The Right Call (8 page)

Chapter 9

Early
Saturday evening, Brill and Trent sat across from a frazzled Cynthia Davison at the oblong table in the second interview room. Her flight had been grounded overnight in Dallas due to bad weather. And it had taken her until noon to book another flight, which just added to her fragility.

Brill glanced at her watch and hoped no one heard her stomach rumbling. “Ms. Davison, would you like something to drink? We’re not quite finished, but we’ll wrap this up as quickly as we can.”

“I don’t want anything to drink. I want to know why my son was gunned down on the sidewalk.” Cynthia dabbed her eyes. “What kind of community
is
this?”

“A very nervous one,” Brill said. “No one will rest until your son’s killer is caught. We just have a few more questions. The gentleman you were in New York with, Chance Brouchard. What kind of relationship did he have with Tal?”

“None. Chance hadn’t met Tal yet. That was supposed to happen this summer.” Cynthia pushed her wilted hair out of her face. “They were so much alike. I was hoping Chance would be the father figure Tal deserved. Win was such a bully.”

“Have you spoken to your ex-husband?”

“I spoke. It’s hard to say if Win heard a word I said. He’s too busy feeling sorry for himself. That’s just like him, though. He’ll be consumed with losing his namesake and he won’t even realize that he isn’t the only person who’s lost something precious.”

Brill folded her hands on the table. “Tell me about
your
relationship with Tal.”

“We were close. I raised him by myself.” Cynthia put her fist to her mouth and choked back the emotion. “I thought I would die when he went off to college. I felt so alone. So unneeded. I struggled with depression and saw a counselor. He said I needed to fill the void with something enjoyable. Nothing helped until my sister introduced me to Chance. I do believe he’s my soul mate.”

Trent picked up a pencil and bounced the eraser on the table. “You must’ve trusted Tal to have left him on his own while you were attending art shows in New York.”

“He’s twenty-one. For all practical purposes, he was on his own at Stanton. But his father lives here.” Cynthia’s cheeks turned bright pink. “I have a life, detective. If Tal needed to reach me, all he had to do was call my cell phone or leave word at my hotel.”

“Did you know Tal’s friends?” Brill said.

“Yes. His closest ones, anyway. Henry’s a musician, plays the saxophone in a jazz band. Martin, Jamie, and Casper are students at Stanton.”

“Have you met them?”

“A few times. They all came to Nashville the Saturday after Thanksgiving to go to a concert. They stayed with me.”

Trent leaned forward on his elbows. “Can you think of any reason why one of them would want to hurt Tal?”

“Not at all. They seemed to get along famously. I could’ve done without the beer drinking, but the boys were enjoyable company.”

“Your ex-husband seems to think that Tal had a drinking problem.”

Cynthia wiped the mascara out from under her eyes. “I had some concerns about it too. What difference does it make now?”

“We’re just trying to establish where he spent his time and with whom. We’re looking for a motive. We’ve questioned each of the friends you mentioned. They seemed fond of Tal and devastated by what happened. There’s nothing that would lead us to think any of them were involved.”

“Everyone who knew Tal liked him,” Cynthia said. “He wasn’t the kind of kid who made enemies. I got the impression the shooting was random.”

“It’s possible, ma’am.” Trent wrote on his ruled pad. “We’re looking at all angles. So you haven’t met Tal’s roommate, Drew Langley?”

Cynthia shook her head, plucking another tissue from the box. “But I feel for what he’s been through. What a brave young man.”

Brill’s phone vibrated. She took it off her belt clip and checked to see who was calling. “Excuse me a moment.” She got up and walked outside in the hallway. “What is it, Beau Jack?”

“We’ve got another body, ma’am—a real heartbreaker.”

Brill turned on to Fifth Street and spotted flashing lights. A small crowd of people stood behind a police barricade on the sidewalk, and the WSTN-TV camera crew was set up across the street.

She pulled next to Detective Beau Jack Rousseaux’s plain-wrap car and looked over at the freshly painted tan bungalow and the For Sale sign in the front yard. Beau Jack was standing in the driveway near the detached garage.

She got out of her squad car and walked toward him, and he met her halfway.

“Where’s the victim?”

“Over there.” Beau Jack pointed to the side yard.

“Who found her?”

“Next-door neighbor. He came around here to mow and spotted her on the ground.”

“Have you ID’d her?”

“Not yet. She’s Caucasian. Twelve years old, give or take. She sustained a gunshot wound to the neck and probably bled out. The house is vacant. The owners moved out a few months ago. The Realtor said she hasn’t shown the house in a couple of weeks.”

Brill walked over and knelt next to the body. She held her breath and slowly pulled back the sheet. The girl’s skin was too badly discolored to tell what she looked like, but she was blonde.

“This child’s been dead awhile.”

“Yes, ma’am. The medical examiner will have to tell us for sure, but I’m guessing thirty-six to forty-eight hours.”

“Have you checked with missing children?”

“We’re doing that now.”

Brill covered the girl’s face with the sheet and stood, her throat tight with emotion. “If I ever get used to this, detective, it’ll be time to get out of police work. Show me where she was shot.”

Beau Jack led her to the front steps. “Blood spatter indicates she was sitting on the bottom step at the time of impact. The bloody handprints suggest she struggled to get up, and the blood trail leads to the place we found her. She probably tried to run after she got shot and collapsed. She would’ve bled out quickly.”

“Why was a child her age sitting on the steps at a vacant house?”

“We found a pink backpack in the corner of the front porch. There’s no name on it. All we found inside was candy and potato chips. But we also collected wrappers and empty Coke cans on the porch. If her parents registered her prints and DNA, we should be able to identify her.”

“The body decomp puts her death in the same time frame as the other shootings.” Brill looked over at the street. “We know the shooter came this way. I want to know who this child is and what she was doing here.”

“I’m thinking maybe she’s a runaway and was using the porch as a place to hang out and sleep. She would’ve been hidden from view.”

Brill sighed. “Too bad she wasn’t sleeping when our shooter drove by.”

Tessa Masino peeked out through the curtains and watched Ethan and Vanessa, hand in hand, amble down Azalea Lane, pushing Carter in the stroller.

“What’s got your attention, love?” Antonio’s voice was rascally. “Let me guess: Vanessa and Ethan?”

Tessa let go of the curtain and sat at the table. “I think their relationship is growing into something.”

“And this is your business because …?”

“Vanessa is a prayer concern, Antonio. You know that.” The corners of her mouth twitched. “They do seem suited, don’t you think?”

“Hey, don’t get me in the middle of this. You’re the
intercessor,
which I hope doesn’t become a synonym for nosy neighbor.”

“If caring about someone’s future equates to nosy neighbor, then I plead guilty.”

“I care.” Antonio took a bite of black cherry ice cream. “Vanessa’s a sweetheart, and I want her to find a good husband who’ll also be a dad to her little boy. But those two kids have another year of college to get behind them. And then graduate school for Ethan. They’re better off not falling in love right now.”

Tessa patted Antonio’s hand. “Oh, come on. It’s fun to watch a budding romance. After all the Jessups have been through, it’s wonderful to see a little sweetness and light over there.”

Antonio wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Can’t argue with that. They’ve been through the mill since they moved here.” He picked up the TV remote and released the Mute button. “Let’s check this out. Looks like breaking news.”

“WSTN News has just learned that the police have identified the girl whose body was discovered earlier this evening in the side yard of a vacant house on Fifth Street but won’t release her name because she’s a minor. According to a source inside the medical examiner’s office, the girl had been dead between forty and forty-eight hours when she was discovered.

“Police believe the girl was shot in the neck while sitting on the front steps of a vacant house and then walked about forty feet into the side yard, where she collapsed and died. Her body was discovered by the next-door neighbor who was out mowing his lawn.

“Detective Beau Jack Rousseaux told reporters that the bullet that killed the girl came from the same gun that killed Tal Davison and Skyler Roberts during Thursday night’s deadly shooting spree.

“Rousseaux would not elaborate, but he told reporters that an accumulation of Coke cans and junk-food wrappers found on the porch of the vacant house led police to believe that the victim had spent some time there. It is unknown at this hour whether the girl had even been reported missing.

“People here in Sophie Trace are both stunned and outraged that three young people have been shot and killed by an unidentified shooter who is still at large.

“We will keep you updated with the latest details of this story. This is field reporter Liza Edmonds reporting live from Sophie Trace …”

Tessa put her hands to her ears. “I can’t listen anymore, Antonio. It’s bad enough that three people have died—but a child?”

Ethan nestled next to Vanessa on the living room couch at Drew’s. How much longer before Drew went to bed and he could spend some time alone with her?

“The news isn’t very promising.” Drew turned off the TV. “Three victims, and the police still don’t have leads.”

“At least they know what kind of truck the shooter was driving.” Vanessa linked her arm in Ethan’s. “Maybe someone will put two and two together and call the police.”

“Vanessa’s right,” Ethan said. “Whoever did this must be nervous that he killed three people.”

“Or proud of it.” Drew chewed his lip. “I’d like to get my hands on him for making Tal suffer like that …” His voice cracked. “I’m going to knock myself out and get some sleep. Thanks for bringing me dinner.”

“You’re welcome,” Vanessa said. “Good night.”

Ethan got up and put his arm around Drew. “You’re coming to church with us in the morning, aren’t you?”

“I’m not in the mood for praise and worship
or
a bunch of questions.”

“I can shield you from the questions,” Ethan said.

“Well, you can’t hide me from God! And I really don’t want to talk to Him right now,
okay?”

“Okay. But He can handle your anger. It’s one of the stages of grief.”

“Ethan, stop it! I really don’t care what
stage
I’m in. I just don’t want to go to church or be around people.”

Vanessa shot him a look. Was she telling him to back off?

“Fair enough.” Ethan squeezed Drew’s shoulder and then put his hands to his side. “Get some rest.”