Dying Scream (31 page)

“Tell me about it.”

“She got anything to say about what happened between you two? Ever explain why she broke it off?”

“Last night she apologized.” He was still processing that one.

She sat on a stool and scooted to the edge. “And?”

“Nothing. I didn’t say a word.”

“She ever say why she left you?”

“I knew the answer to that one. She went back to the guy she’d been dating before we met. They’d been together for years. Her family approved of him. I suppose she just realized she couldn’t live without him.”

“What a twit.”

He laughed and it felt good to let go of some of the seriousness weighing him down. “It wasn’t all her fault. I was working a lot then. We were starting to have our own issues.”

“She should have talked to you.”

“Yeah, maybe. But I’ve realized I need to cut her a break. She’s had a rough couple of years. That guy she left me for died in December after two years in a coma.”

“Yeah, I read something about that.”

“She’s different. Steadier. Seems to know what she wants.”

“Who’re you trying to convince? Me or you?”

“Just stating facts.”

Jessie shook her head. “You’re slipping, bro. She apologized and your heart is melting.”

“I’m just making an observation. Giving credit where it’s due.”

“You said it yourself years ago. Trailer park doesn’t mix with Virginia blueblood.”

“You remember everything?” His estimation then still held water, but it annoyed him to think about it.

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.”

“I’m not.” He plated eggs and toast for the both of them.

“But you’re pissed.”

“No.” He got forks and paper towels.

“If you want to rekindle something, then do it. I don’t care if you date Miss Blue Blood as long as you’re happy. You spend way too much time alone.”

Embarrassment rose up in Gage. He stabbed the eggs on his plate with a fork. “She’s part of this investigation and I’ve got to deal with her. When the case is done, we are done.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Another growl? I think you’re done, bro.”

“I think you need to stow it.” He dropped his fork on the plate, his eggs untouched. “I’m late.”

“For?”

“A meeting with Adrianna.”

She barked a laugh. “You’re kidding.”

“When was the last time I kidded about anything?”

“Point taken.”

He shrugged on his jacket and tightened his tie. “I’m meeting Adrianna at her mother’s. I’ve got questions about the case for Mrs. Barrington. The Thorntons and Barringtons go way back.”

She shuddered. “Sounds like fun.”

“Yeah. And make sure you eat all those eggs. Protein is good for you.” He pulled his gun from a locked drawer and tucked it in the holster on his hip. Then he snatched up his keys. “Call Mom and Dad while you’re here.”

“I just talked to them a week ago.”

The sudden shift in her tone from playful to sullen caught his attention. “What’s wrong?”

Jessie pushed eggs around the plate with her fork. “Dad drags me down. I never seem to be good enough. Dad barely speaks to me.”

“You are good enough, Jessie. Don’t let Dad make you think otherwise. And Mom, well, she just worries.”

Jessie met his gaze. “What happened to me happened a long time ago. I’ve moved beyond it. And I just wish everyone else would get past it.”

Gage leaned forward and kissed her gently on the head. “The problem isn’t you, Jess. It’s us. It’s hard to forgive our mistakes.”

“You and Dad and Mom told me a million times not to talk to strangers. I did. I screwed up.”

“We were the adults. It was our job to see that you didn’t screw up.”

She shook her head, her eyes as clear and bright as a star. “Let it go. Let it go.”

A half smile tugged at the edge of his lips. “I’ll give it a shot.”

Dumping trash in the woods would earn Lester Doyle a hefty fine if he got caught. But, fuck it. The risk suited him better than waiting until the dump opened at eight. His shift at the restaurant started in less than a half hour and if he didn’t get this trash dumped and to work on time, his old lady was going to bust his balls.

Lester parked his car on the side of the road and got out. Hurrying to the back of his trunk, he popped open the lid of his camper top and grabbed the three plastic bags stuffed full of garbage. He half carried, half dragged the bags off the side of the dirt road into the woods that separated the landfill from the interstate. Drop the garbage in his favorite spot and be on the main road within five minutes. No one would be the wiser.

The underbrush had grown thick in the last couple of weeks. It tangled around his feet, forcing him to take precise steps so he didn’t trip. And the unwieldy weight of the bags, coupled with his hangover, didn’t make the trek any easier. But he kept trudging forward, half carrying, half dragging the bags.

Twenty yards into the woods, a smell hit him like a ball-peen hammer. A sick sweet smell, it coiled around him, choking the breath from him. It reminded him of death.

“Fuck.” Some animal had died. Or worse, that vet had dumped more dead dogs again. His stomach lurched and he feared he’d upchuck.

Lester dropped his bags and glanced into the woods, hoping to avoid what reeked. In the growing light, he saw an object. “What the hell?”

He moved closer, dragging the bags.

The smell got stronger.

He squinted. Searched the green foliage.

And then he saw it. The body of a woman. She lay on her back, her face turned to the side.

“Holy shit! Holy—” This time his stomach lurched and before he could think, he vomited right on his feet.

Adrianna parked in the half circle of her mother’s driveway and got out of her car. The morning air was fresh and a slight breeze off the river cooled her skin.

Gold and orange leaves rustled, a reminder that fall weather was weeks away.

This was the time of year Adrianna hated the most. A month and a half from now would be the anniversary of Craig’s accident, the loss of the baby, and after that the holidays. There’d been a time when she’d adored the holidays. But for the last few years they’d been quiet and lonely times. Friends had told her to leave town and head to a warm beach, but with Craig in the nursing home, it hadn’t felt right. And last year there’d been the funeral to plan. This year would be the first holiday season where she’d truly be free to do whatever she wished. Free. She had no idea what to do with her freedom. But she was anxious to find out.

Adrianna walked around to the back of the house and pushed through the kitchen door to find Estelle at the stove pulling muffins from a tin. “Estelle.”

The woman dried her hands on a blue apron and grinned. “I knew if I cooked these muffins you’d show. You never could say no to them when you were a kid.”

Adrianna felt her blood pressure drop. Tall windows let bright southern light into the room, making it the cheeriest spot in the house. Adrianna grew up in this kitchen. Often she’d climb up on a footstool and stand beside Estelle and the two baked cookies or peeled potatoes for dinner.

Estelle pushed the plate toward Adrianna. “I saw the news this morning. That why the police are coming to talk to your mama?”

Adrianna had called yesterday and explained the situation. “Seems Mom went to see one of the murdered women just days before she vanished. The police want to find out what Mom discussed with her.”

Estelle frowned. “No telling. You know your mama has a temper.”

“I know. I know. I wanted to get here before the cops did to prepare her.”

“Your mama is a little bit confused this morning. Last night was bad. She had lots of dreams. Even caught her sleepwalking again.”

“Is she taking her medications?”

“She sure is. I stand and watch her and check her mouth afterward. She’s giving me a devil of a time.”

“Thanks.”

The front bell rang. “Well, I suppose that’s those policemen you were talking about.”

Adrianna straightened. “I called Reese, but I haven’t heard from him. Hopefully, he’ll make it.”

Estelle wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like him.”

Adrianna hadn’t understood Estelle’s dislike of the man. “He’s helped me out a lot these last couple of years.”

“The question is why?”

“It’s his job.”

“That man goes way beyond the call for you.”

That she couldn’t argue with. “Check on Mom. I’ll get the door.” Adrianna glanced toward the front door and through its glass planes she could see the blue Crown Vic.

Adrianna walked toward the door and opened it. Gage stood there and on the bottom step Vega.

Both wore sunglasses and dark suits. Gage turned partway from the door, studied the yard as if trying to get a read on her mother. He wore no aftershave but the scent of Dial soap lingered.

Vega, staring at the front door, had his hands slid casually in his pockets but his jaw muscles were clenched.

Adrianna straightened. “Detectives.”

Gage pulled off his glasses as he turned toward her. Energy radiated from gray eyes. “Good morning.”

Vega nodded. “Ms. Barrington.”

She slid a nervous hand down her thighs. “I’ve not seen my mother yet, but Estelle tells me that she’s not having a good day.”

“Who is Estelle?” Gage said.

“She takes care of us—Mom. Has since I was a baby.”

Gage seemed to absorb the information. “I’d still like to talk to her.” Even disguised as a request, she recognized an order when she saw it.

“Of course.”

At that moment a Jaguar roared into the driveway. It parked behind Gage’s car. Its gray exterior glistened in the morning sun. The driver’s side door opened and Reese got out. He wore khakis, a golf shirt, and a gold Rolex.

Reese passed by Vega and Gage without a word and strode directly up to Adrianna. He kissed her on the cheek and immediately she was struck by his scent. Armani. Craig’s scent. Unsettled, her heart beat faster.

“Adrianna, I got your call and came as soon as I could.”

Adrianna shook off memories triggered by the scent. “Thank you for coming, Reese.”

Gage stiffened a fraction. “I’m Detective Gage Hudson with the Henrico County Police.”

The two men—the junkyard dog and the Doberman purebred—faced each other.

“So what is this about, Detective?” Reese said. He sounded bored.

Gage looked amused by Reese’s haughty tone. “We’ve got two homicides. Mrs. Barrington was seen speaking to the second victim just before she vanished. She also visited Craig Thornton the day he died. I’d like to ask her a few questions.”

That last bit of news caught Adrianna by surprise. “Mom visited Craig?”

Gage kept his gaze on Reese. “Yes.”

Reese didn’t show any emotion. “You’re reaching at straws.”

“Maybe. I still want to talk to her.”

“Margaret won’t be able to tell you much,” Reese said. “Her delicate frame of mind is common knowledge.”

“I still want to talk to her.”

“No,” Reese said.

Since she was a child, Adrianna and her father had united in a silent conspiracy to deceive the world about Margaret’s mental health when she was like this.

Now, letting Gage see the truth felt like a betrayal. But two women had been brutally murdered. And they deserved justice.

“They can talk to Mom,” she said. “But I should be there.”

Reese raised a brow. “Are you sure? You don’t have to do this.”

“Their questions need to be answered.”

Gage kept his gaze on Reese. “Come in, too, if you like, Reese.”

The attorney glowered. “Oh, I will be there.”

Oddly, of all people, Adrianna didn’t want Gage judging her mother. “She might not respond at all.”

Gage’s gaze shifted to her. “I’ll take that chance. But we do this together.”

The Barrington house was all Gage expected and more. First class, money made generations ago, it typified old Richmond. And it was a universe away from the trailer park.

As they climbed the stairs, he glanced at a painting on the wall. Another portrait of Adrianna, but this one appeared to have been done when she was about sixteen. She wore a pale blue dress with a scooped neckline. A pearl necklace rested in the hollow of her neck and accentuated the ivory paleness of her skin. Jessie would have a field day with it. The princess jokes would fly like bullets.

Gage followed Adrianna and Reese to the second-floor hallway, decorated with watercolors. Landscapes. The third door on the right was ajar and he could hear a woman talking in hushed tones. He frowned, wondering if Estelle had been sent up here to coach Margaret.

Adrianna knocked softly and pushed open the door. Margaret sat in an overstuffed chair by a large window that overlooked the river. The view was spectacular but Margaret wasn’t looking at the view. She stared down at her tightly clenched hands. She wore a thick, white robe and her silver hair was pulled into a neat twist. No doubt Estelle’s doing. The lack of make-up added a decade to her sixty-some years.

Adrianna paused, stiffening when she stared at her mother. He couldn’t decide if the reaction was anger, fear, or protectiveness. Likely, it was all three.

Estelle passed Adrianna, patting her on the shoulder as she left the room.

Reese touched Adrianna’s arm lightly. “Do you want me to talk to her first?”

“No, thank you,” Adrianna said.

She crossed the room and knelt beside her mother. She cleared her throat. “Mom, it’s me, Adrianna.”

Margaret’s eyes cleared. “Adrianna?”

“Yes, Mom.”

The woman raised a shaking hand and cupped her daughter’s face. “You came to see me.”

“Yes. I wanted to talk to you about that girl who worked for Craig. Rhonda.”

“Rhonda?”

“You remember. She worked at the gallery. Dark hair, big eyes. She was a painter like you.”

“Right. Right. I remember. She preferred oil paints to my watercolors.”

Adrianna took her mother’s hand in hers and held it. “Did you go and talk to Rhonda at her apartment?”

Margaret stared at her, clearly confused. “Her apartment?”

“At Moondance Apartments.”

Margaret thought for a moment. “Yes. Yes I did.”