A Wrongful Drift (Seagrove 8) (3 page)

“I know,” Sadie said. “It’s creepy. I don’t even like driving back into this area. But look,” she pointed to a dirt lane leading off Main Street, “that’s her road.”

They found the address – a small cottage set back from the road – and exited the car. They made it halfway up the narrow path when the door flew open and a young woman burst out onto the step. Her hair was unkempt, black wisps flying everywhere, and her eyes were wild. She saw them and froze, comically balanced on one foot until she seemed to realize it and set her foot down.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I’m Sadie Barnett, this is Lucy and this is Betty.” She indicated the women on either side of her.

“This,” she pointed down, “Is Mr. Bradshaw.” The woman looked at the terrier in surprise.

“Mr. Bradshaw?” she asked. “His name is Mr. Bradshaw?”

“I mostly call him Mr. B,” Sadie said, “But he came to me as Mr. Bradshaw and it didn’t seem fair to change his name.”

“I had a teacher named Mr. Bradshaw in sixth grade,” she said and crouched down.

“I have a feeling this Mr. Bradshaw would be a better teacher than he was.” She held out her hand toward the dog, who was a good fifteen feet away and looked to Sadie for permission.

Sadie let out the leash and let him walk up to the girl, who he sniffed cautiously before letting her rub his ears. The girl talked softly to Mr. B and Sadie felt like she totally had forgotten the women at the other end of the leash.

“We are looking for Holly Rigby,” Sadie said. “I think she lives here?”

“I’m Holly,” the girl said without looking up. “But you don’t seem like reporters to me.”

“Are you expecting reporters?” Sadie asked.

“Someone killed Sylvia, my academic rival, it’s only a matter of time before the press comes looking for me.” She gave Mr. B one last pat and stood up.

“You’re not expecting the police?” Lucy asked. “I think that’s who’d I’d be expecting if my rival was murdered.”

“Academic rival,” Holly corrected. “Not that I was much of a rival for her. I came in second in everything.”

“Weren’t you tired of coming in second?” Betty asked, “I sure would be.”

“Of course, I’m tired of being second. I worked my butt off to pass her and never did. And the kicker? She didn’t have to work at all. It all just came so easily to her. She could party all night before a test and still come in top of the class. It was frustrating.”

“Frustrating enough that you wanted to kill her?” Lucy asked.

“Kill her? So I could be first? What good would that do? What’s the point of coming in first if you have to kill someone to get there? Now I’ll always be second best. I’ll never know if I could have come in first in fair competition with her. It sucks.” She jammed her hands in her pockets.

“And I paid for classes to learn a bunch of new study skills and retention methods. It’s all ruined now. And if you are right I’ll probably get arrested, too.”

“We don’t know that,” Sadie said. “We are just surprised you expected reporters.”

“Are you kidding? Top of the class sorority girl is murdered. Of course they are going to run down anyone who had a grudge against her. As if.” She rolled her eyes.

“Do you know anyone who hated her enough to kill her?” Sadie asked.

“We had a particularly heinous hazing ritual this year,” Holly said.

“A lot of the girls felt humiliated, and most of them didn’t make the cut even after they went through that. Samantha Vitt thought Sylvia was in charge of it and threatened to report her to the school when she found out it was Syl’s idea. Hazing is prohibited by the college, but everyone does it anyway.” She shrugged. “Nobody thinks they should have to change the way they do things. Tradition and all that.”

“A lot of horrible things happen in the name of tradition,” Sadie said.

She watched Mr. Bradshaw sniffing around the edge of the flower garden. “Do you know how to get hold of Samantha Vitt?”

“Sam? No. I haven’t seen her since she threatened to turn us in. How did you find me?” Holly asked.

“Bullied the registrar into giving me the information,” Betty said.

“Guess you’ll have to bully the registrar again,” Holly said. “It seems to work.”

She frowned at Sadie. “You don’t think the press is going to hunt me down?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Sadie said. “But you can always just not answer the door. They can’t barge in without your permission.”

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. Thanks.”

She leaned down and petted Mr. B on the head. “Take it easy, Mr. Bradshaw,” she said and disappeared back into the cottage.

“What an odd girl,” Betty said. “Brains, but no common sense.”

“I liked her,” Lucy said. “She seems brutally honest.”

“It’s too late to track down Samantha Vitt,” Sadie said. “Let’s pick up a pizza and take it back to the shop.”

Mr. Bradshaw lay under the table in the back room while Lucy, Betty, and Sadie ate pizza and split a bottle of Gilroy White, a wine Sadie had picked up at the Thomas Kruse Winery in Gilroy, California on her last trip out west. The taste of the wine reminded Sadie of hot, dusty days in the central valley of California where she'd found some wonderful items in the basements and attics of the old farm houses.

"Let's put a trip to California on our list of things to do after we get back from our Europe trip," Sadie said. “We should go in the spring or fall when it's not too warm there."

She sipped her wine. "I need to pick up some more of this."

"If we go to California," Lucy said, "I think we should spend some time at the beach taking a real vacation. Rooting around in dusty barns is fun and all but it's not relaxing."

"We could do both, spend a week in the dust and then a week in the ocean washing the dust away," Betty said through a mouthful of pizza. "That would be nice. Pack everything up and ship it east, and then go put our toes in the Pacific Ocean for a while."

"It's a plan," Sadie said. "And I can't wait. Meanwhile, should we head to Italy or Spain for our next buying trip? I want to close the shop, leave Mr. B with Zack, and have all three of us travel together. The shop can pay."

"I think we should bring Mr. Bradshaw with us," Betty said, slipping her foot from her shoe and rubbing his belly with her toe as he thumped his tail once. "He needs some beach time, too."

"He hates to fly," Sadie said. "Believe me, he'll be much happier here with Zack."

"I'd be happier if he came with us," Betty said. "He's good company."

Mr. B groaned and stretched his hind legs out straight, giving Betty better access to his belly.

"I guess we could drive to California," Sadie said. "But it would add two weeks to our trip. The shop would be closed for a month."

"Never mind," Betty said. "I'm sure Mr. B will be fine without us. But it will be different not having him around."

"If that's the way you feel, imagine how Sadie feels," Lucy said. "He's practically her bodyguard."

"What do you mean 'practically'?" Sadie asked. "He
is
my bodyguard."

She glanced under the table to see him shamelessly roll closer to Betty. "Traitor," she said and smiled.

Affection for the little creature swelled in her heart and some of the dissatisfaction of the last few days fell away. As long as Mr. B was in her life all was right with the world.

"I feel like we're following the breadcrumbs," Lucy said. "Everywhere we go leads to another crumb of information. That leads to another, and another and none of it leads to anything substantial. It's frustrating."

"Tomorrow I'm going to find Samantha and see where that leads us," Sadie said. "And maybe we can get Justin released."

"I've got work to do here," Betty said. "So I'll pass. What about you, Lucy? Will you go with Sadie?"

"I will," Lucy said. "I have to get ready for a trunk sale, but I can do it tonight and be ready to leave when you're ready to go, Sadie."

"Ok, it's a plan, then," Sadie said. "But are you sure, Betty? It doesn't seem right to leave you here."

"Are you kidding me? You're taking me to Spain or Italy. I'm not complaining," Betty said. "And someone has to keep this shop running or there won't be money for trips to go anywhere!"

"You get an extra day at the beach while we rummage in the dust when we get to California."

"That could be two years from now, Sadie," Lucy said. "That doesn't seem fair."

Sadie got up and gathered up the napkins and the pizza box and tossed them in the recycling bin in the alley. Betty was dividing up the wine when she came back in.

"It's not fair," Sadie said, referring to Lucy's last comment, "but I can't think what to do instead. A special dinner?"

"How about a visit to Vatican City?" Betty asked. "I'd like that."

"You got it," Sadie said. "Vatican City here we come. You'll have to figure out what we should see before we get there."

"Absolutely, I will." Betty grinned. "You won't have to ask me twice."

She slipped her shoes back on. "I'm heading home, and I'll be back in the morning." She hugged the other women, grabbed her purse and jacket and skipped out the front door.

"Betty sure is happy," Lucy said, gathering up her purse and jacket.

"Betty is the best," Sadie said. "Nothing gets her down, and she works like a demon." Sadie walked Lucy to the door and locked it after her.

"Come on Mr. Bradshaw, let's go upstairs."

Mr. Bradshaw came out from under the table and shook all over before trotting up the stairs to their apartment with Sadie coming up behind him.

The next morning found Lucy and Sadie back at the registrar’s office of the college with Mr. Bradshaw making friends with the administrative assistants. The woman behind the counter didn't even protest this time around, just took the name and came back with a phone number and address. Sadie thanked her, made Mr. Bradshaw say goodbye and the three headed back out to the car.

"This is just like chasing breadcrumbs," Sadie said. "A little clue here, a hint there. Hopefully, we'll eventually hit the jackpot."

"Perseverance is everything," Lucy said. "We just need to keep at it. Have you heard anything about Justin? Have they charged him?"

"I haven't heard," Sadie said.

"But who knows? There could be enough circumstantial evidence to take him to trial. I saw the pictures he had of Sylvia in his apartment. It's pretty creepy. If they didn't have those, I'd be over at Steve Ryan's lock-up kicking up a fuss. But I don't know how to explain the pictures. Either he had a serious crush or something creepy is going on."

She shuddered. "I'd be freaked out if someone had that many photos of me."

"I'm sure he'll tell you why when he gets let out," Lucy said. "He tells you everything. I swear he talks to you more than he talks to his own mother."

"I'm not as judgmental as his mother." Sadie shrugged again. "I mean, if my mom treated me like that, I probably wouldn't talk to her either."

"Are we going back to the sorority house?" Lucy asked, looking around as they turned up a familiar street.

"No, it's not the same address," Sadie said. "But you're right, it's the same neighborhood."

They pulled up and stopped at a house just across the alley from the sorority house. They could see the upper stories over the little ranch where Samantha lived.

"Maybe they ran out of room at the main house and created an annex," Lucy said.

"There's only one way to find out." Sadie grabbed Mr. B's leash and slid out of the car with the terrier at her side.

"Let's find out if she's home." Lucy knocked and Sadie rang the bell, but no one answered.

"We could sit on the step and wait," Lucy said.

"We could," Sadie started, but then Mr. Bradshaw gave a bark and ran to a gate in the fence that surrounded the backyard. Sadie reeled him in and knocked at the gate.

"Is anyone in there?" she called out.

A sleepy looking redhead came to the gate and peered through the ornamental cutouts. "Who are you?" she asked.

"Sadie Barnett and Lucy Shylock," Sadie said.

Mr. B barked. "Oh and my dog, Mr. Bradshaw."

"You've got a dog?"

The gate swung open and the girl sat down on the walkway to say hello to the terrier. He was a small dog, but the young woman was slight and he was able to put his paws on her shoulders and lick her face. Secretly, Sadie hoped this wasn't Samantha because she clearly had Mr. Bradshaw's stamp of approval.

"Do you know Samantha Vitt?" Sadie asked. "I'd like to talk to her."

"I'm Sam." She picked up Mr. B and held him under one arm while she tickled him under the chin. He made growly noises of approval.

"Wow," Lucy said. "Mr. Bradshaw sure likes you."

"I love dogs," Sam said. "I can't have one here, the landlady is an old cow. But I will when I graduate."

"What's your degree?" Lucy asked.

"I'm going to be a vet," Sam said. "After Seagrove, I'm going to apply to Albany. They have a great veterinary school there."

"You won't have trouble creating a rapport with your patients," Sadie said, as Mr. B started to wriggle.

"Here, I'll take him back." She liberated Mr. Bradshaw from Samantha and set him on the ground to sniff around her feet.

"What did you want to ask me about?" Sam asked.

"Sylvia Jones," Sadie said.

"Syl Jones is vile. What did she do now? Make the pledges shave their heads? I swear she's evil." Sam's face turned hard.

"She's dead," Sadie said, watching Sam's features closely. "She was murdered."

"You're kidding," Sam said. "No one would dare murder that cow."

"No, I'm not. I was there when she was found."

"I guess there is justice in the world after all," Sam said, lifting a shoulder. "She should have been nicer to people."

Sadie couldn't hide the shock on her face and Lucy looked like she smelled something rotten.

"What?" Samantha said. "You want me to lie and say how sorry I am? I'm not a liar, and she was not a nice person. She enjoyed humiliating other people. People like that are bound to make enemies."

"How come you haven't heard about her death?" Lucy asked. "It's been all over the news."