Spackled and Spooked (27 page)

The phone in his hand quacked, but Brandon didn’t react. For a second, it looked as if he was going to faint. I moved discreetly out of the way.

Then he pulled himself together and spoke into the phone again. “Boss? I’ll call you right back.” He looked around. “Who did this?”

We looked at each other. After a second, Ricky admitted that he had.

“Who’s this?” Brandon gestured at the screen.

“It’s the woman from the crawlspace,” I said, while Josh explained about the forensic reconstruction software. Slowly, a bit of color crept back into Brandon’s cheeks.

“Sorry.” He sounded sheepish. “I knew who she was . . . it was just coming face-to-face with her like this.”

“Knew? How did you know?” I asked, at the same time as Ricky said, “Who is she?”

Brandon explained that Wayne had called him to say that the skeleton had been identified by Dr. Whitaker. “It’s Holly White.”

For a second, no one spoke.

“I thought she was in Hollywood,” I said.

“So did I,” Brandon answered.

“Who’s Holly White?” Josh wanted to know, looking from one to the other of us.

“Brandon’s girlfriend in high school,” I answered for him. “They went to prom together. I saw her picture in the newspaper yesterday. You did, too, remember? I showed it to you?”

Josh nodded.

Brandon cleared his throat. “I’d better get going. As soon as the ME’s office has taken off with the . . . with Holly, I have to go break the news to her mother. The chief tried to knock on her door—she lives just down the street on Becklea—but she wasn’t home.”

“Does Wayne know that you and Holly used to date?” Kate wanted to know. Brandon shrugged.

“No idea. Probably not. We weren’t together long. Why?”

Kate said, after a very slight hesitation, that she had no real reason for asking. “If you knew Holly, her mother would probably prefer that you break the news, rather than Wayne. Or someone else she doesn’t know.”

He nodded a brief good-bye and walked away. We waited until the lab door had shut behind him before any of us spoke. Shannon was first.

“Poor guy.”

“You heard what he said,” Josh answered. “They didn’t date long. And it was four or five years ago.”

“Still, to be thinking that she was somewhere else, alive and happy, and then to realize she’s been buried under the neighbor’s house all this time . . .”

She trailed off. The rest of us fell silent, too, and although I won’t presume to think I can read minds, I’m sure at least some of the others were thinking what I was thinking. Anywhere else, Brandon would be a suspect in Holly’s murder. He had dated the dead girl right before she disappeared. Because now, of course, it seemed much more likely that the reason she hadn’t attended her graduation ceremony was because she was already dead, not because she’d run off to California. And that meant that any law enforcement officer worth his salt would look at the people Holly had associated with just before her disappearance. Like her prom date. Whom we had just sent to break the news to Holly’s mother.

“You don’t think . . . ?” I began.

“Of course not,” Josh answered, which pretty much took care of that question: He, at least, was thinking what I was thinking.

“I think Wayne needs to know,” Kate said. “I’m going to ride over to Becklea and talk to him. Avery?”

I nodded. “I’ll come with you. It’s my house, anyway. And I don’t have a car of my own.”

“Can I come?” Shannon asked. Her mother shook her head.

“You have class this afternoon, don’t you? Come home to dinner tonight instead. I’ll update you then. You, too, Josh. And . . .” She turned, “Ricky, would you like to come over for dinner?”

Ricky hesitated.

“We’ll bring him,” Josh said with a grin. “And Paige as well, while we’re at it.”

“What about me?” I asked plaintively. “And Derek?”

“Why not?” Kate shrugged. “The more, the merrier. We’ll order pizza, or something.”

“So much for home cooking,” Shannon said.

Her mother rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll make stew. Something that I can just throw together in one big pot. If you get there early—say, right after your last class—you can help.”

Shannon promised she would, and Kate and I took our leave. I waited until we were back in the car and actually on our way to Becklea before I asked the question I’d been ruminating over for the past ten minutes.

“You don’t think Brandon had anything to do with Holly’s murder, do you?”

“Of course not,” Kate said quickly. Maybe even a little too quickly. “He knew her, though. Having him investigate her murder is going to seem like a conflict of interest.” Her eyes were on the road as she navigated the station wagon out of the Barnham College campus.

“Tony the Tiger will have a field day,” I agreed.

“God, yes!” Kate shuddered. “But the Waterfield PD is so small, and Brandon’s the only trained forensic tech they’ve got. . . . It’s hard to imagine how Wayne will be able to manage without him. Especially on something like this.”

“Will he have to pull him?”

“I don’t see how he can avoid it,” Kate admitted. “If word gets out that Brandon used to date Holly, everything he did down in the crawlspace, everything he found, will be suspect. And because of the probable connection between Holly and Venetia, he won’t be able to investigate that murder, either.”

“What a big mess.”

She nodded. “You said it.”

When we got to Becklea, things were still much the way they’d been when I left earlier. Linda wasn’t there anymore, and neither was Irina, but Tony the Tiger was still hanging on like grim death. We found Wayne inside Venetia’s house, and when he saw us, he came out onto the deck and closed the door behind him.

“I guess you’ve heard the news.”

Kate nodded. “Brandon said Dr. Whitaker identified Holly from her dental records. And then when he saw the computer reconstruction Josh and Ricky did, he went white as a sheet. It was Holly in the crawlspace all right.”

“Are you sure Brandon should be working the case?” I asked.

Wayne narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean? Of course he should be working the case. He’s the best crime tech I’ve got. The
only
crime tech I’ve got. Why wouldn’t I want him working the case?” He divided an intimidating stare between the two of us.

“They used to date,” Kate said, unmoved.

Wayne blinked. “Brandon and Holly? How do you know?”

“He said so,” I said. “When Derek first found the bones and Brandon realized which house we had bought. It seems the kids used to come here sometimes, to the haunted house, to impress their girlfriends.”

Wayne nodded. “I had to go out here a couple times to chase a few of ’em off.”

“Well, Holly was Brandon’s girlfriend, so he came here with her.”

“Huh,” Wayne said.

“I found a picture of the two of them in the
Clarion
archives, too. From prom. They went together.”

So even if Wayne, or Brandon, or both, were inclined to sweep the issue under the rug, there was evidence out there, proving that Brandon and Holly had known each other.

“This isn’t good,” Wayne said. Kate and I shook our heads in unison. He sighed. “I’m gonna have to take him off the case, aren’t I? He’s not gonna be happy about that. Biggest case we’ve had in the time he’s been with the department, and he has to go on traffic duty.”

“Maybe you can get Ramona Estrada to help you instead,” I suggested. In my four months in Waterfield, I’d never met Ramona, but Derek had mentioned her once. We’d gotten pulled over for making an illegal U-turn on Main Street, and while we waited for the attending cop to exit his car, Derek had made a wish that it would turn out to be Ramona Estrada. Apparently she was a soft touch. The cop had turned out to be Wayne himself, and Derek had failed to sweet-talk his way out of the ticket, but I had formed a mental picture of Ramona Estrada that looked a lot like Jennifer Lopez in a police uniform.

“Ramona?” Wayne repeated now, with a funny look on his face; one that Kate shared. “Oh, I don’t think she’d like that very much. Do you, Kate?”

Kate shook her head. “Ramona’s the police secretary, Avery. You know, the lady who answers the phone when you call the police department?”

“Oh.” I blushed. “Derek said . . .” I went on to explain what Derek had said, and what I’d thought. Both Wayne and Kate laughed.

“He was probably checking to see how you’d react,” Kate giggled. “This was before you started going steady, right?”

I nodded and tried to process the concept of “going steady.” I guess that’s what we were doing—going steady, dating, seeing one another—but it wasn’t an expression I’d heard used much since middle school.

Wayne was chuckling, too. “Ramona’s in her fifties, Avery, and happily married with kids and grandkids. And she’s not a policewoman. She works for the police department, but she’s a civilian. She does office work. Answers the phones, files the reports, inputs data in the computer now that Josh has taught her how.”

He sighed and shook his head, back to the problem at hand. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice, but I don’t mind telling you, putting Brandon on traffic duty for the duration isn’t going to make anybody happy. Damn.”

He reached for his phone. Kate stayed his hand for long enough to tell him that Josh, Ricky, Shannon, Derek, and I were all coming to the B and B for dinner later. Wayne looked wistful, but said he had no idea whether he’d be able to get away or not. “When something like this happens, the first couple days are crucial. After that, it becomes less and less likely that we’ll catch up with whoever did it. But I’ll see if I can get away for an hour or so.”

“I’ll wait in the car,” I said, to give the two of them a minute on their own to say good-bye and exchange any private remarks they’d be reluctant to voice in front of me.

Kate came out after a few seconds and started the car. We had driven only about ninety or a hundred yards—halfway down the block—when I sat bolt upright. “Stop!”

“What?” Kate came to a sudden stop—luckily jolting only my unbruised shoulder and hip, since I was in the passenger seat this time.

I pulled myself together. “You see that woman over there, pulling weeds? That’s Denise. She was one of Holly’s friends growing up.”

Kate looked hesitant. “You want to go talk to her?”

“Better she hear it from us, don’t you think? Than wait until Tony the Tiger puts it on the news?”

“I don’t know, Avery . . .”

“Look,” I said, trying a different tack, “you heard Wayne. The first couple of days after a murder are crucial. Holly’s been dead for four years. He has to notify her mother that she’s been found, obviously, but his priority is going to be finding Venetia’s killer. Without Brandon he’s short-handed already, and it may be days before he can get around to talking to Denise. We’d be doing him a favor.”

Kate nodded, but reluctantly. I kept pushing.

“If she says anything that might help, we’ll tell Wayne, and he can interview her himself, but if she doesn’t know anything, then we’ll have saved him the trouble of finding out.”

“I guess . . .”

“And it sounded like she and Holly had been close. It would be cruel to let her learn about it on the news.”

“If they were so close,” Kate asked, diverted, “why hasn’t she been worried? If my best friend vanished without a trace, I’d suspect that something was wrong. Especially if I never heard from her again.”

“Why don’t you ask her?” I suggested. Kate gnawed on her lip for a moment before her curiosity got the better of her and she gave in.

Denise looked up when she heard the car doors slam. “Baby’s sleeping,” she said, pointing to a window cracked open above her head, through which I guess she’d be able to hear Trevor when he woke up.

Kate smiled. “I remember those days. You’re up a couple of times every night, feeding and changing, and those few hours during the day when they’re napping are golden.”

Denise nodded fervently.

“We’re sorry to bother you,” I said, endeavoring to pitch my voice low, “but we need to tell you something.”

Denise looked nervous, glancing from Kate to me.