Chapter 30
Hayley finished her column around 7:30
P.M.
and e-mailed it to the office. She poured herself a glass of red wine and relaxed on the sofa with Leroy, who snuggled in her lap. She closed her eyes, trying to forget all the drama of the last week. Sunday night would be Wade’s last concert and then the crew would pack up and move on Monday morning.
Whether Mickey Pritchett’s murder was solved or not.
She sipped some wine.
She felt a crick in her neck.
Undoubtedly from Jesse DeSoto trying to squeeze the air out of it.
She rubbed the sore spot.
Let out a deep breath.
She had read that breathing exercises and meditation were healthy for you, but who had the time with a full-time job and looking after two demanding teenagers?
Not to mention chasing after clues in a murder investigation.
It was unusually quiet in the house.
Especially for a Saturday night.
A text from Gemma explained her absence.
Out with Reid.
No surprise there.
Dustin was home and in his room, but there was no blaring noise from the television nor the annoying sounds of sonic rings, or creepy piano music, or fireball explosions from his wide array of video games.
There was no noise at all.
And that was a bit worrisome.
Hayley gently moved Leroy’s head off her lap and lowered it onto a throw pillow. She stood up, set her glass of wine down, and headed up the stairs.
She saw a light coming from under Dustin’s bedroom door.
She knew there was zero chance he was doing homework on a Saturday night. Hayley cautiously approached the door and pushed it open, the hinges squeaking. Dustin was on his bed texting on a cell phone. His eyes bulged open at the sight of his mother and he instinctively stuffed the phone underneath his pillow.
“If you ever want to raise a red flag, that’s definitely the way to do it,” Hayley said, arching an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” Dustin said, shrugging.
“Who are you texting?”
“Nobody. Just a friend.”
“Which is it? Nobody, or a friend?”
Dustin was sweating.
And it was forty degrees outside.
Gemma was much more adept at covering her tracks when she was up to no good.
Hayley entered the room and thrust out her hand. “Give me the phone.”
“Mom! Come on. I’m just chatting with Spanky.”
“Spanky McFarland?”
“Yeah, it’s no big deal.”
“Then why did you hide the phone underneath your pillow when I came into your room?”
“Spanky was just telling me some private stuff and I promised not to tell anyone.”
“What kind of stuff?” Hayley wanted to know.
“Nothing!”
Hayley marched over to the bed and rummaged underneath the pillow.
Dustin sat up in his bed. “Mom! No! Spanky’s going to think I ratted him out.”
“You didn’t tell me anything. It’s not your fault I just happened to find your phone and read your conversation while cleaning this pigsty of a room.”
Hayley scrolled up the long series of word bubbles on Dustin’s screen until she saw a mention of a gun.
“A gun?” Hayley asked, eyeing Dustin curiously. “A real one?”
“It’s not his!” Dustin said, huffing and puffing to show his annoyance.
“Where did he get it?”
“He and his brother found it while kayaking over to Bar Island. It was just lying there on the beach covered in seaweed.”
Hayley shoved the phone at Dustin. “Ask him if it’s a forty-five handgun.”
Dustin sighed. “Okay. Okay.”
He used his thumbs to text Spanky.
Hayley marveled at how fast kids could type on their phones.
It took her two minutes just to text the word hello.
Dustin waited.
Then there was a ping indicating Spanky’s response.
“Yeah, it’s a forty-five.”
It had to be the murder weapon that killed Mickey Pritchett.
The killer probably tossed it in the ocean after shooting Mickey and setting fire to the tour bus. The gun could have conceivably washed up with the tide on Bar Island, a small privately owned island located directly across the bay from the town pier. One could actually walk over to it during low tide.
She had to call Sergio.
This could break the case wide open.
Hayley did an about-face to the door and was scurrying out when Dustin pleaded, “Mom, you can’t say anything! I gave Spanky my word!”
She stopped and turned back around. “I have to tell Uncle Sergio. This could be a crucial piece of evidence in his murder case.”
“Spanky said not to tell
you
especially, since you have a habit of sticking your nose in everybody’s business,” Dustin said.
Okay.
Spanky was right.
The little brat.
But Hayley knew she couldn’t keep a lid on something like this. Sergio had to know.
“Maybe there’s a way I can let Uncle Sergio know without him realizing it’s coming from me,” Hayley said.
“You mean an anonymous tip?” Dustin asked.
“Yes.”
Dustin rolled his eyes. “He’s going to know it’s you.”
“Not if I’m playing a character. I did a couple of plays in high school. I know how to act.”
“You played a Shark in
West Side Story
. With no lines. Remember? You made us watch the video.”
“He won’t know it’s me.”
Hayley marched out of Dustin’s room and back down the stairs.
She picked up the phone in the kitchen, took a long, deep breath, and called Sergio at home.
She expected Randy to pick up and was surprised when she heard Sergio’s thick Brazilian accent instead.
“Yes. This is Sergio.”
Hayley had not taken much time to perfect her character, but she attempted a Swedish accent only because she had given some college-age Swedish tourists on mountain bikes directions to Cadillac Mountain recently and they were fresh in her mind.
“I have some information regarding the Mickey Pritchett murder,” Hayley said, her Swedish accent coming across more like Russian.
Where was that glass of wine?
“I am sorry. I do not understand you,” Sergio said, puzzled.
“I know where you can find the gun that killed Mickey Pritchett,” Hayley said, now doing a dead-on Count Chocula impression.
“Hayley, is that you?” Sergio asked.
Dustin was right.
Smart kid.
Damn.
“Why do you sound so funny?” Sergio asked.
“Look who’s talking,” was all Hayley could think of to say.
“Did you say somebody killed Ricky Martin?”
“Mickey Pritchett! I know where you can find the gun!”
There was a long pause.
Sergio was probably grabbing a piece of paper and a pen. “Okay, talk.”
Hayley told him everything. And she asked Sergio not to reveal the source of his information when he showed up at Spanky McFarland’s front door. But she knew the kid would probably put two and two together and blame Dustin. It was a risk she had to take. There was a killer on the loose and she was determined to keep her own family safe.
Sergio promised to call her back once he picked up the gun from Spanky and ran a search on the registration.
After apologizing to Dustin for forcing him to breach his friend’s trust, Hayley waited by the phone in her bedroom for Sergio to call back.
Time ticked by.
She watched a mindless action movie starring Jason Statham on cable. She had a crush on the rugged English bloke with the shaved head and the sexy bad attitude.
She checked the clock.
8:30
P.M.
Still no call.
Leroy found her and jumped up on the bed with her and she pulled her white down comforter up to her chest and hugged a pillow and closed her eyes. She had drifted off to sleep when the ringing of the phone suddenly snapped her awake.
The clock read 9:38
P.M.
She scooped up the receiver. “Sergio?”
“Yes,” he said in a monotone voice.
“So who is the gun registered to?”
“Ned Weston.”
The name barely registered at first, it was so unexpected.
Ned Weston.
The father of Carrie Weston.
Gemma’s best friend.
Hayley immediately updated Sergio on Carrie’s run-in with Mickey Pritchett. Ned had probably found out about it and decided to take action on behalf of his daughter, to protect her from Mickey’s slimy advances.
“I’m heading over there in a few minutes,” Sergio said. “I’ll call you in the morning with an update.”
Hayley was in a daze.
She crawled out of bed and went into the hallway.
Dustin was still up and watching the end of the same Jason Statham movie on his TV. Gemma’s room was dark.
“Did your sister tell you when she would be home?”
Dustin propped his head up with his hand, elbow on his pillow. “Reid dropped her off hours ago, before you even got home.”
“Well, where is she?”
“She went over to spend the night at Carrie’s house.”
Hayley’s heart stopped.
“She left you a note,” Dustin said, yawning.
“The only note I got was a text message telling me she was going out with Reid.”
“That was from this afternoon. You didn’t see a newer note?”
“No!”
“Oh, wait. She asked me to tell you. I forgot. Sorry.”
Hayley started shaking.
“What’s the matter, Mom?”
Hayley threw on some tennis shoes, grabbed her car keys, dashed down the stairs, and ran out the door.
The only thought in her mind was that at this moment her daughter was inside the house of a possible killer.
Chapter 31
Hayley banged on the door of the Weston house, desperately trying to stay calm.
The porch light flicked on, and the door swung open.
Ned Weston stood in the doorway in a red-and-black plaid shirt, blue jeans, and an annoyed look on his face. He lowered his reading glasses and gripped the newspaper in his fist.
“What are you doing here? It’s almost ten o’clock at night!”
“I need to speak with my daughter. It’s important.”
“Couldn’t you have just called?”
“Now, Ned,” Hayley barked.
Ned rolled his eyes and stepped back inside, calling upstairs, “Gemma! Your mother’s here! She wants to talk to you!”
Hayley could hear music playing upstairs.
She recognized the tune.
Some British songstress barely old enough to vote.
Adele.
Ned yelled again. “Gemma!”
“She obviously can’t hear you because the music’s too loud. Let me go get her,” Hayley said, pushing her way into the house.
Ned blocked her path. “You can’t just come into my house uninvited.”
Hayley exhaled a breath and stepped back outside. “Fine, Ned. Just get my daughter for me and I’ll leave.”
Ned gave her a curious look. “Why are you acting so strange?”
Hayley was tapping her foot nervously.
She ignored the question.
“I’ll go get her,” Ned said, eyeing Hayley suspiciously and then pounding up the stairs.
Hayley glanced around.
Everything appeared normal as far as she could see.
After a few moments, Gemma hurried down the stairs, Carrie and Ned on her heels, and stared at her mother, perplexed.
“What’s going on? Why are you here?”
“I need you to come home with me,” Hayley said evenly.
“Why?”
“I don’t want the third degree. I just want you to come with me right now.”
“Is something wrong, Mrs. Powell?” Carrie asked in a soft voice.
“No, Carrie. Everything’s fine.”
“Then I don’t understand why I have to leave,” Gemma said, anger rising in her voice.
Hayley took Gemma by the arm and squeezed tight. It was her usual signal that she was in no mood to argue and there would be painful consequences if Gemma did not start cooperating immediately.
Gemma shrugged and turned to Carrie. “I’ll call you when I get home.”
“Carrie, why don’t you walk us out?” Hayley asked as casually as she could.
“No, Carrie, I want you to stay here,” Ned said, shifting uncomfortably, trying to figure out what was going on here.
“Dad, I’m just going to walk them to the car. You can see me the whole time from here, okay?”
Ned didn’t want to appear too controlling so he nodded, his eyes fixed on Hayley like a laser, his mind racing.
“Let me just go get my stuff,” Gemma said, turning to go back upstairs, but Hayley squeezed her arm tighter.
“We can pick it up tomorrow,” Hayley said, forcefully pulling her daughter outside and toward the car.
Carrie followed them.
They were halfway across the street when, out the corner of her eye, Hayley spotted Sergio’s police cruiser rounding the corner and heading down the street toward the Weston house, the blue lights flashing.
She picked up the pace, dragging Gemma alongside her. Carrie was still a few feet behind them, oblivious to the approaching cop car.
Hayley fished in her coat pocket for her car keys and remotely unlocked the doors of the Subaru.
She glanced back. Ned Weston’s tall frame was still filling the doorway. Even in the dark from across the street, she could see his angry eyes glaring at her.
The blue lights from the cruiser washed over Ned’s face and he suddenly snapped to attention and jerked his head around to see the approaching police car.
Hayley was distracted by Carrie, who was tugging on her coat sleeve. “Mrs. Powell, what’s happening?”
Carrie had noticed the cruiser.
Now, so did Gemma.
Hayley didn’t know what to say.
“Mom . . . ?” Gemma asked, her voice trailing off.
The police cruiser stopped in front of the house and Sergio, accompanied by Officer Donnie, stepped out of the vehicle.
Hayley glanced back to the front door of the Weston house.
Ned was gone.
“What are the police doing here?” Carrie wanted to know.
“They want to speak to your father,” Hayley said quietly.
“My father? About what?”
Hayley couldn’t bring herself to answer.
Sergio and Donnie were now on the front stoop, looking around, wondering why the front door was left wide open. Sergio turned around to see Hayley and the two girls standing by Hayley’s white Subaru wagon. He raised an eyebrow, surprised to see her here.
“Hayley?” Sergio asked.
“I just came by to pick up Gemma and take her home.”
Sergio nodded, understanding instantly. “Carrie, is your father home?”
“Yes. He must have gone back inside,” Carrie said.
“Mind if we go inside and have a talk with him?”
Carrie nodded, and Hayley put an arm around her, sensing how frightened she was, not knowing why the cops wanted to question her father.
Sergio and Donnie walked inside the house and began calling for Ned.
But Hayley knew they wouldn’t find him.
She knew Ned Weston would have run off into the night when he saw the cops in front of his house.
And it just made him look guiltier.
Hayley still had her arm around Carrie.
“Why are the police looking for Mr. Weston, Mom?” Gemma asked.
“I’ll explain when we get home. Carrie, why don’t you come stay at our house tonight?”
“No! I’m not going anywhere until Chief Alvares tells me what he thinks my father has done!”
Carrie broke away from Hayley and dashed back inside the house.
“Mom, we can’t just leave her,” Gemma pleaded.
Hayley felt vulnerable in the pitch-black night.
Ned Weston was on the loose.
He could be anywhere.
And her single thought was getting her daughter home safe.
“Gemma, in the car,” Hayley said.
Gemma got her mother’s tone immediately.
Without another word, she opened the passenger-side door and slid onto the seat.
Hayley got behind the wheel, and they pulled away in time to see Sergio talking to Carrie, who looked scared and alone.