Cold Sight (12 page)

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Authors: Leslie Parrish

Tags: #Romance / Suspense

BOOK: Cold Sight
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“I don’t know,” Walter said, shaking his head. “I always thought Jack was weak, but still basically a decent man. I have to wonder whether he really has got himself convinced there’s nothing to this, so he doesn’t
want
to see anything that contradicts his story.”

That was certainly possible. She’d spent the past month thinking Chief Dunston had reacted so badly to her articles because he’d been embarrassed, caught with his pants down. Men like him excelled at ass-covering. She’d believed his response had come purely out of anger and self-protection, that he wasn’t willing to see the truth being dropped into his lap.

Now, though, she had to wonder if there was more to it. If he knew what he’d found—knew enough to intentionally take the evidence and not let the coroner see it—something much deeper was at work here. Would the police chief really ignore a crime like murder just to avoid embarrassment? It seemed crazy, completely irrational.

“We have a very serious problem,” she said, talking as much to herself as to Walter.

“I know.”

They stared at each other. She had no doubt her boss was thinking the same thoughts, and wondering, like Lexie, what to do about this whole ugly mess. For her part, she wanted to throw a spotlight on the situation. A front-page article asking, “Where’s Vonnie?” for starters.

Walter, however, would want to proceed more cautiously, quietly. With a family to protect, and insurance to maintain on his sick wife, he had more at stake here. He could not afford to be pushed out of the editor’s chair.

“So are y’all out here talking about the way you’re gonna make the dickweed chief, the mayor, and everyone else sit up and pay attention to what’s going on in this mean little town?”

Lexie jerked her attention toward the door, seeing Taylor. The sarcastic tone would have told her which twin it was, even if she didn’t know to look for the girl’s small birthmark.

Taylor bounced down the outside steps, her brown ponytail swinging, her short cheerleader skirt fluttering in the strong breeze. She was the strong-willed one, the one who tested her parents every single day and had from the time she had taken her first step.

She was also, Lexie suspected, secretly the absolute apple of her daddy’s eye, even though he was now casting a reproving glance her way. “Language.”

The teen shrugged, confident in her ability to wrap her dad around her little finger. “Call ’em what you want, somebody has to wake up around here.”

“What do you mean?” Walter asked.

“Everybody at school’s talking about it.” Taylor sat on the arm of her father’s chair. “About your articles, the serial killer. Wondering if the Ghoul’s got Vonnie Jackson.”

“Do you know her?” Lexie asked, forcing herself to ignore the stupid nickname.

Taylor nodded. “Not well, but she seems nice. She’s in Jenny’s AP Chem class.”

“She hadn’t been acting strangely at school?” Lexie asked.

“No. She was fine and excited at the National Honors Society meeting Monday night.”

Walter raised a brow. “How do you know? Got something to tell me about your grades?”

The girl frowned and looked away. “No, Dad, sorry, I’m still the dumb one. Jenny’s your honors kid.
She
said Vonnie seemed fine that night. They walked out together afterward. Jen offered her a ride, but Vonnie said her mom was picking her up.” Taylor shook her head, her pretty face set in an unusual deep frown. Sounding grieved, she added, “Jenny feels like shit.”

This time her father didn’t correct her language. His face had grown pale, as if he’d finally put together the fact that his own child had been the last to see Vonnie before her disappearance. Her path may have come within minutes of crossing a monster’s.

Taylor continued. “How can somebody just vanish off the planet? It’s so scary.”

Walter reached out and grabbed his daughter’s hand. “Yes, it is. Which is why I don’t want you going anywhere alone for the time being. Stick with your sister or your friends. And don’t forget, midnight curfew.”

“I’ll be fine, Daddy. I’m a big girl.”

Lexie cleared her throat. “I’m sure that’s what every one of those other girls said.”

Nodding, Taylor kissed her father’s cheek, promising, “I’ll be careful!”

She headed for the door as her sister came out of it. The twins touched as they passed on the walkway, lightly, just a brush of hand on hand. It was always that way. From the outside, they appeared physically identical but different in every other way—from personality, to brains, to dreams. But there was always that connection that made them reach out to each other. Not having a sister, and never having been close to her brother, Lexie could only wonder about that kind of relationship. They were incredibly lucky to have it. Having spent a lot of time with the girls, even spending weekends with them occasionally so Walter could stay close to Ann-Marie in the hospital, she suspected there wasn’t much the Kirby twins wouldn’t do for each other.

“Hi, Lexie,” Jenny murmured as she joined them.

The older twin was always quieter, more bookish, though she still wore her uniform like she meant serious cheering business. Now, however, with her genuinely adult brush with tragedy, she appeared even more subdued. When asked, she confirmed what Taylor had said about Vonnie, appearing on the verge of tears.

Well, who wouldn’t be? The north side of Granville had been pretty well insulated from what had been going on here for the past few years since none of the other missing girls had gone to GHS. But now things were different. Even though Vonnie Jackson lived in the Boro, she’d been grabbed walking home from the “good” school. It had changed the whole ball game.

Jenny was saying good-bye to her father, making the same promises to be careful her sister had, when Lexie heard the trill of her cell phone. She tugged it out of her pocket, glanced at the screen, and immediately began to put it away. People who blocked their phone numbers from caller ID deserved to have to leave a message and be called back whenever she felt like it.

Then she hesitated. It had been hours since she’d heard from Aidan, time enough for him to finish reading through the folder and listen to the recordings. Plus, he seemed like the type who would protect the privacy of his number. So she answered. “Hello?”

“Ms. Nolan?”

Smiling, she replied, “Hello, Mr. McConnell.”

Walter, who had been watching his daughter walk pensively back into the house, jerked his attention to her, mouthing, “It’s him?”

She nodded.

“I’d like to talk to you again,” the psychic said. “I’ve finished reading through all this information and I have a few questions.”

Her reply was sardonic, but true. “A few? That’s about a hundred less than I’ve got regarding this case.”

“Is there any chance of me getting copies of the police reports on these other missing teenagers?”

This time she actually laughed. “You must be kidding.
If
he wrote up any reports, I assure you Chief Dunston isn’t going to let you, me, or anybody else near them.”

Silence; then he asked, “How wired is the police station?”

“Wired?”

“I mean, the town’s pretty small. Is the station’s computer system up-to-date?”

Understanding, she asked, “Are you a hacker as well as a mind reader?”

“Sometimes to the first, a definite no to the second. Do you know?”

“Well, I know they’re computerized.” She put her hand over the mouthpiece and asked Walter, “How good’s the IT guy who handles the police department?”

Walter sneered.

“Okay,” she said into the phone, “security’s probably not great. Are you really going to hack into Chief Dunce’s files?”

He was silent for a moment, then smoothly said, “Of course not, Ms. Nolan. That would be illegal. If I do come up with any information that’s in those reports, you’re just going to have to assume I used my super-psychic brain to get it.”

She heard another hint of that dry humor in his voice, like she’d noticed once or twice yesterday afternoon. It suited him, somehow, and she imagined that when he was in a good mood, the under- the-breath one-liners were probably wickedly funny.

“How soon can you come back over here?” he asked.

“I’m at my boss’s right now, and I was thinking of going over to the high school after dinner.” She’d been thinking about Taylor’s passion regarding Vonnie’s disappearance, and Jenny’s obvious sadness. Considering their school was playing against Vonnie’s old one tonight, she had to wonder if it might be worth going to the field, seeing if anything happened when Granville’s two worlds collided.

“Isn’t the school closed by now?”

She explained her thinking, noting Walter’s nod as he silently approved the plan.

“If you want me to, I can come by later, after the game. Might be a little late.” Suddenly realizing he might be of some help, she added, “Or else you could meet me there.”

“I don’t think so,” he immediately replied. “I don’t do well in crowds.”

“I get it. It would be like walking into an all-you-can-eat psychic buffet, right? Too many minds to read?”

He sighed, not amused by her poor jest. “Maybe you should get out your notebook and write this down since you keep forgetting. I am not a mind reader.”

“Sorry, just joking. But seriously, why don’t you come? This game is one of the social events of the year. Almost everyone in this town will be there. If you ever wanted to get a look at the chief, the mayor, the rich business owners, as well as a lot of people from the Boro, plus Vonnie’s friends, that would be the place to do it.”

“You might have a point,” he murmured, not sounding happy about the prospect, but at least considering it.

How his world had changed in the one day since she’d invaded it. From his absolute lack of knowledge about the basic geography of Granville, she suspected he’d seldom left his own house since moving here. And now she was trying to drag him out into one of the biggest crowds that ever gathered around here.

She expected him to refuse, figured he might even be having second thoughts about calling her at all. Opening her mouth to tell him to forget the idea, she was stopped by the sound of his deep, resigned sigh.

“All right, Ms. Nolan. I’ll meet you at the high school. Look for my car, a black SUV with tinted windows.”

She subdued a triumphant exclamation. “It’ll be crowded, so park in the far north lot, away from the field. And speaking of black, can you maybe dress a little more, umm, cheerfully than you were earlier? You and I are going to draw enough attention as it is.”

“The two outcasts of the town, hmm?”

“Something like that.”

“Mightn’t people just assume we wanted to watch the ball game?”

She couldn’t prevent a snort. “Mightn’t people also just assume you’re an undertaker? Look, face it, you’re not the small-town-football-fan type and everybody and his mother will know I’m there because another girl has gone missing. So I’d rather not draw any more attention than necessary. Meaning, I’d appreciate it if you’d lose the head-to-toe black ensemble and try to blend with the sea of denim and flannel, especially since you want your involvement to stay off the record.”

He sighed again. “Fine. I’ll meet you in the parking lot; we can talk inside my car before we go in.” He sounded thoughtful as he added, “And from our anonymous vantage point, you can point out everyone I need to know about. Including this infamous Chief Dunston.”

“Sounds good. See you then.”

Lexie disconnected, meeting Walter’s eye. “I think he’s in.”

If he was going to a high school football game in the middle of Nowhere, GA, the man was definitely
in
.

“Excellent,” her boss replied. “I’d love to go with you, but Ann-Marie’s just not up to it yet and I hate to leave her alone after being at work all day.”

“I totally understand.”

His expression grew more serious. “Listen, Stan’ll be at the game tonight.”

She expected nothing else, since his son played for Granville High. Since his divorce a couple of years ago, during which his teenage son had asked to stay with his mother, Stan had been trying to make up for being a total waste as a father throughout the boy’s childhood. Too little, too late, in her opinion, but she had to give the man props for not giving up.

“If anyone asks,” he added, “say I sent you out there to do a human interest story. The girls tell me tonight’s game is being dedicated to the memory of Coach White.”

She vaguely remembered the man, who’d led his team to a state championship some years back. He’d died in a single-car accident and was still hailed as a local hero. “Okay.”

“And, Lex, do me a favor, would you?”

“Anything.”

He answered not as her boss, not even as her friend, but simply as a concerned father. “Keep your eye on my girls tonight, would you?”

“I will.” She leaned over and patted his hand. “But don’t worry, this guy isn’t grabbing his victims from big, crowded events. He’s taking them when they’re alone in secluded places.”

“I know.” He glanced toward the door through which the twins had gone. “That doesn’t mean I’m not scared to death and won’t do everything I can to keep my daughters safe.”

Lexie nodded in agreement. “As should every parent in town.”

Chapter 5

Friday 6:45 p.m.

Vonnie didn’t think she was going to last much longer. How long could someone survive without food or hydration? Food, probably several days. But if she didn’t get some fluids into her body, her organs were going to start shutting down.

It had been more than a day since she’d taken her last sip of warm, rusty water. Now she was so thirsty, she probably would have tried licking the dampness off the cement walls.

But she couldn’t even do that. Not with her mouth duct-taped closed.

Oh, he had been angry that she’d screamed for help. Far from being rescued, her last-ditch effort to save herself had earned her only more abuse, and enforced starvation. When the bastard had returned from wherever he’d gone—without any strong, heroic rescuer storming in behind him—he’d burst into her cell with a big roll of tape. He’d wrapped it around and around her head, sticking it to her face, her hair, her mouth, her nose.

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