CHAPTER EIGHT
Saturday, March 17, 2018; 5:45 a.m.
Near-freezing rain dripped on the windshield as he parked across from Erika Travis Crowley’s big white house. This upscale neighborhood didn’t really stir until about six thirty, and a rain-delayed Saturday slowed them all the more.
However, Erika kept to a rigid, eerily predictable schedule. She didn’t leave her house very often, but on Saturdays she exited her front door at exactly the same time and made the three-mile drive to the small yoga studio. She found comfort in keeping her world contained. Her house was her fortress from the truth. She’d betrayed Gina.
A check of his watch showed it was almost showtime.
Killing Jennifer had been exhilarating, and his body still buzzed with adrenaline. He readily accepted it was his job to dish out her punishment, but he’d not expected to enjoy it so much.
It was smarter to wait before he dealt with Erika and Kaitlin, but the morning rain was too perfect to pass up. Rain washed away so many sins. Better to deal with them now. He’d punish Erika accordingly, and for Kaitlin he had a special windowless room.
The front door snapped open. Black yoga pants and a fitted blue top covered by a snug gray jacket silhouetted a body kept ruthlessly in shape. Socks and clogs warmed her feet. Blond hair was tied into a sleek ponytail reminiscent of her times as part of the Glittering Trio at Saint Mathew’s. Gina, Jennifer, and Erika had been at the peak of the school’s social pecking order, and they knew it.
As he inched lower, the torn vinyl on the seat rubbed against his T-shirt. The magnetic sign on the side of the truck read TURNER PLUMBING. The letters were in red, a color easily remembered if anyone were watching. He’d stolen the truck and would soon ditch it.
Erika’s Mercedes pulled out of the driveway, and he followed. He watched her race through a yellow light and then turn abruptly at the corner ahead.
He stayed several car lengths behind, careful to keep her in his sights. He knew where she was going, but today it was important he be there when she arrived.
He watched her pull into a parking spot near the back entrance of the yoga studio. Repeated observation revealed she preferred this spot because she could slip inside through the back door. That was Erika. She didn’t like to interact with people much anymore.
He slid into the space beside Erika, parking within inches of the passenger side of her car. He opened his door and smacked it hard into the sleek, polished navy-blue finish, leaving an angry white scratch.
She glanced up, alarmed. For a second, she just sat there staring at him. And then she ducked her head against the rain and hurried around the car. Keys clutched in her hand, she studied the jagged white mark in the side door of her car as the rain dripped on her hair and shoulders.
“What have you done?” Her voice was high pitched and rippling with stress. “My husband is going to have a fit when he sees this.”
Tugging a ball cap forward, he slid out of the car and made a show of studying the scratch. “Wow, did I make that?”
“Yes, you did. What the hell, why weren’t you thinking?” She folded her arms over her chest, her teeth already chattering a little. As she looked toward the studio door, her shoulders tensed. The clock was ticking, and she was going to be late for class.
“I’ve a rag and some rubbing compound. I bet once I’m done with it, you’ll never know there was a scratch.” He moved to the back of the truck and opened the camper top.
Her jaw clenched as she shook her head and ran her finger over the jagged surface before following him. “You can’t buff a deep mark out. It’ll have to go to a body shop.”
“Naw, I can fix it right up.” He grinned as he rummaged for a tool in a dented red toolbox.
“You can’t just rub it out!”
A car pulled into the parking lot, but the female driver barely tossed them a glance as she rushed through the rain into the building, a green yoga mat tucked under her arm.
She was inches away now. Mad. Spouting frustration. Closer. Closer. And then she ducked her head under the raised camper top. They were nose to nose.
Erika’s demeanor changed. “Is this some kind of a joke? I told you we’d meet later.”
He slid his hand into his pocket, removed a syringe, and plunged it into her arm. “No joke, baby.”
She flinched and recoiled, dropping her keys onto the wet parking lot. “What the hell?” Already her words were slurring.
“I’m changing the plan. You’re going to help me get Kaitlin.” He picked up her keys and hit the trunk release on her car.
Her knees buckled as she tried to steady herself against the truck.
He wrapped his arm around her and shuffled her toward the open trunk of her car. Her response was an incoherent mess, but it didn’t matter.
Not now.
He drove twenty minutes north to the deserted parking lot of a closed gas station on Route 1. Weeds sprouted from the cracks in the asphalt, and the windows of the garage were covered in brown paper. He drove around back and parked next to his truck. Moving quickly, he opened the car trunk and truck’s camper top.
Erika lay on her side in the trunk, her body curled into a fetal position. It would be hours before the drugs were out of her system. He quickly lifted and placed her body in the back of the truck, then taped her wrists and ankles before he covered her with a tarp.
The drive to his house took a half hour. He was careful to watch his speed and put his blinker on each time he switched lanes.
When he pulled up to his home, he pressed the garage door button, and when it opened he carefully drove into the clean, neatly organized space. The door closed behind him.
Out of the cab, he walked to the back and opened the camper top. Now that they were alone, he had the time to admire her. He pushed back a lock of her blond hair. Her soft perfume wafted around her. She was beautiful. She’d kept her body fit and trim, and she was always dressed to perfection.
Now he was going to strip that perfection away. Like Jennifer, it was time to be punished. He lifted her into his arms and carried her into the house and downstairs to a darkened basement room. He’d been in this room so many times getting it ready for her, he didn’t need light to know where to step or where to lay her. He knelt and settled her body on the cold floor.
He kissed her on the cheek, wishing he had time to linger. “It’s time to pay for your crimes.”
She appeared to frown, but she didn’t open her eyes. He left her unconscious, locking the door behind him.
Normally Saint Mathew’s wouldn’t be open on a Saturday. But today was Saint Patrick’s Day and also one of the school’s biggest fund-raisers, which was scheduled for this afternoon. When Kaitlin had called the principal, Dr. Williams had agreed to meet her at the school before the hectic day began.
Kaitlin parked at the front entrance on the street. Saint M.’s, as the student’s called it, had classes K through twelve, and many of the students had known each other since before kindergarten. That’s how it had been with Gina, Erika, and Jennifer. Whereas the others shared a lifetime of school years together and affluent backgrounds, Kaitlin had been the outsider and dirt poor. Kaitlin’s aunt had picked up the tab for her tuition.
The school’s brick facade had a worn patina hinting to its nearly one hundred years in service. The planters out front were still filled with yellow winter pansies, as they had been when she’d been a student here. Come mid-May the groundskeeper would change out the pansies with yellow marigolds. The world kept convulsing forward, but Saint Mathew’s stayed a steady course.
The signs on the school’s front door advertised the afternoon garden fund-raiser as well as the upcoming song competition held between the four high school classes. This spring contest, which had seemed so important when she’d been a student, now was a pleasant triviality. Gina had been the leader of her senior class, and they’d won, of course. Whatever that girl had touched turned golden, and if Kaitlin were honest with herself, that Midas touch had made it hard to love her cousin.
Kaitlin pressed the intercom button by the front door, which she knew was always locked.
“Yes?”
“Kaitlin Roe to see Dr. Margaret Williams. I’ve an appointment.”
“She’s expecting you.” The front door latch clicked open, and she entered the school. Smells transported memories better than sight or sound, and as she closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, she could almost imagine the last fourteen years had melted away and nothing but happiness and hope lay before her.
Without glancing at directional signs she walked the hallway and ducked into the second door on the right that was still the office. Once inside, she introduced herself to the principal’s secretary, who escorted her to the end of the hallway.
Dr. Margaret Williams rose from behind an old desk to greet Kaitlin. Kaitlin remembered Dr. Williams, who hadn’t changed much in the last fourteen years. For such a large title, Williams was a tiny woman with dark hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and a warm but slightly wary smile. She ran a tight ship and was loved by both the students and the alumni.
“Thank you for seeing me, Dr. Williams,” Kaitlin said, extending her hand.
“I’m always glad to visit with alumni. You said on the phone you’re making a documentary about Gina Mason.”
“A podcast. Gina and I were both students here at the same time. She was a senior. I was a sophomore.”
Her smile sobered. “Of course, I remember you both. Tragic case.” Dr. Williams motioned to the seat in front of her desk. “Please, sit. What can I help you with?”
Kaitlin lowered into the seat. “I need to know what happened to Gina.”
“That’s noble. How will a podcast help?”
“My hope is the piece will refocus the spotlight on her. Someone knows something. Maybe enough time has passed and the truth isn’t so guarded.”
Knitting her fingers together, Dr. Williams leaned forward. “Well, I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
Kaitlin flipped to a clean page in her notebook and turned on the recorder. “I don’t have access to any police files, but I’ve read every article ever written about the case. You were interviewed by the police and media, correct?”
“I was. I joined the staff in January 2004, so I was here for the spring semester and onward. I got to know her quickly because she always stood out. To refresh my memory, I did pull the 2004 yearbook. Gina was very accomplished. I was a chaperone at prom when she was crowned queen. Her prom date was another senior, Tom Davenport. They were such a handsome couple.”
Kaitlin scrawled down Tom’s name as a reminder to call him next. “They broke up right after graduation. I lost track of him when I moved back to Texas. What’s he doing these days?”
“He returned for the ten-year reunion a few years ago. He’s a money manager. Doing well. Has an office here in Richmond on Main Street.”
Gina had downplayed her breakup with Tom, saying it was mutual. “Time for us both to go to college with a fresh start.” Like Kaitlin, the police had ridden Tom hard. “Was there anyone who didn’t like Gina?”
“Not that I knew of. She was a lovely, sweet girl.”
“When was the last time you saw Jennifer?”
Dr. Williams frowned. “That poor girl. Last year’s Saint Patrick’s Day fund-raiser. That class was always good about reunions, I think because of Gina. We all had a moment of silence for her.”
“Did Jennifer have a date?”
“She did. An engineer, I believe. But I don’t remember his name. I do remember she looked nervous. I think coming back here was never easy for her after what happened.”
“What about Erika?”
“She was very reserved. The girl I had remembered was outgoing, but sadly she’s not anymore.”
“And her husband, Brad?” Kaitlin asked. “Did he come to the event?”
Some of the smile faded. “I did see him, but they left early. I didn’t get a chance to visit with them.”
“Why?”
“She said she wasn’t feeling well.”
“Do you know anything about a student named Randy Hayward? I know he was before your time. He’d have graduated with Brad Crowley and Derek Blackstone.”
“I know of him, but we never met. I can tell you Derek has been a real friend to Saint Mathew’s.”
“Really?”
“He’s a lovely man. He’s an attorney and done quite a bit of pro bono work for the school. If you go into the meditation garden, there’s a memorial bench in Gina’s honor. He paid for it. In fact, he’s receiving a service award this afternoon. He should be arriving at the school soon.”
She remembered Blackstone. He was a tall, moody man who’d dated Ashley. “Good to have such a strong alumni network.”
“We’d love to see you at your next class reunion. You’re welcome to attend this afternoon’s fund-raiser.”
“I was only here my sophomore year. I never graduated.”
“That doesn’t matter to us. Once you’re a Saint Mathew’s student, you’re always one.”
“Thanks. I might try to come by this afternoon.”
Dr. Williams removed a VHS tape from a drawer. “I did find this when I was looking in the archives for the old yearbook. VCRs were state of the art when the tape was made, but there are still a few machines around to play it.”
“What is it?”
“A video of Gina. We have a VHS player in the teacher’s lounge, so I watched it. She made it right at the beginning of senior year. It made me smile and cry. We can go up there now and see it, if you’ve time.”
Kaitlin accepted the tape. It had been fourteen years since she’d heard Gina’s voice. And she wasn’t sure how she’d react. “I can get a video player at the university. Thank you. Is there anyone else here at the school who might have known Gina?”
“We do have a teacher on staff who graduated about the same year as Gina. Angela Baxter. She’s here early like me to set up for the fund-raiser. We can ask her if she’d be willing to talk to you.”
“That would be great. Mind if we do it now?”
“Sure. I’ll walk you to her classroom.”
Dr. Williams led Kaitlin up a flight of stairs and along a hallway decorated with glittering paper shamrocks. She paused at a door and knocked. “Ms. Baxter, I’ve a visitor who’d like to speak to you.”
Angela Baxter capped a red pen and rose up from behind a wooden desk covered with stacks of papers. Bright images of rainbows painted by the students splashed the walls of the room, and large windows overlooked a student vegetable garden. In the rear of the room was a display of ten science projects, all contenders for first place in the school competition.
Angela came around her desk, and her smile froze when she looked at Kaitlin, who still didn’t fit the Saint Mathew’s mold as an alumna or parent of a prospective student. Still, she extended her hand and introduced herself. “Angela Baxter. I remember you.”
Kaitlin accepted her hand, remembering the girl had been a gossip in high school and was always in everyone’s business. “Angela. You look just like you did in high school.”
Angela grinned. “You don’t look like you’ve aged a day. Are you here for the alumni event?”
Dr. Williams explained why Kaitlin was there, and Angela’s bright smile sobered. “Sure, I’d be glad to talk about Gina. I’ve a few minutes now.”
“That would be great,” Kaitlin said.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Dr. Williams said. “Kaitlin, I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”
“Thank you.”
The principal laid her hand on Kaitlin’s forearm. “You and Gina are in my prayers.”
When Dr. Williams left, Kaitlin and Angela sat at two front-row student desks. Kaitlin pulled out her notebook and recorder and explained her project again. “What do you remember about Gina?”
Angela smiled. “I first met her in the third grade when I transferred to Saint Mathew’s. We weren’t friends right away, but even then she was the one everyone gravitated to.”
“I remember you were friends also in high school, right?”
“We ate lunch together sometimes and shared a few classes. I wouldn’t call us close friends, but in a small school like Saint Mathew’s, we all knew each other.”
“I remember you telling me that you’d heard rumors about Gina. Can you talk about those rumors?”
“There were some who thought Gina had staged the whole thing and that she’d run away. She fought with her mother the morning she vanished. And everyone knew she’d been under a lot of pressure to stay perfect.”
Kaitlin caught herself before she rebutted the idea. Part of the podcast’s purpose was to play devil’s advocate and explore all the angles and theories.
“Do you believe that?”
“God, no. Gina loved the school, and she had the golden ticket to the Ivy League schools. She had it all. I mean, yes, she was under a lot of pressure, but she looked like she could handle it. Though when you arrived she seemed a little more stressed.”
Kaitlin had upended her aunt and uncle’s family. She’d not been easy or grateful for the chance. “How did things change?”
“You didn’t fit in.” Angela fiddled with a pencil resting in a groove on the desk. “But you hadn’t grown up with us. I came to the school in third grade, and I was the new girl for years. No way as a sophomore you would’ve fit in.”
“It was more than that, wasn’t it?”
Angela nodded and shrugged. “You didn’t want to be here. You weren’t crazy about wearing a uniform. You definitely weren’t happy about Friday-morning prayer. And then you decided if you couldn’t be perfect like Gina, you’d be bad. That’s when you started dating Randy Hayward. You know he ended up in jail.”
“Yes, I heard. What do you remember about Randy?”
“He had come home for college spring break and announced he wasn’t going back. He showed up at senior prom for God’s sake.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“He snuck in the back. Security caught him. Said he was an alumnus and was just visiting. They made him leave.”
He’d had a rawboned look when Kaitlin had first seen him in late spring of ’04. The collar of his worn leather jacket was popped, and she’d immediately seen he didn’t belong at the school. His bad-boy reputation had been honey.
“Do you remember him with Gina?”
“He tried to talk to her at prom. She called him a loser, and it pissed him off. That’s when security saw him and tossed him off the property.”
“A few months later she vanished,” Kaitlin remarked.
Angela cocked her head. “He was arrested that fall, right?”
“For burglary.”
“He stole from his mother. He was a real piece of work. I don’t know what you saw in him, Kaitlin.”
“Neither do I. Do you think he knows what happened to Gina?”
Angela hesitated and then nodded. “Yes, I do. When I heard the cops had released him, I was shocked. I was sure we’d finally know what happened. Why did they let him go?”
“They didn’t have enough proof.”
“That’s right. You couldn’t identify him.”
“Yep.” Kaitlin imagined an accusation under the statement. She checked her watch, remembering why she had avoided Angela in high school. “I’ve a Saturday study session with my own students. I’m going to have to leave.”
“Oh, yeah, sure. I hope I was some help.”
“You were,” she lied.
“You’ll keep us posted on your project?” Angela’s practiced look of concern hadn’t changed since high school.
“I will.”
“I’d like to hear it when you’re finished. Maybe Saint Mathew’s can sponsor a venue.”
“Maybe.”
Angela hesitated as if undecided about giving her a handshake or a hug. She smoothed her hands over her jeans, opting to do neither. “Good to see you.”
“Yes.” Kaitlin left Angela’s room and made her way down to the main hallway.
On the way out of the school, she heard, “Kaitlin Roe.”
She turned toward the deep masculine voice. It had been fourteen years since she’d seen Derek Blackstone, but he looked much the same as she remembered. His hair was a little gray at the temples, but he remained fit. He strode toward her, the folds of his jacket hugging a trim waist and broad shoulders.
Kaitlin moved toward him, closing the gap. She extended her hand, doing her best to look relaxed and confident. She took his hand, smiling as strong fingers clamped around hers. “Derek. You look great.”
He allowed his gaze to roam over her before he released her hand. “I could say the same about you. What are you doing here? Investigating Gina still?”
“That’s exactly what I am doing.”
“Randy told me about your visit.”
She hid her disgust for Derek, harnessing all the lessons she’d learned in public relations. “I assume he’ll have news to share soon about Gina.”
He chuckled softly. “You know I can’t say anything about that.”
“Anything you say is strictly off the record.” He was too smooth and practiced to give a comment, but it didn’t hurt to ask.
A dark brow arched. “No such thing, Kaitlin.”
She couldn’t resist the urge to press. “You dated Ashley in the summer of ’04. You were only a mile from the river when Gina vanished.”
His smile remained fixed. “I’m assuming you have a point to make.”
“You were best friends with Hayward, and you knew him better than anyone. You would have been the guy he called if he’d done something stupid like kill Gina.”
Blackstone’s body appeared relaxed, and anyone looking at them would never suspect he was tense unless they could see how his eyes had now hardened. “You’re wrong.”
Dr. Williams appeared in the hallway and moved toward them. Blackstone leaned in and in a voice loud enough for only her to hear said, “Be careful. When you poke around in the dark, it’s easy to find something that bites back.” He winked, then turned toward Dr. Williams.
There was no missing Blackstone’s threat, and Kaitlin wasn’t foolish enough to dismiss it. As dangerous as Randy was, Derek was more so. But she was glad she’d seen him and had a chance to face him—and maybe rattle his cage a little.
She hurried to her car and drove along Grove Avenue toward the university. She parked and dashed to the audiovisual offices, where the department chair was tinkering with a microfilm machine.
“Stephanie,” Kaitlin said.
The brunette swiveled in her chair and smiled. “What brings you here? More questions about audio equipment?”
She held up the VHS. “This time it’s more basic. Can I use your equipment later today and transfer this to a DVD or a thumb drive?”
Stephanie took the tape. “I’ll do it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’ve got the time. Give me a day. This for the Gina project?”
“It is. It’s supposed to be a tape of Gina.”
“How’s that going?”
“I’m no closer to finding Gina. I’ve also been reminded several times what a screwup I was in high school.”
Stephanie shrugged. “Cut yourself a break. Most of us were screwups in high school. What’s important now is that you’re trying to find Gina. That counts.”
“Sometimes it feels like it’s too little and too late.”
“It’s not.”
Kaitlin smiled. “Thanks. I’ve got to go. My study session is starting, and I’m on borrowed time.”
Stephanie nodded. “I’ll email you when it’s ready.”
“I owe you.”
“I’d like to see Gina found, too.”