Gabriel’s hand on hers tightened. “She is the only one missing in this area . . . the only one we know of.”
Grace tried to nod. One was too many, but more? She carefully straightened to see if the room was still spinning. “Tell me the name again. How old she was.”
“Ashley Dayton. She was six, Grace.”
She felt something burning in her heart, an ache so intense it was like an ember bursting into flame. She knew what a six-year-old child looked like, and it didn’t take a leap to guess that Ashley was blue-eyed and blond. “I’m okay, Gabriel,” she said. Seeing his worried expression somehow forced a steadiness back into her voice. “Are her parents from around here?” she asked.
“They live in Florida. I’ll be talking with them tonight, and expect them to fly into town tomorrow.”
She needed to stand up, to pace the room. She leaned forward to rise, caught Rachel’s gaze, the tension telling her what she must look like. She stayed seated. She couldn’t think. “What do you need from me?”
Gabriel gave a slight smile as he rubbed her hand. “You’ll do, Grace. Listen to Josh, my folks, Ann. We’re going to keep the media away from you.”
She tried to moisten her lips. “You’ll have to tell people, the press.”
“Let us speak for you regarding all this. We’ve got some thoughts on how to do it. Those woods are known to many in the community, and we can keep you out of the spotlight for now.”
She was intensely grateful. “What about my parents?”
He shook his head. “We don’t know. Josh will be back on his search in a day or two. I promise you, if your parents are out there, we will do everything we can to find them before the weather closes the door. But I need you to stay put while the press is around.”
“I can do that.”
“Any questions you have for me at this point?”
She really couldn’t think. She tried, shook her head, but stopped quickly when the room started to whirl again.
“I’ll be around if you need to see me—just let Josh know. If you want to return to Chicago while this plays out, Rachel and Ann are your traveling companions. They can make that happen for you.”
“I’ll be all right here.” She took a deep breath. “I will.”
He nodded. “Then I’ll head out.” He released her hand.
“Ann, have you and Paul eaten?” Rachel asked, rising from her seat. “Let’s get some dinner on the table. Josh has got a pizza in the oven, and there’s potato soup simmering on the stove.” Grace smiled her thanks at Rachel for diverting the moment. She gratefully watched the others leave the room with Gabriel.
She felt as if she’d taken a punch, followed by a shot of Novocain to deaden any feeling. Her body didn’t feel like her own. She felt the couch beside her shift. A mug was tucked into her hands. Josh. Of course, Josh.
“I’ll be okay,” she repeated, pushing aside the tea. “I just got a little light-headed.”
“You went sheet-white and were about to hit the deck,” he countered and pushed the tea back into her hands.
She wrapped both hands around the mug. “It’s not like I didn’t know something more was going on, even if I was mostly hiding behind the decision not to know the details. I’ve heard Ann and Evie talking about the two cases they hoped to resolve. Even I can put together the description of Ashley Dayton and the odds that my . . . that he was involved. Not wanting to face it isn’t the same as being blind to the possibility.”
“You shouldn’t have been out there during the search, Grace. It’s hard enough on someone who isn’t tied—”
“My parents are out there, Josh,” she interrupted. “I’m certain of that.” She closed her eyes and let herself say something she hadn’t told even Rachel. “Until I have that closure, I’m left with this awful hole inside that whispers to me: ‘They didn’t love you. They left you behind with that monster. That’s how much your parents cared about you.’ It isn’t true, I know that now, but my childhood was lived with that running around in my mind. I need to prove that it’s false, if it can be proven. I need that, Josh.”
Josh sighed, and his hand covered hers as his brother’s had. “Then we will find out, Grace. However we have to tear apart that property, we will find out if they are there.”
She realized when he handed her a tissue that she’d begun to cry again. The tears had become so common lately, she didn’t even realize it most of the time. “Thank you,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “I’d like a funeral for my parents. Then I want to get back to Chicago and resume my life. I want to lay to rest these ghosts, so the past won’t keep dragging me down.”
“We’ll have that funeral one way or another. And I’ll get you safely back home,” Josh promised. “Come eat something, Grace. If you’re here another week, I’d like you not to blow away on me.”
She forced a smile she didn’t feel and sipped at the sweetened tea. She rose slowly, found her balance again. “I might try some of your soup.”
“I make great soup,” he said immediately, and she was able to laugh.
Oh, she needed this old friend, and the way Josh went out of his way to make her laugh was like he’d done years ago, getting her to smile as if that was the reward he was after when he kept her company. He’d been a friend she had shared the good moments of her childhood with, and she couldn’t put into words how valuable that was to her now. Something from the past was good, she silently reminded herself.
She let Josh guide her toward the kitchen and didn’t resist when an old sweatshirt of his dropped around her shoulders. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be warm again.
THIRTEEN
Evie Blackwell
A radio station’s upbeat music filled the room. Evie knew it didn’t compensate for her sadness, but it gave her some distraction while she worked. She was deconstructing the crime wall for Ashley Dayton, taking pieces down one at a time, putting the case to rest once more in its boxes. The only thing left to do for Ashley was to add the final report on her remains.
“Want some help?”
She looked over as Ann walked in. “Sure.”
“Caleb is escorting the Dayton family out to the farm,” Ann said. “The medical examiner is going to release the remains for burial in Chicago. Ashley Dayton died of a blow to the head. The answers to other questions her parents have are unfortunately lost to history.”
That the medical examiner had put in overtime to complete the autopsy was what Evie would expect in a case like this. The week was ending as she thought it might, with the case itself as closed as they could make it, given the years that had passed.
“The media is camped out at the Fast Café, so Karen is taking a few days off,” Ann continued. “I think Will has her helping him tear out drywall or some such demolition project.”
Evie smiled. “I’ve been meaning to go pick up my dogs the last two days, and I keep getting interrupted.”
“Will would’ve let you know if they’re in the way. I’d say they’re enjoying their stay in the country, and his own two appreciate the company.” Ann helped her box photographs. “Do you want to suspend this, Evie? Take the last week of your vacation as a true holiday somewhere? Go sit on a beach, find some movies, read a book? No one would blame you. You’ve made significant progress on the Florist case, and it will still be here in January when the task force officially launches. You can come back and work it then—on more than vacation pay,” she added with a smile.
Evie had been considering just that, but didn’t answer. She took down the large pieces of paper from the wall, stacked them, rolled them tightly, and secured it with rubber bands. “Is Grace going to stick around or go to Chicago with you tonight?” she asked instead.
“Josh goes back to searching the farm tomorrow, so she’s planning to stay a few more days. At Marie’s invitation, Paul and I are coming down for Thanksgiving and returning home that night. Grace will probably return to Chicago with us then. I want a few minutes with Gabriel once things ha
ve settled down around here.”
“That would be helpful.” Other than in passing, Evie hadn’t seen Gabriel since Friday night. The number of people needing a slice of his time right now would fill a phone book. She glanced over at the other wall, at the Florist case, made a decision.
“I think I’ll stay on the Florist case. I don’t need to report back to work until December first. I can give it this final week. I want to know, Ann, if it can be solved, if I can solve it. It’s not my usual ambition in play here—more a need to have that basic question answered. I think the town needs it after all this turmoil.”
“The new IDs go anywhere?” Ann asked. Caleb had narrowed things down to a forger now in federal prison, and Paul had managed to get information from him in exchange for some considerations on the man’s prison-work detail.
“Nothing so far,” Evie answered. “Paul’s been running the three names through the national databases for me, and I also sent them over to a state researcher. If the FBI can’t lock in on the names, they probably weren’t used. The fact the new IDs exist tells us the Florist family planned to leave if it became necessary. If they were never used, that will confirm they were likely murdered that night.”
“Which goes back to the possible motive for the murders—the large amount of money the Florist family had with them,” Ann said. “Do you want to take another look at the doctor?”
“He’s on my list.” Evie perched on one of the tables, noted that Gabriel hadn’t been by with a new sweet-tarts roll, had to settle for a piece of hard candy from a bowl on the table. “I think I might take the case back to the beginning, start over, see what might show up if I clear the slate.”
Ann paused. “That’s got merit, Evie. The Florist case has gone so many directions, it’s like a spider web that has collapsed and is just a sticky mess now.”
“That’s exactly what it feels like,” Evie agreed. “We know who Ashley Dayton’s killer was, whether or not it can ever be proven. The search to find Grace’s parents will go where it’s going to go. But the Florist case I can still maybe move to the next step. I’m just not sure what we accomplished on it this last week. We know more, we’re inside the dynamics of the family for the first time, but I’m not sure we’ve really changed what we know about the crime.”
Ann nodded. “Then start over, Evie. That gut instinct is probably telling you something important. Use this bare wall to take it apart again.”
“Yeah.” She could fill it once more with blank sheets, begin again on the Florist case. “Ann, do you think being a cop is a choice, or is it something God wires into a person? I’m spending what could be a vacation week to wade through a messy case again, and I honestly can’t say I mind the idea. I’m doing it by choice. That’s just weird when I think about it.”
Ann laughed, lowered the box she held onto the table. “I think you’re young, Evie, and part of what you enjoy about real-life puzzles is that satisfaction you feel at learning the ending. To have true justice, people need answers, so God gave you important work to do. If you weren’t a cop, you’d be curious about other mysteries. You’d be a good research chemist, a scientist, you’d find other puzzles to figure out. When the weight of this job gets to where you need to step away from the blood and violence, you’ll find a new avenue for solving things. That won’t ever leave you. But the impulse to solve crimes, that you can let go when it becomes necessary.”
“That’s one reason you retired, Ann? The amount of violence you had seen across your career?”
“It was a significant factor, yes. I shifted my interest in solving matters into writing, where I can both create the problem and figure out how to solve it. I’m breathing again, according to Paul. I still enjoy the occasional real-life puzzle, the cold cases Paul and I work together, but when something touches on the personal like this Dayton one did with Grace . . .” She shook her head, then added, “I used to be able to handle these moments better than I did today. I absorb the grief at a much deeper level now.”
“That’s not such a bad thing,” Evie replied. “I know I seem cold to Gabriel at times, with my curiosity and not much pain showing when I talk about a case. Looking at the photos on the walls, he sees people he knows, while I see strangers. I care about what happened to them, but more in the context of their place in the puzzle.”
“If you couldn’t retain that curiosity and equilibrium, you couldn’t solve the problem, Evie. The longer you two are friends, Gabriel will adjust to the fact you’ll always have a natural detachment about you. You see puzzles. He sees people. God wired you both as He intended. You’ve got a gift Gabriel doesn’t have. And he’s got connections you could never manage. Gabriel is knit into the people and fabric of this community. He’ll be buttonholed for conversations by hundreds of people during the next month. You would smother to death if even just five cops wanted to come help you work the Florist case. You need space, solitude, to think. Gabriel needs to take what happened with Grace and her uncle and figure out how to learn from it. There won’t be another child abused in Carin County if Gabriel can possibly figure out how to apply the lessons taken away from this case.”
Evie took a moment to absorb that. “I hadn’t thought about what Gabriel does next with all this. For me, the case is finished. It goes back in the box and I move on. But Gabriel’s job is to deal with the impact on the community, try to prevent another child from being hurt.”
“Different jobs, different roles. Gabriel’s job is to be watchful, aware of what’s going on, and protect the people who live here. You’re more wired to be a detective, to look closely at a case, solve it, and then move to the next one.”
Evie nodded, looked at Ann, and turned the conversation personal. “I’ve also been thinking if I stay here this week, stay here over Thanksgiving, that I can be sure Rob will wonder again about my priorities when I won’t even take a day off from the job for the holiday. He’s decided I’m pretty much a workaholic since I’m spending my vacation time doing this. He’s probably right. That’s a bad trait for a cop to develop, being that single-minded about work.”
Ann didn’t give her a quick answer, but instead perched herself on the table beside the box and studied her. “Evie, it’s possible that you use work and the time it demands to ensure you stay single. Not that you love work so much, but that you’re scared of what kind of life you might have if you built something outside of work, and failed at it. So rather than feel the stress of your potentially less-than-great personal life, you shift more hours over into work. Does that make sense?”
Evie considered that and sighed. “That’s just sad, Ann. That you can analyze me so easily.”
Ann smiled. “Enjoy the job, Evie. Don’t ever apologize for appreciating these puzzles and solving them. It’s important work—what you do matters. But when your ‘Paul’ starts nudging you to give him room in your life, be willing to let him have that slice of you. You may be less than deft at building a personal life by yourself, but you’d probably do fine building one with someone else. Rob might be that right guy for you. Or it may be someone even more ambitious than you about work—I think you’d make an interesting politician’s wife. But when it’s time, let yourself enjoy that next chapter.”
“Ann, I find it interesting that you are the most relaxed I ever see you when you’re with Paul.”
Ann’s smile grew wide. “I’ve noticed the same. I don’t have to think as much about life when I’m with him. We’re just doing life together, and he has things flowing in a nice direction.”
“Would you take this the right way when I say I envy you?” Evie remarked lightly.
“I’m glad you do. It means you don’t have your head in the sand about the decisions you need to make for your own life. It’s fine to decide you are comfortable with the present, Evie, to decide a future looking like today is something you’re content with. Just look at the options with your eyes open. That’s where wisdom comes from.”
“I’ll try and do that.”
>
“Paul and I will be back for Thanksgiving,” Ann told her again. “You may have the Florist case solved by then. If you do, that ice cream reward is still on the table.”
Evie grinned. “I’ll take you up on it. Pumpkin pie and ice cream suits me fine. And I never did get my flight overview of Carin County you promised. Maybe we can fit that in over Thanksgiving too.”
“I’d like that,” Ann said. “You’ll figure this out, Evie. The answer is here somewhere.”
Evie appreciated the support, both personally and professionally. “Tell Paul thanks for coming down this weekend.”
Ann nodded and headed out. Evie turned to consider the present Florist crime wall. She’d solve this case if she could, for her own sake and because it would help Gabriel to have it answered. He was having a miserable week, and figuring out what happened to the Florist family would be welcome news. She’d like to leave with that outcome behind her, rather than just pack up and go.
She locked the door behind Ann, picked up a root beer, and went to studying the board, then moved to the blank wall. It was time to go back to the beginning.
Evie propped her feet on a chair, idly eating pretzels, thinking about the Florist case, sorting how she wanted to approach it. A couple of dangling threads were worth pursuing.
She needed the list Gabriel had put together of the county’s violent residents. She’d like to look at those names with an eye for those with boys in their families. Joe Florist had a close call with Frank Ash. Two other boys had admitted being molested by Ash—three they could name, and no doubt there were others. A pool of people, both boys and adults, had reason to want Frank Ash gone. And most of them also didn’t like cops very much.
Interesting. Maybe the Frank Ash murder and the Florist family disappearance were connected, if she put her finger on the right family that harbored violence. She wrote the idea down at the top of a new pad of paper.