by Linda Berry
“Viciously. Alone in the woods. Terrorized.”
“Bastard…” Jason seethed through clenched teeth.
“Who’s the bastard?”
Jason wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve. His fingers trembled.
“Talk to me, Jason.”
He struggled to restrain himself, but anger vibrated off him. A vein swelled on his forehead.
“You cared about her, Jason. She deserves justice. Give me a name.”
The vein on his forehead pulsed.
Silence.
“Here’s what I think.” Sidney met his moist eyes. “You and Samantha spent a lot of time together. Enough to make her parents and friends think you were her boyfriend. You did drugs together. When people get high, they babble. I think you had a private window into Samantha’s life. You know who gave her those expensive gifts, supplied her habit. Someone with big drug connections.”
“Chief, you’re dead wrong.” His voice cracked, and he paused to compose himself. “There’s no big drug trafficker in Garnerville. If there was, I’d know. Dealers here are small-time. They get their dope from out of town. Mostly opioids and smack. They sell to a handful of faithful users.”
“Who is he?”
Jason sat still. Not a word, an expression, a twitch.
Sidney wanted to shake him. She balled her hands into fists under the table.
Darnell’s shoulders lifted and tightened. His eyes sparked. He looked as though he, too, wanted to grab Jason by the shirt.
“Give me a name,” Sidney said, forcing her hands to unclench. “For Sammy.”
Jason sat back with his arms crossed, his jaw set in determination. “Don’t you get it? What happened to Sammy was payback. A warning. Snitch, you die. Nobody in town’s gonna talk to you.”
“Someone will, Jason. Someone always does. Just pray it happens before there’s another murder. That will be on you.”
His lip curled up in a sneer. “I told you all I know. I’m outta here.” He scraped back his chair and rose to his feet.
Sidney rounded the table and stood inches from him, their eyes level. She smelled coffee on his breath, felt his body heat. “If I find you’ve obstructed this investigation by holding back evidence, I’ll make it my personal mission to put you behind bars.”
He flinched.
“You on drugs, Jason?” she asked in a threatening tone. “Maybe we should investigate you more closely.”
A muscle twitched in his cheek. He shook his head instead of answering. Afraid his tone would give him away?
“Do some hard thinking, Jason. See if you have a conscience somewhere in that thick skull of yours.” She handed him her card and backed away. “Call me with that name.”
Clutching the card, Jason lurched out of the room.
Wrestling to control her temper, Sidney returned to the table and tucked Samantha’s photo back in the folder.
“What an ass-wipe.” Darnell said, his eyes bright and angry. “He and Samantha were tight. Yet, he’s protecting a murder suspect. You scared him shitless, Chief.”
“Yeah, but is he more afraid of me, or the man he’s protecting?” She rubbed the tight muscles in the back of her neck. “Who the hell is this mystery man?”
“Jason looked terrified when you mentioned Noah.”
“He’s scared all right. But Noah’s hardly a high roller.”
“I’ll get on the computer. Bore through convicted drug dealers in the tri-city area.”
“Specifically, any with money.”
“Most are meth cookers. Brains fried, toothless. Hardly suave guys who give away Rolex watches.”
The young officer’s earnestness impressed her. She forced a smile. “You never know what will slither out from under a rock. See if any other women in Oregon have been killed in a similar fashion to our two victims.”
Darnell left to work on the computer. Sidney entered her small office and made a call to Officer Amanda Cruz.
Amanda picked up on the second ring. “What’s up, Chief?”
“When you searched Samantha’s duplex, did you come across expensive jewelry? A Rolex watch with diamonds, or diamond earrings?”
“No. I’d remember that.”
“Thanks, Amanda.” She clicked off and sat back in her chair, brushing an eyebrow with an index finger and staring out the window. The sky was beginning to cloud over and the wind sent leaves swirling over the parking lot.
Winnie buzzed her. “Matt Howard’s here.”
“Send him in.”
Sidney swiveled her chair to face the young man as he shuffled through the door. Dressed in dirty work clothes, eyes red-rimmed under his ball cap, Matt looked grief-stricken. Hardly the kind of man who would instill fear in Jason, or the headstrong waitress, Tracy.
“I’m on my lunch break but I wanted to drop this off.” He handed Sidney a file folder.
“Accounts for my whereabouts the day of Sammy’s death. Names and numbers of everyone on my work crews.”
Inside was a single sheet of paper with a list of names and numbers. Thorough. “Thanks, Matt. We’ll check this out.”
He lingered, shifting from one foot to the other. “Know when those lab tests will be back?”
“Should be Monday.”
“So, I have three days of freedom before you arrest me?”
She hated to admit he might be right. His testimonies wouldn’t be worth the paper they were printed on, unless lab results pointed to another suspect. She repeated one of her father’s time worn adages. “Justice will prevail.”
“Even if the pope vouched for me, I’d still be arrested.”
“Or the lab results will prove your innocence.”
Looking unconvinced, he turned to leave.
“Quick question, Matt. Did you ever see Samantha wearing expensive jewelry?”
He scratched the back of his neck. “Is a watch considered jewelry?”
“Yep.”
“The last time I saw her she was wearing a Rolex. It had a circle of diamonds around the face.”
“Any earrings?”
He thought for moment. “Yeah. Diamond studs.”
“Know where she got them?”
He shrugged. “I assumed her parents bought them for her. A reward for getting clean. Why?”
“Not important.”
After Matt left, Sidney updated her case file. Samantha’s jewelry wasn’t found on her body, and likely had been taken by her killer, along with her purse and phone. Why did the killer keep them? Again, no pattern between the two victims. Mimi’s purse and phone were still in her car.
Sidney gave a description of the jewelry to Winnie and told her to notify pawnshops in the tri-city area to watch out for them. Then she called Samantha’s parents. Jack Ferguson answered and Sidney gently asked about the jewelry. He knew nothing about it, and put her on hold while he asked his wife. When he got back on the line, he assured her they knew nothing of the watch and earrings. Jason had been telling the truth, at least about this. Gifts from her anonymous boyfriend.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SIDNEY PULLED into the driveway as Selena’s Jeep disappeared behind the descending garage door. She met her sister in the kitchen where Selena was squatting on the tiled floor over a shattered picture frame, pulling out the bigger fragments of glass and dropping them into the trashcan.
“Did you break this?” she asked, looking up.
“No.” The photo was a close-up shot of Selena and Randy grinning at the camera, taken years ago, before calamity ruptured their marriage. To Sidney, the smashed frame seemed oddly prophetic. “One of the cats must have knocked it off the counter. Probably Chili. He makes it his life’s mission to get into trouble.”
“Chili the rabble rouser. It was set back close to the wall. Don’t know how he managed it.”
“Mischief is an art. If he were human, he’d be one of the Three Stooges.”
“Yeah. Curly.”
Sidney set the frame safely on the counte
r. She crouched and helped her sister pick up pieces of glass, then she got out the dustpan and broom and swept up the smallest shards.
“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Selena scooped a few almonds into her hand from a glass container, leaned against the counter, popped them in her mouth, and crunched while studying Sidney’s face.
“I stopped by Katie’s Café last night to ask questions about Samantha.” Sidney drew in a long breath and released it. Delivering this bad news to her sister was harder than she anticipated. “We talked about Randy.”
Selena frowned, and waited expectantly.
“He’s going to serve you divorce papers.”
Selena’s eyes widened, and her mouth fell open. It took a few moments for her to respond. “Wow. That just knocked the wind out of me.”
“There’s more. He’s living with Allison in the family guesthouse.”
“Allison who?”
“Katie’s daughter.”
“You mean, like roommates?”
“Yeah. Roommates who sleep together.”
Sidney had seen shock portrayed on many faces in her profession, and her sister showed all the symptoms. She stared, blinking, seemingly unable to comprehend the words.
“I don’t believe any of it,” Selena finally said. She paced the length of the kitchen, turned and paced back to Sidney. “Randy told you this?”
“No. He was busy cooking. Katie told me.”
“She’s mistaken. He wouldn’t cheat on me. Certainly not with Allison. She’s just a kid. What, sixteen?”
“She’s eighteen. And very pregnant.”
Selena’s eyebrows pinched and Sidney could practically see her mind churning, trying to make sense of it.
“I heard the rumors,” Selena said. “Doug Ratcher knocked her up. The high school linebacker, right?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “So that’s what’s going on. Doug won’t take responsibility. Somehow, Katie got Randy to take on the burden. In exchange for a job.”
“Randy and Allison made the decision on their own,” Sidney said quietly. “He’s the father of her baby.”
“Impossible.” Selena’s breathing grew rapid. Sidney could see the pulse pounding in her neck. “He’s only been back two months.”
“He’s been staying with her between rodeo gigs for the last nine months.”
Selena looked as though she’d been punched in the gut. She gagged, and barely made it to the trashcan before she retched everything in her stomach. Then she dry-heaved, holding her hair back with one hand, the side of the bin with the other.
“Take a breath.” Sidney came up behind her, handed her some paper towels, rubbed her back.
Selena lifted her head slowly, as though it weighed twenty pounds. She straightened her posture and wobbled.
Sidney steadied her with a firm hand to her elbow.
Selena tried to speak, but all that came out was a soul-wrenching sob, and she fell into Sidney’s arms.
Sidney held her tight and felt Selena’s tears seep into the fabric of her uniform. When she pulled away, her mascara was smeared across her cheeks, and bits of vomit were clumped in her hair. In between choking sobs she mumbled something incoherent about Randy.
“We better sit down.” Sidney guided her sister into the living room.
Selena sank like a heavy weight into the pile of throw pillows on the sofa. Sidney settled next to her, along with the four cats, one draped across each lap, two draped on the back of the sofa. Selena looked like the tear streaked little girl in sneakers and pigtails Sidney consoled and protected when they were kids. Only back then it was scraped elbows and knees, not a pummeled heart. Selena was just eleven when Sidney left for the police academy at age eighteen.
“I’m sorry… (hiccup)… to keep you away from work.”
“It’s okay,” she said gently. “I’m on a break.” She wasn’t. But her sister was in crisis. Her heavy workload could wait.
“I can’t believe Randy cheated. He wants a divorce?” Pain etched Selena’s face. “I’ve been so stupid. Thinking we’d get back together. And all this time he’s been sleeping with someone else.” Selena dissolved into a new chain of sobs.
Sidney handed her sister tissues from her duty belt and felt a hot prickle of rage sweep up to her hairline. For years, she had watched her brother-in-law inflict emotional damage on Selena. She imagined herself storming into Katie’s and arresting Randy on some trumped-up charge, slamming him into a cell, and leaving him there to rot—or at least breaking a tray of gooey pastries over his head. Jelly donuts would do the trick, or chocolate éclairs.
Selena blew her nose, wiped her eyes, smeared more mascara. New tears filled her eyes. At this rate, she’d need a beach towel. Sidney brought a box of tissue from the bathroom and patiently waited for another break in the flood of sobs and wilted tissue.
“What else did Katie tell you?” Selena finally asked, voice hoarse.
Sidney sorted through all the information Katie had dumped on her, pulling out enough details to be honest without being brutal. “Randy told Katie and Gus you had agreed to a divorce. Katie thought it was in the works.”
“He’s a liar.”
“He did a con job on them, Selena. They think he’s a stand-up guy. A great match for Allison. They brought him into the family like a long-lost son. Into the business. They’re grooming him for management.” For now, Selena didn’t need to know about the upcoming wedding.
“I can’t believe it.” Selena’s eyes squeezed shut but tears still leaked out. “He traded me for a teenager. Got her pregnant.” She sniffed, blotted her eyes. “I feel so old and useless. If only I could have had a baby, none of this would have happened. He never would have left me.”
“It’s not your fault.” Sidney locked eyes with her sister. “Don’t take responsibility for Randy’s shitty behavior. He abandoned you. He sexually manipulated Allison.”
Selena hung on every word, chin quivering.
“Adults are supposed to guide and educate young people, not lure them into the bedroom.”
“You’re right. He’s despicable. Lowdown and sleazy,” Selena sputtered. Then her voice grew stronger, angrier. “Cheating! Lying! Sleeping with a teenager! A grown man!”
“Now you’re catching on. A decent man would never have taken advantage of Allison. Never have left you.” Sidney paused a few beats. “One day you’ll be thankful he’s out of your life. He doesn’t come anywhere near to being good enough for you.”
Selena slowly nodded. It appeared she had reached a plateau where the sharpest sting had worn off. The weeping, for the moment, had ebbed. More would come. Lots more.
“You’ve created a life apart from Randy,” Sidney reminded her in a calm, soothing tone. “Your business is thriving. You pay all your own bills. It’s clear to me, you’ve been happy.”
“You’re right,” she sniffed. “I’ve been fine.”
“Better than fine. You’re smart, kind, and beautiful.”
“I’m also fucked up, insecure, and neurotic.” She gave Sidney a lopsided smile.
Sidney smiled back. “Runs in the family.”
“Right now, I’m disgusting. My mouth tastes awful. I need to shower.” Selena licked her dry lips and picked a bit of vomit from her hair with her fingernails.
“I need to get back to work. It’s been a hell of a week.”
“You look exhausted. Why don’t you come to Ann’s for dinner? I’m making chicken stew and buttermilk biscuits.”
“Yum. What time?”
“Seven o’clock. That’s when Granger stops by.”
“I’ll try.” Sidney rose from the couch.
Wiping her nose, Selena shook off Chili and got to her feet. The orange tabby meowed and settled into the warm spot she left on the sofa. They walked across the worn Asian rug to the front door.
“I’m going to pack up all of Randy’s clothes and pile them in the yard,” Selena declared. “I want every single thing of his out of here this after
noon.”
“Time well spent.”
“I’ll leave a message for him with Katie. He’s never stepping foot in this house again.”
“Great.” Positive action. Good sign. Sidney put her hand on the doorknob, hesitated, and turned back to her sister. “Look, I want you to pull yourself together tomorrow night. Get beautiful. We’re going out.”
“Where?”
“The Art Studio. They’re having an event. Great art. Champagne. It’ll be fun.”
Selena frowned, and her shoulders slumped. “I’m really not up for it.”
“Yes. You are. Do it for me?” Sidney bit her bottom lip. “There’s a guy I’m interested in.”
“A guy?” Selena’s light green eyes brightened with interest.
“It may not go anywhere, but I’d like to get your opinion.”
“Before you take the plunge?”
“Yeah.”
“Be careful. You can’t put toothpaste back in the tube.”
“I know. I’ll go slow.”
“Of course, I’ll go with you, but I won’t stay long.”
“Great.” Sidney hugged her sister tight and left the house.
She was grateful Selena had Ann, and they provided support for one another. Both were so wounded. So fucked up. Sidney’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel as she settled into the driver’s seat of the Yukon. There were so many lost people in the world, slogging through the shit fields of life, wearing painted masks of happiness. Something Sidney understood too well. Master of illusion.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
THE GRIEF GROUP met in a small upstairs room at the Episcopal Church. The pitched roof gave it the appearance of an attic, closed in and musty, with dust motes swirling in the light from three dormer windows. Shelves along two walls spilled over with yellowed books, and five folding chairs were grouped in a circle in the center of the wood-planked floor. To Selena, it looked like a forgotten room, where distressed people came to hide and turn their souls inside out.
Someone had volunteered to bring a carafe of coffee and cookies. Gripping a warm Styrofoam cup, Selena huddled in the circle next to Ann, watching other women wander in. Glancing at Ann, she fought an impulse to run. Her friend sat hunched in her seat, hands clasped in her lap, face a stone mask. Hell, if Ann could do this, so could she.