Don't Cry Over Killed Milk (21 page)

Diane Ridgeway threw her head back and laughed. “I thought you were acting a little strange. Sure, why not? I’ll go out with your friend.” She gave Damon her phone number and shooed him into the hallway like a mischievous third grader.

Damon smiled to himself. Now he just had to convince David Einstaff to take a leap of faith.

He found the library, which was situated in the center of the pentagon-shaped school. Damon asked a tired-looking library aide where he could find the shelf of old yearbooks. They were located in a corner reserved for discarded computer equipment and a beautiful wooden card catalog with brass knobs. Damon pulled open one of the small drawers—it was still stocked with cards.

He spent twenty minutes scanning the pages of dusty hardbound albums. Damon quickly located photos of Jeremiah Milk and Dominic Freeze. Then he found a school picture of Michelle Walczak. Given the yearbook dates, she was six years younger than her stepbrother Dominic. Damon peered closely at the photo of the plain-looking brown-eyed, brown-haired girl, then shut his eyes and conjured the faces of the female park workers from his memory bank.

Aylin Erul had large green eyes. The shape of her eyes resembled those in the photo but nothing else seemed to match. Of course, Damon thought, features change over time.

Damon shifted his focus and imagined Alex Rancor. The girl in the photo and Alex had nothing in common other than skin color. The curve of the nose was wrong as was the shape of the girl’s mouth.

Finally, Damon considered Veronica Maldive. The education specialist’s eye and hair color matched Michelle’s, but the shape of the girl’s face was much more narrow than Veronica’s. The difference could be due to weight gain, Damon thought.

Based on Michelle’s photograph, Damon ruled out Alex Rancor as Dominic Freeze’s stepsister. But he couldn’t unequivocally conclude that Michelle Walczak was neither Aylin nor Veronica.

Damon located a handful of other yearbooks with photos of Michelle but none shed any more light on her current identity. For good measure, and with the library aide’s permission, Damon made photocopies of Michelle’s pictures. He folded them into his jacket pocket alongside a newspaper photo from the
Philadelphia Business Journal
of an adult Dominic Freeze that he had printed at the Hollydale branch library.

* * *

Damon made his way to Tripping Falls State Park. Rebecca had vowed to Gerry that neither she nor Damon would speak with the suspects again, but Damon pushed the promise to the nether regions of his mind.

As he was driving, his mother called.
“Hello, Damon,” Lynne said. “You left Mrs. Chenworth’s party in a hurry the other night. Is everything all right? Bethany’s appearance must have upset you.”

“I’m fine, Mother,” Damon said through clenched teeth. His mother always knew exactly what he was thinking when it came to women. He summoned inner fortitude. “Did you happen to find out where she was going?” he asked.

“I did, Damon. That’s why I’m calling. I went to Cynthia’s salon yesterday to get my nails done. Mrs. Chenworth was there, of course. As you could expect, she knew exactly where Bethany was going when she stopped by the Fish Barrel.”

“Mrs. Chenworth must have cornered Jackson Krims,” Damon said.

“I’m sure that’s what happened.”

“So where was Bethany going?”

“Damon, I don’t think you want to know.”

“I can handle it, Mother. Just end my agony.”

“She wasn’t going to see another man, Damon. She had an audition to be a weather broadcaster on a national cable network. According to Bethany’s father, they saw her coverage of the tornado aftermath in Nebraska and loved it.”

“That’s wonderful news,” Damon said into the phone. “Why wouldn’t I want to know?”

“Because the job’s based in Atlanta.”

Chapter 21

The visitor center was bustling with activity. A dozen hikers of retirement age formed a semicircle around Lawrence Drake, who was standing in front of a large park map. Drake spotted Damon and glowered in his direction.

Damon steered his way around Lawrence and through the doors to the management wing. Veronica Maldive’s office door was closed, but Alex Rancor’s was wide open. She was filling out forms longhand. Alex looked up and waved Damon inside.

“I was hoping I’d see you again, Damon.” She twisted hair around her forefinger. “I was wondering if you’d like to take me out to dinner sometime. I wanted to ask when I saw you at the funeral, but I didn’t think it was an appropriate time.”

Damon considered the woman in front of him. Alex was a no-nonsense woman, appealing in a businesslike way. She had been pleasant with Damon every time they had spoken, and her delicate features were objectively attractive. But Damon still held out hope for a romance with Bethany, and he didn’t feel a spark with Alex.

“I’m actually seeing someone right now,” he replied. It wasn’t completely true but made letting Alex down significantly easier.

“No problem,” Alex said with bravado. “You’re looking for Veronica, right? She should be in her office.”

Damon stepped across the short hall and knocked on Veronica’s door.

“It’s open,” the teaching specialist said.

Damon pushed his way inside. Veronica was up to her elbows in glue, popsicle sticks, and cotton balls. Her dark hair was mussed. Brown eyes under lashes heavily caked with black mascara widened when she saw Damon.

“Sorry I’m such a mess,” Veronica said with a smile. “Please, sit down, Mr. Lassard. Thank you for coming to Jeremiah’s funeral. That meant a lot to me.”

On his way to the park, Damon had decided that Veronica was just as likely a candidate to be an accomplice of Dominic Freeze as Aylin Erul. She started dating Jeremiah earlier in the year, and Damon didn’t know if her motives were pure. Damon had also been led to the private investigator, Marcus Pontfried, by a single person—Veronica Maldive. According to the teaching specialist, she’d been the only person to see Pontfried at the park. What if he had never even come to Tripping Falls? Of course, if Veronica and Dominic were co-conspirators, why put Damon onto Pontfried’s track?

Damon looked closely at Veronica. He longed to pull out Michelle Walczak’s photo and do an on-the-spot comparison. Instead, he tried a roundabout approach. He unfolded his copy of Dominic Freeze’s picture and laid it on Veronica’s desk.

“I was wondering, Veronica, if you’ve seen this man around Tripping Falls?”

She looked at the photo. “No, I haven’t. Detective Sloman showed me a picture of the same man yesterday.”

Damon thought she sounded genuine but couldn’t be sure.

“He must be a suspect in Jeremiah’s murder, right?” Veronica asked. “The detective wouldn’t tell me.”

“I believe the police are looking at him very closely,” Damon said. He decided to take a shot at Veronica’s background.

“Have you seen Jeremiah’s mother, Dottie, since the funeral?” he asked.

“I took her out to dinner two nights ago.”

“That was really nice of you. When I saw her this morning, she said she planned to sell the house in Hollydale.”

“She’ll be all right in Arizona,” Veronica said. “She’s dealt with family tragedy before.”

Damon agreed. “Still, it’s hard to leave behind a home you lived in for so many years. I was born in Michigan and sometimes I miss it.” Damon paused. He longed to know where Veronica had spent her formative years. Was it in Hollydale as Dominic Freeze’s stepsister?

As if reading his thoughts, Veronica said, “I know how you feel. I grew up in Maine and don’t get back there very often.”

Now Damon had an answer. Of course, Veronica could be lying.

* * *

Damon checked the rangers’ lounge for Aylin, but it was empty. He stepped outside and cut through the woodlands to Emmanuel Alvarez’s cabin. The maintenance man had been keenly helpful the first time Damon spoke with him.

Emmanuel was in his garage, cutting sheet metal. He looked up and waved as Damon approached. Damon shook his hand.

“I’m about ready for some snow,” Emmanuel said genially. He wore a checked flannel shirt and dirty jeans.

“You’ll probably have to wait another couple of months. I didn’t know people from the Caribbean were fond of cold weather.” Damon leaned against the garage’s refrigerator.

“I think I’m wired differently than the rest of the folks down there. That’s probably why I never moved back.”

“Makes sense,” Damon said. “Any chance I could pick your brain again about Jeremiah’s murder? You were right on the money when it came to the method the killer used.”

“I was, wasn’t I?” The older man smiled. “The police came around yesterday asking about someone named Dominic Freeze. He and Jeremiah must have had quite a history.”

Damon filled Emmanuel in on the pair’s childhood interactions and his understanding of Jeremiah’s schemes to discredit Dominic professionally and to ruin his marriage.

“Sounds like Jeremiah had a lot of rage,” Emmanuel said. “I suspect he kept it bottled up for a long time.”

Damon nodded his agreement.

Emmanuel said, “If this Dominic is the killer and is as malevolent as he sounds, their history would go a long way toward explaining why he spent time with the pressure washer on Dominic’s fingers and toes.”

“That sounds logical,” Damon said.

“But you know all of this already.” Emmanuel lit a cigarette. “So, what’s really on your mind?”

“A link to Tripping Falls,” Damon answered without hesitation. “I think there’s someone on the inside who’s either Dominic’s hired gun or who showed him the location of your tools and told him precisely when and where Jeremiah would be alone.”

Emmanuel took a hard drag from his cigarette. “And who do you think that might be?”

Damon pulled out the photocopy of Michelle Walczak’s yearbook picture and handed it to Emmanuel. “She’d be a grown woman now.”

Emmanuel studied the photo. “You think this girl is one of the female staffers at the park?”

“Possibly. She’s Dominic’s stepsister.”

“I’d say it looks a little like Aylin, provided she started wearing green contact lenses. But it could be Veronica—it’s hard to tell with her weight. Alex is less likely, unless she had a whole lot of plastic surgery.”

Damon handed the picture of Dominic to Emmanuel. “This is Dominic Freeze. Have you seen him at the park?”

Emmanuel looked at it carefully then passed it back. “The police showed me a similar photo. I haven’t seen him here. Of course, that doesn’t mean much. The park has a lot of acreage.” Emmanuel took another puff on his cigarette, then said, “If he was working with an insider who knew the schedule of the Park Police officers who do the overnight checks, Dominic could have come in afterwards to do his reconnaissance. He’d be able to roam about freely until the break of dawn.”

The rotors in Damon’s head started to hum.
The break of dawn
. He recalled the tall, elderly man who had interrupted his conversation with Alex Rancor and Jeremiah in the visitor center lobby the day before Jeremiah was murdered. His property backed up to the parklands, and Jeremiah said he regularly hiked in the early morning hours.

“What is it?” Emmanuel asked, sensing Damon’s change in expression.

 
“Do you know of a man named Bertlemann? He lives near the park.”

“Frederick Bertlemann, sure,” Emmanuel said. “Do you think he’s Dominic’s inside man? The guy thinks he owns the place, but I’ve always considered him harmless.” The maintenance man paused, then said, “Oh, I see your line of thinking. He walks the trails before the park opens. He might have seen something.”

“Exactly. Do all of the staff know that he comes onto park property in the predawn hours?” Damon asked.

“Good question. Alex knows because she works with him on fundraising. I know because I’ve been at the park forever. Same with Lawrence Drake and Milt Verblanc. And Jeremiah for that matter. Aylin hasn’t been here too long, so I’m not sure about her. And I don’t know whether Veronica would know as the teacher: she spends more time inside her office than out in the park.”

That’s it!
Damon thumped a palm against his forehead. The obvious had been staring him in the face all along.

“You have something?” Emmanuel asked.

“I think so,” Damon said. “Can you show me where Mr. Bertlemann lives?”