Dark Passing (The Ella Reynolds Series) (10 page)

Fagan motioned me into his office. “I doubted I’d see you today.”

Impatience made my cheek twitch. Last night hadn’t taken Fagan off of the suspect list. The body was next to the woods where he happened to be parked. And where was he before I called him? It was true that if he was the killer, he had opportunities to dispatch of me, but killing me would be more high profile than the girl from the café. I frowned as I stared at him, then cleared my throat. “Do you want a statement?”

A ghost of a smile played at his lips. “Not necessary. You were wearing a wire, and we have you on surveillance in the police station. Your alibi couldn’t be better.”

“Then I guess I’ll get to work.”

“Just a second. Does the name Lakota Heller ring a bell?”

“Should it?”

“That’s the name of the victim.”

“Do you have pic—” He held up what looked like a yearbook photo of a girl before I could finish. I stepped nearer his desk and snatched it out of his hand so I could get a closer look. Take away about fifteen pounds, add dirty hair and a few years of a hard life, and it could definitely be the girl from the café. “That’s her.”

“Your witness. Are you certain?”

I nodded.

I could see the wheels turning in Fagan’s head, but he didn’t share. He dismissed me, taking back the picture and waving me away. I hesitated, wanting to press him for more information, but I wasn’t sure I could do so without letting him on to my line of thinking.

“I’ll pick you up at 8:00 p.m. tonight. Black tie.” His smug tone begged to be put in its place.

I pretended I didn’t hear him and walked back to the interview room. Tonight might very well be a form of cruel and unusual punishment, but it would give me an opportunity to ask more about Lakota—silver linings and all that. My phone vibrated and an unfamiliar number popped up on the screen. I considered voicemail, but finally answered.

“Hello?”

“You the writer?” said what sounded like a young man with a somewhat high voice and a general apathy.

“Maybe. Who’s this?”

I could almost hear the eye roll before the guy responded. “Dad told me to call this number and give a quote about Mary Nelson. Is this the right number?”

“You must be Alfie.”

“In the flesh.” He made no effort to hide his boredom. “Mary was a swell girl, and it’s a shame she got herself killed. Does that work for you?”

I was stunned into silence. Did he really just mock the dead girl? I flipped open my notebook and wrote Alfie Laurie on my suspect page. I could practically hear Gabriel’s voice in my head,
Ella, suspects aren’t just the people you don’t like
, but he had his way and I had my way.

“Are we done?” he asked in an overly chipper voice.

“Not even remotely. We need to meet in person. I have some slightly more in-depth questions.”

“Whatever. I’ll be around. Come to the frat house. Wear something”—he made two clicks with his tongue—“nice.” He spun the last word with a suggestive tone. Then laughter erupted from what sounded like multiple people in the background, and he hung up.

Fagan and this clown in the same day?
“And people wonder why I’m a hermit,” I muttered aloud.

“Who called?” Fagan’s voice came from the other side of the room.

 “None of your business. Don’t you have a murder to solve?” I glanced down at my watch. “Tick tock, sheriff.”

His jaw set at a hard, displeased angle, and I clamped down on my tongue with my teeth to prevent spewing any more bitchiness. I needed him to believe I wasn’t the enemy. I swallowed my pride and forced what I hoped was a pleasant expression. “Sorry. Just one of Mary’s friends who left plenty to be desired.”

“Which friend?” He watched me carefully as if trying to discern my ticks and tells.

“Alfie Laurie.”

A puzzled expression crossed his face and he scratched his arm. “The representative’s son?”

I nodded.

He took a deep breath. “You’re determined to make my life hard, aren’t you?” I shrugged. “What makes you think Alfie and Mary were friends?”

“What makes you think they weren’t?”

The shock melted away and Fagan the politician was back full force. “Alfie and Mary weren’t exactly in the same social circles. I think you ought to check your facts, Ms. Reynolds, before you ruffle the wrong feathers.”

“I’ll take that under advisement.”

“See that you do.”

“What do you know about Alfie? His father mentioned he’d been in some trouble.”

Fagan pressed his lips together. “Alfie has a knack for trouble that boarding school doesn’t seem to have helped. Tread lightly. The Laurie’s are a big deal in this town.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know which fraternity Alfie’s in, would you?” I ignored his comment. I wasn’t scared of the Laurie’s.

“Same one I was.” He rattled off a string of Greek letters that meant nothing to me, then turned to leave. “8:00 p.m.,” he said over his shoulder.

I collected my purse and left to track down Alfie when I realized my mistake. Meeting Alfie in person was fine… for someone who could drive. Smithton was 30 miles from here. I headed toward the bus station on Wabash with my hands jammed in my pockets and my face ducked down beneath the collar of my coat, cursing myself for never taking the time to learn something so basic. Smithton was home of Smithton College, a pricey, private university that used to be an all-girls school, but had opened its enrollment to both sexes in the last 15 years. It was the sort of place where students brought their horses with them, to be stabled in private heated stables, of course, because they couldn’t bear to part with them. Most of the students at Smithton had probably attended the same boarding schools and finishing schools growing up. Having seen Jennifer’s home, I could only imagine how out of place Mary must have felt there. It was somewhat amazing she’d made so many friends and so quickly. However, it wasn’t surprising at all that she wanted to move out of Jackson. It was the only way to fit in with the life she must’ve wanted. However, the mental image of a social climbing 19-year-old didn’t really fit with the story the people in Jackson told of her. Which Mary was the real Mary?

At the small station, I was informed the next bus for Smithton didn’t leave for two hours and there wasn’t a return bus later in the afternoon. I sighed, but bought the ticket. Smithton was larger than Jackson, and I could get a cab from there to my house in Montgomery where I needed to go to find something to wear tonight. I went to a deli across the street that promised free Wi-Fi and ordered a sandwich before firing up my computer. I Googled Alfie Laurie on the off chance I could find something to give me insight into the kid. I had a couple hits in arrest columns in nearby area newspapers. One for indecent exposure, one for driving under the influence, and one that seemed more serious—possession. I now understood why Fagan was shocked that Alfie and Mary were friends. The two couldn’t have been more opposite on paper.

I glanced down at my clock. It was almost time to catch my bus. My phone buzzed and I answered.

“Bryan said you were looking for me,” a nasally voice said.

“Nikki?”

“Yeah. You want to talk about Mary?”

“I do, but I’m on my way to Smithton. Would you be available to talk tomorrow?”

“Are you doing this for Jennifer?”

“I am.”

“I can’t tomorrow.”

I looked at the bus pulling in and weighed my options. I really wanted to talk to Nikki, and I didn’t have to struggle with public transportation to do it, but I suspected her college life was going to open an entirely new side to Mary.

“Hello?” Nikki said with too much attitude.

“Fine. When and where do you want to meet?”

“Where are you staying?”

“The Darcey Inn.”

“That old bitch hates me. Not there. How about the bridge?”

“Is that a restaurant?”

“No. It’s a bridge.”

“Is there only one?” I was lost as to what she was talking about. I apparently didn’t speak 19-year-old.

She huffed impatiently. “It’s the big one. You came here from Montgomery, right? You crossed it coming into town.”

I could see the bridge in question from where I stood. “Why the bridge?”

“It’s private. Mary and I used to hang out there sometimes just to get away from everyone.”

“What time?”

“Now’s good.”

“I’ll head over.”

We hung up and I called Alfie back on my way. He wasn’t exactly broken up that I wasn’t coming to see him, though I warned him I’d be by tomorrow, to which he replied, “Whatever.”

It only took a couple minutes to get to the bridge. The muddy, icy brown water rushed below and the wind cut through my coat. I hunched my shoulders and pulled my arms in tight. A few excruciating minutes later, a little blue truck pulled up and a young woman rolled down her window.

“Where’s your car?” she called out.

“I don’t have one,” I yelled back.

She beckoned me forward and leaned across the seat to unlock the passenger door. I climbed in with stiff limbs, rubbing my hands together.

“You should’ve said you didn’t have a car. I would’ve picked you up.”

The girl was familiar from the pictures in Mary’s room. Her hair was too blonde and its tips had been dipped in a lavender hair color and her skin was pale. She was on the shorter side and of an average build. Her moon-shaped face turned toward me and the thin slits of her eyes creased more as she smiled.

“Mary would wig out that I’m talking to you. She tried to talk me into driving her to Montgomery.” She laughed and turned bright red. “Probably shouldn’t have told you that. But it wasn’t anything creepy, I swear. She was just a really big fan.”

I crossed my legs and waved off the comment. “That’s why her mom came to me.”

Nikki nodded, her eyes turning glassy.

“How long did you know her?”

“My whole life.”

“What was Mary like?”

Her eyebrows pulled together a little. “I don’t know, just normal, you know. She was a goody-goody, but still fun. She wasn’t really into parties or anything like that. She had Bryan, but it wasn’t going to last. Everyone knew that, but Bryan. She was going to get out of this town.”

“Was she?”

“Definitely. I didn’t mind. I was happy for her. She was so excited about her scholarship to Smithton. She had a plan—I should’ve known it was stupid; no one gets out of Jackson—but she had it since we were kids, and everything was falling into place for her. Her time here was almost up.” Nikki shrugged. “But as I said, no one gets out of Jackson.”

“What was the plan?”

“It all hinged on her getting a scholarship because Smithton is a really good school—the kind that ‘opens doors’ she always said. Her plan was to major in English and start writing now. She had an internship lined up for the summer at the newspaper in Smithton. She wanted to be an editor and move to New York.”

I smiled. “Where did Bryan fit into this?”

Nikki made a noise. “He didn’t. She was just too nice to leave him. But he started to get it when she started spending so much time in Smithton. She hardly spent any time here at all.”

“So you weren’t seeing much of her either?”

“Not too much. We still talked on the phone and stuff, but it wasn’t like it used to be. I think she had another guy there, but she wouldn’t admit it. Any time I brought it up, she suddenly had to go.”

“Do you know who her new friends were?”

“I’m not sure. Alfie Laurie’s the one who introduced her to everybody, since he’s from here and all—even if he didn’t go to our school. They were the only two people from Jackson going to Smithton.”

“Hmmm.”

“Have you looked in her diary?”

I started. “What diary?”

“You haven’t seen it? Maybe the police have it. Mary always had it with her. I’m sure she wrote about her college friends.”

“Did you ever see it?”

“No, she wouldn’t let anyone look at it.”

“If she always had a diary, do you know where she kept the old ones?”

“Burned them. It was like a ritual. January 1
^st
every year she burned the past year’s diary and started a new one.” She shrugged. “If the police don’t have it, maybe her mom does.”

Or maybe it burned in the car. Damn it.
“What do you think happened to Mary?”

“Nothing good.” She grimaced. “I really don’t know.”

“Did she have anyone who didn’t like her or wanted to hurt her?”

“Not at all. Everyone liked Mary. I was the bitch; Mary was nice.”

“Well, thank you for talking today.”

“No problem. Do you want me to drop you off at Darcey’s?”

“Is it out of your way?”

She started the truck. “Don’t worry about it.”

We rode in awkward silence until I forced myself to make small talk. “So where’s a good place to buy clothes here?”

She gave me a quick onceover. “What kind of clothes?”

“Something nice for a party.”

“Best we have is the mall.” She pulled to a stop in front of the bed and breakfast.

“Works for me. Thanks for the ride.”

“You haven’t seen what we call a mall yet.” She laughed and waved as she drove away.

The theory that Mary was leading a double life was only strengthened by speaking with Nikki. She was one way here and another in Smithton. Since Alfie knew her in both worlds, I hoped he’d shed some light on things. And as much as I didn’t believe it was him, I mentally added Bryan to my suspect list. If Nikki was right and Mary was seeing someone else, the scorned lover couldn’t be ignored.