Read Dark Passing (The Ella Reynolds Series) Online
Authors: Liz Schulte
Moments later I was in her small, very messy car. I waited outside as she cleaned an assortment of trash, magazines, and bags off of the passenger seat. The floor was nearly as full, leaving nowhere to put my feet, but I wasn’t in a position to be choosy. Deanna chattered on and on as we drove out. When we finally reached the house, my ears hummed from the constant noise of her voice. I thanked her and climbed out of the car.
“You want me to wait around?”
“No, that’s okay. Thank you again.”
Deanna waved as she drove away. The difference a handful of miles made in people’s reaction to me was still startling. I doubted anyone in Montgomery would’ve been so accommodating for me. I shook my head and approached the double doors once more. One door opened without me having to knock; Lola stood in the entranceway, perfectly put together, as usual.
“Thank you for coming alone,” she said with a nod.
“I haven’t told them anything, yet. But I’m going to after this, and I’m sure Fagan will want to speak with Alfie.”
She lifted her eyebrows and gave me a dismissive smile. “He’s in the pool house. Follow me.”
She led me through the house and out the back door. There was a small cottage next to the drained pool. She opened the door and motioned me in. Alfie sat on a loveseat that nearly spanned the length of the small room, playing a video game. I took a seat on the wicker chair facing him, and Lola sat in the matching chair on the other side of the room.
“Any time you’re ready,” I told him.
He stood and shut off the game, then sat back down. “Where do you want me to start?”
“The beginning’s generally best.”
He stared at the floor and cracked his knuckles. “I didn’t know Mary well before college, but when I met her on campus, I don’t know, we just sort of hit it off. She was cool. At first she hung out with me and my friends a lot. Then she stopped coming by, always busy. I just thought she was worried about school since she was on scholarship.”
“You should be more worried about school,” Lola grumbled, and Alfie rolled his eyes.
“I didn’t really know what was going on, but I still invited her places. Anyway, I was having a party on the 12
th
that she promised she’d come to, but then she didn’t show. I called her a couple times, but she didn’t answer. Then I heard that girl Deanna say something about how Mary was with Buddy.”
Alfie’s jaw clenched and his hands became white-knuckled fists. “All of my dad’s cronies call him that, have for as long as I can remember. Then Deanna mentioned Horton’s and, well, everything fit. He’d been absent more recently than normal. My dad.” He shook his head.
When Alfie looked back at me, his eyes were liquid. “After I figured it out, I couldn’t stand to be around those people anymore. I went home, so angry, and told my mom what was happening—”
“I told Ella this part this morning, dear.” Lola shot me a look, daring me to challenge her. Despite wanting to hear his version, I couldn’t fault her for wanting to protect her son as much as she could, so I nodded.
“What did you do after you left the house?” I prompted.
He shrugged. “I drove around for a while. I ended up back in Smithton. Lakota wrecked my phone, so I never got Mom’s call.”
“Okay, but why did you run away? If this is all that happened, you have an alibi. Why’d you leave?”
His eyes whipped around to his mom, and she sized me up. “Alfie doesn’t want to make a statement about this part.”
“Are you serious?”
“Completely.”
I laughed. “That’s unacceptable, Lola. How am I supposed to solve the case if everyone’s hiding something?”
“We’re done here.” Lola stood up.
“Fine. I’ll get Sherriff Fagan and Gabriel, and they can talk to the two of you. They can probably explain ‘obstruction of justice’ better than I do anyway.” I retrieved my cell phone and quickly read a text from Gabriel saying he was back at the police station. I asked if he’d pick me up, then pretended to dial.
“I’ll tell her, Mom. It’s fine.”
“No,” she said, hands on her hips.
“What are you so afraid of? That I’ll put it in the book? I promise I’ll only put the pertinent information in the book. If this is unrelated to the murders, I’ll leave it out.”
Lola spun the bracelet on her wrist fitfully. “There may be mention of illegal activity.”
“What sort of activity?”
Lola glared at me with her jaw set.
“I’m a dealer,” Alfie said.
Lola’s eyes widened. “Shut up, Alfie.”
“No, I want to do this. If it helps catch Mary’s killer, I want to do it. I should’ve come forward from the start. I don’t care what happens to me.”
Lola closed her eyes, then sat back down and motioned for him to continue.
“Nothing heavy, mostly just pot and prescription drugs, but I’m quitting. I swear.” His face looked earnest, but the cynical part of me had doubts. “I knew Nikki and Lakota well in that sense. After you visited me and they were killed, I realized I was connected to all three of them, and who’d believe a dealer’s word? Even if you didn’t put it together, Fagan would’ve—he’s not a complete idiot. So I got the hell out of town.”
I considered telling Alfie we already knew he was a dealer, but thought it would just distract him. “Do you think the killer could be connected to you in some way, too?”
He shook his head. “Mary had nothing to do with my business. I don’t think she even knew about it. If it was just the drugs connecting everyone, she would’ve been safe.”
“Did Lakota mention that night to you at all?”
He frowned. “She stopped calling me after that party. I figured she was pissed I kicked her out, but then I heard she got into meth. Last time I saw her, I barely recognized her.”
“Was she friends with Nikki?”
“I don’t think so, but I really don’t know. Does any of this help?”
I smiled a little. “Not really. Were you with Nikki the night she died?”
Alfie sighed. “I was supposed to meet her, but someone else was already in the alley with her, and they seemed to be fighting. I got the hell out of there and stopped at the first payphone—not easy to find nowadays—and called the police.”
“You were the anonymous tip?”
He nodded. “I’m sorry. I wish I knew more.”
“Think really hard. Can you tell me anything about what the killer looked like?
Alfie pressed his lips together and stared off into space. “No. As soon as I heard the commotion I ran and didn’t see him clearly.”
“What about the night Mary died? Did you notice anything out of the ordinary then?”
He shook his head.
I stood up, disappointed. Alfie filled some holes, but I wasn’t any closer to the killer. “I won’t say anything to Fagan about the drugs, but if you don’t quit, Mary, Lakota, and Nikki won’t be the only ones who died too young.”
I’d started for the door when his voice stopped me. “Wait—it’s probably nothing, but I just remembered something. The windmill.”
“The what?” I asked, my stomach tightening. This could be it. Gabriel was right. You could feel when a case broke.
“There was a light on in that barn, the one with a windmill, off of route 573. It struck me as weird, because we always thought the place was deserted. Kids dare each other to go out there. People say it’s haunted.”
“Alfie, thank you—I think you may have just been a big help.”
Gabriel was waiting in his car when I walked out front of the Laurie’s house. He told me about the latest discoveries at the farm as we drove back to the station. The old house farther back on the property contained more pools of dried blood, plus a metal chair with leather cuffs welded to its arms and legs. They also found another wood chipper behind the house, and Gabriel said I didn’t want to know what it looked like.
“It’s definitely where they were taken to be killed.”
“Were there tracks?”
“There may have been, but the snow’s been drifting so badly, we couldn’t make anything out.”
“And anyone could’ve used the farm?”
“Yeah, it wasn’t patrolled or anything. We’re going to stake it out and see if the killer comes back. We took the pictures and evidence ourselves, so word doesn’t get around that we know.”
“So this really could be over soon?”
“Hopefully.” He smiled. “You ready to fess up? Fagan’s expecting a full report.”
“Yeah.” I stifled a yawn. “Your news is more interesting, though. I finished Mary’s diary.”
“And?”
“And it’s sad. She felt so real.”
“She was real, El.”
“I know, it’s just…” I didn’t know what else to say, so I let the sentence fade into oblivion. I knew Mary was a real person, but I’d never met her, and if I didn’t think about it too hard, it was easy to treat the case like a book, her like a character. It was less disturbing if I wasn’t looking at real lives, real people, or dealing with real emotion. I couldn’t even pinpoint when I’d stopped thinking of Mary as an actual person. I’d done the same thing I accused Fagan of doing when he referred to her as the victim. I was a hypocrite.
“It’s easy to do,” Gabriel said gently.
Of course Gabriel would understand. “How do you stop it?”
He glanced over. “I don’t.”
As little as I like being emotionally involved with the living, breathing people I encountered, I could barely stand the thought of forgetting what was taken from Mary. However, I understood why Gabriel and Fagan would keep themselves separate from their cases. This wouldn’t be an easy or a fun job to have all of the time. “What was it like for you with Danny?”
Gabriel sighed. “It was a mystery, an impossible puzzle that I couldn’t walk away from—and there was you. Seeing you as much as I did kept things real for me.”
“Well, I don’t like it. I don’t want to forget who they were. They were all important to someone.”
Gabriel shook his head. “Have you realized you have more compassion for the dead than you do for the living?”
I looked out the window, away from him. His words hit a little too close to home.
****
I caught Fagan and Gabriel up on the Laurie situation and the diary. Fagan, as predicted, wasn’t happy having his time and resources wasted, and I didn’t blame him so I sat quietly as he ranted about how I should’ve told him right away.
Eventually, Gabriel changed the subject. “So where does this leave us? Alfie and Lola both have alibis. What about William? He was supposed to meet Mary the night she was killed, but she went to see Bryan instead of him. He also told you that he ended their relationship, but he hadn’t.”
“I think we should revisit Bryan. I never liked him, but after the murder I couldn’t find any evidence connecting him to the crime,” Fagan said.
“I don’t think William or Bryan did it. I can’t really explain why, but it doesn’t feel right to me. We need new suspects. I think the location is key. We should find out what happened to that farmer’s family.”
“It’s an urban legend by now and has nothing to do with this,” Fagan said.
Gabriel frowned. “What makes you think it’s connected, El?”
“Someone knew enough about the property to use the house that you can’t see from the road and not the barn. His wife’s probably dead by now, or at least too old to kill anyone, but the kid wouldn’t be—and that’s a serial killer family history if I ever heard one. I think it’s worth looking into.”
Fagan’s mouth twisted in an annoyed manner. “I don’t have time to deal with kids’ campfire stories right now.” He went out and grabbed Jeffries, spoke quietly to him, then stuck his head back in the office. “I’m going to see Alfie and Lola, then William—you want to come?”
Gabriel looked at me, and I shook my head.
“Okay.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll pick you up at 7:00 p.m. at the bed and breakfast for the gala. Gabriel, you’re taking the first stake out at the house tonight, right?”
“We’re still going to that? Haven’t I done enough for one day?”
“The case isn’t solved yet.”
Gabriel nodded and I said, “
Fine
.”
****
Martha hugged me as I walked into the living room. “I’ve missed you, dear.”
I patted her back awkwardly. Then Gabriel’s comment about me being more compassionate to dead people fluttered through my mind, so I made an effort. “I’ve missed you too.”
She pulled back. “Did you?”
Crap, I was never good at platitudes. “Of course.”
She looked at Gabriel. “Will you be staying too?”
“No, I’ll head back to Montgomery a little later.”
She smiled widely and took me by the arm. “Come have some tea and cookies and tell me everything.”
Gabriel trailed behind, looking like he would’ve rather gone with Fagan. “How long have you lived here, Martha?” he asked.
“Oh, well, let’s see… My late husband and I bought the house in 1987.”
“So you don’t remember the Bede murder?” he asked.
“The Bede murder?” She looked back at him with a frown. “Can’t say that I—wait, you mean that old farm on Route 573? Goodness, I don’t think I ever knew their name. I’ve heard stories, of course, but I don’t remember anything about when it happened. I would’ve been a little girl, and news didn’t travel quite so fast then. Why do you ask?”