair enough.” Kreskin flashed a tight smile. “We only have one more question.”
“Knock yourself out.”
“Have you been in contact with Winthrop since your transfer?”
“Define contact.”
Kreskin leveled a dark look. “I think you know.”
She blew out a heavy sigh. “I have not been in contact with him, but he’s sent me a few letters. He wants me to write him back, engage with him, maybe even stop for a visit or put money in his commissary account. I don’t want anything to do with that so I ignore the letters.”
“Do you still have them?”
She nodded. “They’re in a box in my car. I figured there might come a day when someone came around asking the same questions you’re asking.”
“We need to see those letters.”
“You can take them. I don’t want to see them. Just ... don’t come back. I’ll never move past this if it’s constantly thrown in my face.”
“We can’t make that promise. We’ll do the best that we can, though.”
“I guess that’s all I can ask for.”
NICK SAT IN THE PASSENGER seat of Kreskin’s car and read through the letters as his partner navigated toward the Blue Box Motel.
“These messages are ridiculous,” Nick complained as he scanned through the handwritten notes. “It’s all ‘I really care for you and don’t understand why you cut off contact’ and ‘what happened was a mistake and I’m sorry you paid the price, but I felt something special when we connected.’”
“He was using her as a mark,” Kreskin supplied. “I’m sure he would’ve had sex with her if the emergency lasted longer — you know, scratch that itch — but it wasn’t primarily about the sex. Gains was pretty much the only female face in that prison, which meant he had limited options to work his magic.”
“From what the guard told Maddie, it seemed clear that the men weren’t falling for his act,” Nick said. “Gains was another story. It’s sad, but I can see Todd’s charm working on her. He was a master at manipulating women. Even women I would consider tough and smart fell for his nonsense.”
“I remember the way you reacted when you found out Maddie was going on a date with him.” Kreskin smiled at the memory. “You were furious.”
“That’s because he was a killer.”
Kreskin snorted. “You had no idea he was a killer at the time. You were simply jealous. You didn’t want anyone moving on Maddie before you got a chance to do it yourself.”
Nick considered the statement. “I don’t know that that’s true. I mean ... I was drawn to her from the start, the second I saw she was back in town. I was still angry and hurt, though. Those first two days or so I had no intention of making a move.”
“Your head said that. Your heart had other ideas.”
“Fair enough.” Nick turned his attention back to the letters. “Do you think Todd would’ve been stupid enough to ask Gains to do something illegal for him? I don’t necessarily mean murder — and let’s face it, that’s a tiny woman so there’s no way she moved a body by herself — but maybe something else, like getting him drugs or making contact with someone who would commit murder.”
“That’s an interesting theory.” Kreskin turned thoughtful. “I don’t know. Maybe we should do some more digging on Natalie Gains. You know, just to be on the safe side.”
“It couldn’t hurt.”
THE LOBBY AT THE BLUE BOX Motel was empty except for an oily-looking man standing behind the counter when Nick and Kreskin arrived. They immediately pointed themselves toward the huge wooden desk, and Kreskin pasted what he hoped was a friendly smile on his face.
“Hello. How are you?”
The man merely blinked in response.
“Can you hear us?” Nick asked, waving his hand in front of the man’s face. That caused him to snap out of his semi-trance.
“I can hear you.” he scowled. “I can see and hear you.”
“Uh-huh.” Nick took a moment to scan the lobby. It was poorly illuminated and looked rundown. The hotel wasn’t known as one of the nicer facilities in the area. “Who are you?”
“Matt Granger. I’m the hotel manager.”
“That’s lucky for us.” Kreskin dug in his pocket until he came up with his phone, searching for the photograph of Shelby Capshaw he saved in his files before holding it up. “Can you tell me if you’ve ever seen this woman?”
Granger didn’t bother looking at the phone. “Nope. I’ve never seen her before in my life.”
“Perhaps you should look before you answer,” Nick suggested.
Granger made an exaggerated face before shifting his eyes to the phone. “I’ve never seen her before in my life.” He dragged out the sentence to excruciating levels.
His attitude irritated Nick to the point of no return.
“You know what?” Nick flicked his eyes to his partner. “I’m guessing that our friend needs a memory jog. Perhaps we should call the state police and have them run one of their infamous prostitution and drug stings on the property. Maybe that would loosen his memory.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Kreskin drawled. “Not only will it probably loosen his memory, it will most likely scare all the guests away as well. That’s not necessarily a bad thing because it will mean he has time to clean up the property ... which will become necessary when we send the county code enforcement team out to have a look-see.”
Granger scowled. “Oh, do you have to be like that? This is exactly why people don’t like cops. I’m telling you. It’s attitudes like this that make people mistrustful.”
“Just tell us if you’ve seen her,” Kreskin snapped, waving his phone for emphasis. “We don’t have all day.”
“I’ve seen her.” Granger’s distaste for the situation was obvious, but he had no choice but to answer if he didn’t want his business disrupted. “She’s been here a few times. She meets some guy. They go upstairs to a room for a few hours and then come back down.”
Nick’s forehead wrinkled. “Do you know who the man is?”
“No. We rent rooms by the hour. You can be whoever you want to be when you check in.”
“Did they seem romantic?”
“That’s not what I meant.” Nick frowned. “Did they seem like a couple or ... was she perhaps loaning her services in exchange for money?”
“Oh.” Granger nodded knowingly. “You’re asking if she was on the professional train. I have no idea. I’m going to guess no, though. She seemed legitimately happy to see him the few times they met here.”
“Can you describe the man?”
Granger shrugged. “He looked like a normal guy. He was older, over forty. That’s all I can tell you.”
“Are you sure you don’t have a name?”
“We don’t take names. People don’t want to give them and we don’t want to collect them for the exact reason you’re here. People deserve privacy.”
“What about a sketch artist? If we have someone come out, do you think you could help?”
Granger let loose a dramatic sigh. “What’s in it for me?”
“You get to keep operating your business without us breathing down your neck.”
“Then I guess you have a deal.”
“I thought so.”
Twelve
Since the Blackstone Bay Police Department was small, they didn’t have a sketch artist on staff. Nick called John to see if the state police could help, though, and his brother arranged for a trooper to be stationed at the hotel until the composite was finished. Granger wasn’t happy with the turn of events but there was nothing he could do about it but cooperate ... so that’s what he did.
They picked up lunch at the diner and took it back to the office so they could go over the case from the beginning. That meant digging into the autopsy results, which didn’t offer much by way of narrowing a suspect.
“It was one clean blow,” Kreskin noted as he munched on fries. “There was no hesitation. Whoever stabbed her knew what they were doing.”
“It also says the trajectory was high.” Nick mimicked an arcing motion with his hand. “Shelby was five-foot-six. That’s not tall or short, but I would think that means a man delivered the blow.”
“Also, no woman could’ve dragged her body out to the woods behind George’s house by herself. I think we’re either looking at a man working alone or a team. I can’t decide which option makes more sense.”
“Did you believe Gains? She could’ve been lying. If she was involved, perhaps arranging for someone else to do the deed, then she might’ve had a story prepared for the inevitability of her questioning.”
“It’s possible, but she seemed genuinely embarrassed,” Kreskin replied. “Her cheeks kept flushing and she avoided eye contact for the bulk of the interview. It’s possible she’s the best actress ever, but those reactions are hard to fake over an entire conversation.”
“Good point.” Nick was thoughtful as he stared at the report. “I don’t know where to look. Maybe we should pull the visitor logs from the jail. Todd was always charming. Maybe someone else has been visiting him.
“I mean, think about it,” he continued. “He had a virtual harem of women willing to throw themselves at his feet whenever he needed a date. Marla was desperate to nab him, although she wasn’t picky in that department.”
“You’re not saying you think Marla is part of this, are you?”
“No.” Nick shook his head. “Marla is all about her reputation, the way others perceive her. She chased Todd when he was considered a catch. She thought it would improve her status. In fact, if I remember correctly, she was green with jealousy when he asked Maddie out.”
“She wasn’t the only one.”
“Don’t go there.”
Kreskin’s smirk was self-satisfied. “You’re right about Marla being more concerned about how people perceive her than anything else. She wouldn’t risk her reputation by helping Todd.”
“No, but other women might.”
“I’ll call the jail for a list. I ... .” Kreskin trailed off when a man cleared his throat by the office door, raising his head to find a middle-aged couple standing shoulder-to-shoulder in the archway. “Can I help you?”
“I certainly hope so.” The man stepped forward, his face a mask of emotions that Nick couldn’t quite identify. “My name is Frank White. This is my wife Lydia. We need to file a missing person’s report. The woman at the front desk suggested we come back and talk to you before filling out the paperwork.”
Nick was understandably confused. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”
“Our daughter didn’t come home last night,” Lydia supplied, her eyes wild as they bounced between faces. “We think something bad may have happened to her.”
“Have a seat,” Kreskin instructed, gesturing toward the chairs across from his desk. “We’re going to need some information.” He grabbed a pen from the mug on the corner of his desk and flipped to a new page in his notebook. “What is your daughter’s name?”
“Chelsea,” Frank replied, waiting for his wife to sit before he joined her. He looked tired, as if the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders. “Chelsea White.”
“Okay. How old is she?”
“Eighteen.”
Nick and Kreskin exchanged a quick look.
“Eighteen makes her legally an adult,” Nick hedged, unsure how he wanted to broach the obvious subject. “Are you sure she’s simply not out hanging with friends and forgot to call? Kids that age aren’t always aware of how their actions affect others.”
“Chelsea isn’t like that,” Lydia explained. “She’s a good girl. She always got good grades in school. She’s enrolled at Traverse City Community College for the fall. She’s graduating in two weeks, although she’s already done with her classes.”
“She sounds like a great kid,” Kreskin enthused. “Can you tell me why you believe she’s missing?”
“She didn’t come home last night.”
“I understand that, but is it possible she spent the night with a friend and forgot to call? Have you tried calling her cell phone?”
“We tried calling all night,” Frank confirmed. “When she missed her curfew we gave her an hour before we started calling.”
“And when’s her curfew?”
“Midnight. I know it might sound weird that we make her have a curfew given the fact that she’s an adult, but we told her that the same rules she lived by while in high school would be in effect as long as she was living under our roof.”
“I think that’s more than fair,” Nick said. “My parents did the same thing the summer between high school and when I joined the academy. It’s a hard age but boundaries aren’t necessarily a bad thing. When was the last time you saw her?”
“Yesterday around noon,” Lydia replied. “She was getting ready for work, stopped to talk to me in the kitchen, and let me know that she would be hanging out with some friends when she finished her shift. I didn’t think much of it — she’s been hanging out with these same friends for weeks — so I gave her the regular admonishment about drinking and driving and sent her on her way. That was the last time I talked to her.”
“And where does she work?”
“Blackstone Greenhouse.”
Nick managed to keep his face calm, but just barely. “She works at the greenhouse?”
“Yes, just like that girl who was found murdered a few days ago,” Frank confirmed. “We don’t want to be the sort of parents who freak out for no good reason — she is an adult, after all — but we’re terrified that she met up with the wrong people.”
“I didn’t think it would be a problem to hang out with the people from the greenhouse as long as she was with a group,” Lydia offered hurriedly. “No one knows exactly what happened to that Shelby girl, or how she was killed, but I thought Chelsea would be okay.” Her lower lip quivered as she fought off tears.
“No one is blaming you, Mrs. White,” Kreskin said. “We’re going to need some information, though. That includes a list of all your daughter’s friends, her cell phone information so we can
track the phone, and anything she might have told you about her co-workers.”
“And that will help you find her?” Lydia looked so hopeful that it tore at Nick’s heart.
“We’re going to do our best. Let’s start with the cell phone. What’s the number and who is her service provider? We need to get a warrant in to them right away so we can try and track her movements.”
MADDIE KNEW THAT NICK was busy at work and would miss the opening statements at Todd’s trial. He couldn’t say much — was apparently very busy — but informed her he would fill her in over dinner that night. He tried to talk her out of attending the trial without him, but she declined. This was something she had to see through to the end.
Maddie picked a spot about three rows behind the prosecutor’s table to watch and spent a good twenty minutes eyeing the people bustling around the room. Some were lawyers, both on and off the case. Even for those not involved, it was a big deal and there was a natural curiosity factor.
She recognized Sarah Alden’s family. She met them after the woman’s death and offered a wan wave. She could’ve joined them – things were friendly between them – but it seemed invasive. No matter how Maddie suffered the night Todd and Dustin chased her through the woods and tried to kill her, it was nothing compared to what the Alden family was going through.
In addition to them, Marla and Cassidy were there. They picked a spot in the back corner behind where the defense attorney was setting up shop. They seemed deep in conversation, their heads bent together, and they didn’t as much as look in her direction.
The defense attorney Sam Heaton was another story. Maddie knew him by reputation more than anything else — although she believed they’d met at a festival several months before — and she didn’t return the smile he lobbed in her direction. She found the wink he sent her beyond grating, but managed to tug on her limited patience and remain calm.
“He’s full of himself, huh?” Maude took Maddie by surprise when she appeared out of nowhere and plopped down in the spot to her granddaughter’s right. “I can’t believe he’s flirting with you that way.”
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