Hide Yourself Away (29 page)

“Hello, Ms. Callahan. Al Manzorella speaking.” The detective’s voice diverted Grace from her thoughts.

“Oh, yes, Detective. I wanted to get back to you with something that I thought you should know. Something that Zoe Quigley told me just last night.”

“What’s that?”

“Zoe told me that she was jogging near The Breakers Sunday night and a car sped by her, almost running her down.”

“What kind of car was it?”

“She wasn’t sure. Zoe was from England, you know. She said she wasn’t familiar with most American models. But she did see a partial license tag. Zoe said she saw the letters
S-E-A.”

“A vanity plate?” the detective asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, Ms. Callahan. Thank you very much.”

Grace didn’t want to get off the phone. “Do you think that will be helpful in finding out what happened to Zoe and even to Sam Watkins? Maybe the driver of the car was the one who attacked Sam. The time frame would seem to fit.”

“We’ll look into it, Ms. Callahan, I promise. And keep this to yourself, will you? This could be crucial evidence. If it is, it’s important that the suspect doesn’t know we have it.”

Grace hurried on. “You know, they could be connected. Like falling dominoes, one crashing against another. None of these events seems isolated. Maybe Zoe’s hit-and-run wasn’t an accident. Maybe she was run down because the killer thought Zoe could place him at The Breakers when Sam was attacked. Maybe Sam was attacked because he had seen the killer push Madeleine down the Forty Steps. Maybe Madeleine was killed
because she was getting too close to discovering who had killed her mother.”

“That’s a lot of maybes, Ms. Callahan. But don’t worry, we are checking every lead we get. Let us do our jobs. Thank you very much.”

Grace heard the click at the end of the phone line and was frustrated. But perhaps it was all for the best that the detective had cut her short. It wouldn’t be fair to implicate Rusty on the basis of a design in a tattoo sketchbook. She needed more before she could go to the police with that.

  CHAPTER  
111

Grace poked her head into the ballroom. Neither B.J. nor Joss was anywhere to be seen. But Beth Terry was sitting at the assignment desk, her brow furrowed. Grace walked over.

“Can I do anything for you, Beth?” she asked.

“Not unless you want to make arrangements to have a body shipped back to England.”

“Oh, man.” Grace shook her head. “Did someone call Zoe’s parents?”

“Yours truly.” Beth’s expression was solemn. “I’ve never had to break news like that before. I hope I never have to do it again.”

“I’m so sorry, Beth.” Grace searched for some way to be helpful. “Can I get you something? A cup of tea? Something to eat?”

“No, thanks,” Beth said glumly. “For once, I don’t have any appetite.”

“What’s the latest on Sam?” Grace asked.

“The same. Nothing’s changed.”

Grace turned to walk away.

“Grace, wait,” said Beth.

“Yes?”

“Just be careful, will you?”

Grace looked at her quizzically.

“I don’t know, Grace. Just be careful. I’m not superstitious, but you’re the last intern standing.”

“What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you heard?”

“What? Did something happen to Joss?” Grace’s heartbeat quickened.

“Joss quit, Grace. You’re the only working intern left.”

There were still two hours before she had to meet B.J. to go to The Elms. Grace called upstairs to talk to Lucy, but there was no
answer. She was actually happy that her daughter was out somewhere with Frank and Jan, safe and having a good time.

With nothing to do in the newsroom, Grace couldn’t stand around and wait. Though there was no love lost between the two of them, Grace was shaken by Joss’s resignation. She was about to call the Vickerses’ house but thought better of it. What was there really to say?

It looked like she was going to win the job competition by default, and there was little joy in the victory. Grace didn’t feel she had done much to distinguish herself from the other interns.

But if she could figure out the strand that connected Charlotte’s, Madeleine’s, and Zoe’s deaths, and Sam’s attack, that would make her feel she’d earned the job. More important, she wanted to do her part, if she could, to end the senseless violence and the heartbreak for all the people connected to the victims. This killer had to be stopped.

Of course, it would be foolhardy to take any unnecessary risks—and it would be irresponsible as a parent. Beth was right. She had to be careful.

But how dangerous would it be to go see Rusty at the tattoo parlor while the sun was still shining?

The first falling domino was Charlotte Sloane.

Grace theorized that from Charlotte’s death came all the others.

She could see the police station up the block as she stood on the sidewalk in front of Broadway Tattoos. It was broad daylight, and she could run up the street to safety if she had to. Grace opened the door to the shop and walked inside.

Rusty was talking to a teenager at the counter, giving instructions on how to care for his freshly engraved tattoo. Grace stood back near the entrance and waited for the customer to pay and leave. Rusty came from behind the counter and approached her. Grace eyed the fine spattering of blood on his T-shirt.

“Don’t mind this,” Rusty said, pinching at the cotton and pulling it away from his chest. “Sometimes there can be a little blood spray. It’s no big deal though. You ready to get that tattoo now?”

“No,” said Grace. “I’m going to think about it a little more.”

“Oh,” Rusty looked disappointed. “Well, what can I do for you then?”

“I wanted to talk with you about the design we saw in your book last night.”

“I was afraid of that.” Rusty sighed deeply. “I could tell that friend of yours recognized it the moment she saw it.”

Grace thought back to the night before.

Of course, Joss
had
asked about the design, but until this moment Grace hadn’t thought to question that. She had only focused on the fact that the design was the same as the sundial at Shepherd’s Point. Why had Joss been so curious about it?

“So you didn’t come up with the design all by yourself?” Grace asked.

“I have the feeling you already know I didn’t or you wouldn’t be asking me about it. Look, I don’t want no trouble. Can’t you just leave it alone?”

The anxiety Grace was feeling lessened as she saw the defeated expression on Rusty’s face. “Why don’t you tell me?” she urged. “If you don’t, I can go to the police and they’ll come and ask you about it themselves.” She took another step back toward the door.

“I have an explanation, but you have to promise you won’t go to the police.”

“That depends.”

Rusty was in a bad position, and he knew it. But telling this woman and hoping she’d be satisfied was far better than having the cops traipsing in here. The police wouldn’t believe him, but she might. He’d have to take the chance.

As Grace and Rusty stood near the doorway, he recounted his story of working as a driver for the admiral.

“I was outside that night, waiting for my boss, who was partying it up with all the other swells at that country club bash. I was staying to myself, sneaking a few cigarettes and thinking it must be nice to have the kind of dough that made it possible to donate wads of money to make sure that some birds kept flying, when I was having no success in saving anything out of my measly navy pay.”

Grace nodded in sympathy.

“Anyway,” Rusty continued, “Charlotte Sloane came out of the club, real worked up. She saw me and asked me if I could
give her a ride. I knew I wasn’t supposed to leave, but I couldn’t say no. She was so beautiful in that shiny, gold gown. Like Cinderella at the ball.

“She had a photo in her hand, and I think it upset her very much. I kept looking in the rearview mirror and watching her in the backseat. She had flipped on the overhead light and was staring at the picture and mumbling something about someone lying and cheating. I asked her what happened, but she wouldn’t tell me. She said she just wanted to get to her little girl.

“It wasn’t far to Shepherd’s Point. I dropped her off at the foot of the driveway and drove back to the country club. The admiral never even knew I left.”

“But what about the design, Rusty?” Grace asked.

“When I was cleaning out the car the next morning, I found an earring on the floor. I was going to return it—honest, I was. But then I heard that Charlotte Sloane was missing. I couldn’t give the earring back then. I couldn’t take the chance that everyone would think I had something to do with her disappearance.”

“So that’s why you never went to the police,” Grace mused aloud.

“Look at me,” Rusty implored, holding out his hands. “I’m the sort of guy the cops love to pin things on. I’m an easy mark. I thought of telling them what had happened, many times. But I was afraid they’d turn it around to make me out to be the guilty one. They’d say I was the last person to see her alive.”

“But you weren’t the last one, Rusty,” said Grace. “Charlotte’s murderer was.”

  CHAPTER  
112

Why had Joss been so curious about the earring design?
Grace wondered again as she walked out of the tattoo parlor, hoping a cab would come her way. What did Joss know?

Determined now to find out, Grace gave the Vickerses’ address to the taxi driver who picked her up at the curb.

A bikini-clad Joss answered the door.

“Grace. What are you doing here?” she asked, her face registering her surprise.

“I was hoping that we could talk about something, Joss.”

“What? Did you come to gloat?” Joss sneered. “Well, I wouldn’t if I were you. I walked away from the internship, Grace. You’re not exactly winning fair and square, are you? The rest of your competition’s been eliminated, too. How convenient for you.”

Grace had a good mind to turn and walk away, but she held herself in check.
Swallow it. Find out what you want to know.

“Who wins the competition isn’t the important thing anymore, Joss,” she said. “It’s really scary what’s been happening this week. Madeleine. Sam. And now, Zoe. I think that if we can do anything to help figure out what’s going on, Joss, we have to do it.”

Joss looked at Grace with skepticism. “Yeah, and score one for yourself and KEY News.”

“No, Joss,” Grace insisted. “Score one for being decent citizens.”

Joss stared down at her bare feet, wriggling her pretty toes on the entry hall’s ceramic tiles. When she looked up again at Grace, Joss invited her former competitor inside.