Pretties in Pink

17. Hallie

17

HALLIE

Ford stayed true to his word. Apart from the gentle touches that had become his habit, he’d kept his hands off me. After I’d reassured Mercy that I was absolutely fine, that I hadn’t been forced into anything, he’d found me a brand-new oversized T-shirt advertising the Corner House in New Orleans—his mom and stepdad’s bar, he said—and told me to use whatever toiletries his sister kept in the bathroom.

Then he’d left me to sleep.

Sleep.

What a joke.

I’d spent the whole damn night wondering what it would be like when he finally did put his hands on me, alternating between freaking out and clenching my thighs together. Until I met Prestia, I’d viewed the possibility of having s*x again with an unsettling mixture of panic and dread, but now…now I began to wonder if it would be as bad as I feared.

I mean, s*x had never been great. Even before I got abducted, orgasms had come with fingers or mechanical assistance, not with c**k, and I’d always assumed that good s*x was a marketing concept invented by the porn industry. My past boyfriends had aspired to mediocrity and missed the mark in every possible way.

Prestia? Well, I very much suspected he’d be magna c*m laude.

Dan snapped her fingers in my face. “Earth to Hallie.” She glanced down at the ground far, far below us. “Okay, not earth, but whatever.”

“Huh?”

“Are you listening to a word I’m saying?”

“Uh, would you mind repeating it?”

I couldn’t even claim the rotor noise as an excuse. Dan’s voice was crystal clear in my headset.

“He’s really gotten under your skin, hasn’t he?”

“What? Who?”

“Your cop.”

“He’s not my cop.”

Dan turned to look at me. “You’re blushing.”

Shit.

“Could you please watch where we’re flying?”

“Relax, we’re not going to crash. You’re also wearing the same jeans as yesterday, plus a T-shirt you got from the supply cupboard in the office. Pro-tip: keep spare underwear in your desk drawer.”

How did she know I’d gone commando? Add “X-ray vision” to Dan’s list of superpowers. I’d intended to run home before I came to the office, but when Prestia knocked on my door at five thirty, he’d told me there’d be decaf waiting. And when I emerged after a shower, I found he’d made pancakes. Freaking pancakes with fresh fruit and cream and maple syrup. So I’d used up all my running-home time on breakfast, and now I was paying the price.

Prestia wasn’t my cop.

But a small part of me wondered whether he’d be interested in the job.

“We were going through case files.” I filled Dan in on what we’d found, including Ford’s theory about an annual pattern. He’d also been able to fill in a couple of blanks for me—Stu Feinstein took a size nine shoe, not an eleven, and the Feinsteins had never used MowTown Lawn Care. “It got late, so I stayed on his boat, but nothing happened, okay?”

“On his boat?”

“He lives on a boat.”

“Bet that’s cosy.”

“It’s more of a yacht.”

“He bought a yacht on a cop’s salary?”

“No, his father has money.” I closed my eyes and remembered how it had felt to be wrapped up in Prestia’s arms this morning. His niece was right—he did give the best hugs. “Is it crazy that I like him? I mean, after everything in my past… And he’s a cop.”

“Not all men are assholes, although the Richmond PD’s had more than its fair share of pricks. And when you find a good one, it can change your whole damn life.”

“A good man? Or a good prick?”

Dan snorted a laugh. “Both, sweetie. If you think Prestia might be the man with the golden gonads, then no, it’s not crazy. Grab him while you can. What did you find in the case files?”

I laid out the basics for Dan. The chance that this case was bigger than just Carmody, Metgood, and Feinstein. The possibility of an annual pattern. The similarities between the abductions, and the differences. Prestia’s interest in why the windows were open. The question mark over how the victims—if they were indeed linked—had been selected.

And when I’d finished, Dan nodded thoughtfully. “That’s good, solid work. When we land, call Kellan and get him started on the search for the missing victim. And tell him to go back further too. I can’t believe Mila Carmody was the first—everything about that scene was too neat. As far as I can recall, nobody ever mentioned an issue with the AC in the Carmody home, and don’t forget the maid swore the window was closed when Mila went to bed. She could be covering her ass, but I interviewed her at the time, and even when I promised she wouldn’t be in any trouble if the window had been open, she stuck to her story.”

“What about the other windows in the house? Were they open?”

“Not on that floor.”

I’d studied the photos and the layout, and the Carmodys lived in an “upside-down” home set on a slope, with the bedrooms on the first floor and the living areas above. Mila’s bedroom had been on the north side of the house with a view across the backyard. At the time of her disappearance, only she and her parents had been on the lower floor—the maid slept in a room off the kitchen. Mila had been the only child of Derrick and Jeana Carmody, and although she did have an older half-sister from her mom’s previous marriage, Cassandra had moved out years ago. Derrick reportedly slept through anything, and Jeana took sleeping pills as well as wearing earplugs to block out her husband’s snoring.

“So much about this case doesn’t make sense.”

“We’re finding pieces of the jigsaw, but we don’t yet know how they fit together. Or even if they fit together.”

“But there are a number of similarities between the disappearances.”

“Agreed. Let’s go talk to Patti Metgood, see what she has to say.”

Patti Metgood was a tiny, birdlike woman with big blue eyes and flyaway blonde hair that she couldn’t stop fidgeting with. Everything about her screamed “nervous.” She’d agreed to the meeting readily enough, but now I wondered if she was hiding something. Her sister hovered protectively in the background, ready to swoop in if Dan or I asked the wrong question.

Dan took the lead. “Thank you for speaking with us today. I appreciate that this can’t be easy, and we’re very sorry for your loss.”

“I’ll do anything to help catch the man who killed Donna. Three years. It’s been more than three years, and the police don’t even have a suspect.”

“Patti calls them every month,” the sister said. “All they say is that they’re ‘working on it.’ But what we don’t understand is why you’re here?”

Was the sister going to help or hinder?

“It’s possible that Donna’s death might be connected with another case we’re investigating. We don’t want to raise your hopes prematurely, but we do need to consider a link.”

“What link?”

“The method of abduction is similar to that in two other cases we’re looking at.”

Patti clutched at the little gold cross that hung around her neck. “Two other cases?”

“I’m afraid so. Patti, could you talk us through what happened that night?”

“I… I…” She seemed to steel herself. “Yes. Yes, if you think it would help. Where should I start?”

“Right at the beginning. When did your AC fail?”

“The AC? I don’t… Why does that matter?”

“We understand the suspect entered your home through Donna’s window. Did you habitually leave it open at night?”

“No, no, only because…yes, the AC.” Comprehension dawned. “It broke maybe three days before? Norm called the company, but they couldn’t send anyone until the next week. He was so angry, and…” She trailed off. “He was upset, that’s all.”

The sister rolled her eyes. “Norm was always ‘upset.’”

“Did Norm have issues with his temper?”

“He just liked to be treated right.”

“Patti!” the sister chided. “You got divorced. You don’t need to cover for that jerk, not now, not ever again.” She turned to Dan. “You bet your ass Norm had anger issues. If he hadn’t been asleep next to Patti when Donna disappeared, he’d have been number one at the top of my suspect list.”

Interesting.

“Did he hurt you physically?” Dan asked Patti gently.

“Sometimes he just used to…lash out. But I learned to avoid him when he was in those moods.”

“What about Donna? Did he touch her?”

“I…”

“Patti…” the sister warned.

“Hardly ever, but there were days when he’d been drinking, and… He hadn’t laid a hand on her for months, I swear. And never in that way. He was getting help for the drinking, but after she died, everything just…fell apart again.”

“Are you certain he was asleep in bed with you all night?”

Vigorous nodding. “I’m a very light sleeper.”

“But you didn’t hear anyone come into Donna’s room?”

For a moment, Patti looked puzzled, but then her brow smoothed. “There was a fan. Norm put a fan in Donna’s room because the AC was out, and it rattled.”

“Was Donna a light sleeper too?”

“Oh, no, Donna slept like the dead.” The memory brought a faint smile, but that smile morphed into horror when Patti realised what she’d said. “Oh my gosh, I… She’s gone. My baby’s gone.”

Tears came, and the sister was quick with tissues and a hug. It was clear she’d practised that move dozens of times, and it was also clear that we were getting more of the truth than the cops had gotten three years ago. Dan always said that hostile exes made the best witnesses.

She touched Patti lightly on the arm, bringing her back. “Donna didn’t deserve to walk with the angels so soon.”

“She was the sweetest”—sniff—“girl. Such an easy baby and so creative as she got older. Do you have children?”

“A son.”

“Then you know what a big piece of your heart a child holds. Mine… It’ll never be whole again.”

“Let’s see if we can get justice for Donna, okay? We were talking about the AC… You said Norm called a technician—can you remember the name of the company he used?”

“A local place. They installed the system, and it was still under warranty. I think that’s why he was so mad, because it never should have broken that way, and the nights were sweltering. He kept tossing and turning…”

“Do you know where Norm lives now?”

The sister snorted. “Good luck with finding that jackass. He took off with the neighbour’s wife and Patti’s share of the proceeds from the house sale.”

And still Patti tried to minimise the man’s actions? Boy, he’d really done a number on her. But when I’d looked through the Metgood file last night, there’d been no mention of domestic violence whatsoever, so I suppose I had to view this as progress. At least she had her sister to help out.

“Sounds like a real treasure,” Dan said.

“Don’t get me started. Patti, tell the investigators what happened after the AC broke.”

“Honestly, it was just a regular week.”

“Donna was on summer vacation?”

“Class started the next Monday, so we went shopping for clothes and school supplies. Donna liked to have a new pencil case at the start of every term. Norm said she didn’t need one, but there’s always so much peer pressure among kids, isn’t there? And I took her bowling, and to the hairstylist. We’d planned to head over to the park as well, but Donna didn’t want to go without Cleo, and C-C-Cleo was away with her parents, so Donna spent a lot of time splashing around in the pool on her own.”

“Who’s Cleo?”

“Her best friend. She lived right next door, and…and…” More tears.

“It was Cleo’s mom that Norm ran off with,” the sister supplied.

“I-I-I didn’t even realise he liked her, not in that way. He always said she talked too much.”

What an absolute car crash of a relationship that had been. Dan had been right earlier, hadn’t she? When you found a good man, you had to grab him while you could. Prestia’s words echoed in my ears. Promise I’m not gonna make a move until you want me to.

“Sometimes, you don’t see the worst in men until it’s too late. During that week, do you recall getting any visitors? Not necessarily social calls, but tradespeople, delivery drivers, door-to-door salesmen? A cleaner? A gardener?”

“You had a gardener,” Patti’s sister prompted. “That retired guy.”

“Doug? No, he wouldn’t have hurt Donna. He was always so kind to her.”

“Why don’t you give us his details and let us have a chat with him?” I asked. “He might have seen something useful.”

“He…he passed away over a year ago. It was so sudden. One week, he was fine and digging in the yard, the next week, he was a little short of breath, and a month later, he was gone. Cancer’s such a terrible disease. I went to the funeral, and his wife asked everyone to bring flowers from their yard, and there were so many bunches in every colour, and— Yes, it was a real tragedy.”

“What about a cleaner?” Dan asked.

“I did all the housework myself. Norm never liked the idea of a stranger poking around in our home.”

“Tradespeople?”

“I don’t think so, not that month. The year before, we had the kitchen remodelled, and before that, there were painters, and Norm hired a guy to build one of those big brick grills in the yard.”

“Do you have details of the contractors?”

Patti gave a helpless shrug. “Norm arranged everything.”

Behind Patti, her sister rolled her eyes, but I had to sympathise. Back when I’d rented an apartment from somebody other than Blackwood, on the rare occasions I’d managed to convince the landlord to fix something, I couldn’t have named any of the people he sent. I’d never checked ID, never ensured they had the proper credentials. Now I knew better, but I’d learned the lesson in the worst possible way.

Beside me, Dan changed tack. “I’m going to show you a set of pictures. Can you tell me if you recognise any of the men?”

Patti sat up straighter. “A suspect? You have a suspect?”

“At the moment, we don’t know whether he’s a suspect or not, but his name’s been mentioned in connection with the two other disappearances I spoke about.”

Dan had printed out a headshot of Micah Ganaway—I recognised it from his f*******: page, although she’d cropped out the background—and added five other photos to make a line-up. I saw one of the men from Emmy’s Special Projects team, and I assumed the other four were Blackwood employees too. Patti took the page and studied it carefully. I didn’t see any sudden spark of recognition, but finally, she tapped the picture of Isaiah.

“I think maybe this guy used to work in the grocery store?”

In between travelling the world with Emmy and her band of merry men? No. Nuh-uh. And she clearly wasn’t familiar with Micah, which added another check to his “innocent” column.

“We’ll take a look into that,” Dan said. “One last question—could you see Donna’s bedroom window from the road?”

“Not from the road, no. There was a tree in the way, and bushes. But I guess if someone walked a short distance down the drive…”

“Thank you so much for your help today. Can we call if we have more questions?”

“Any time.” Patti bobbed her head. “I just want the man who took Donna to pay.”