The keeping place, p.22
The Keeping Place, page 22
Vin scowled. “Why would Janie have her address?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Jude turned from the window. “Lila Walsh is dead.”
“Dead?” Glory drew back, appalled. “How do you know that?” As soon as she asked the question, understanding swept over her face. “She’s the woman you told me about. The one who hanged herself from the Hornwood Oak.”
There were only a handful of people, and sparse few women, who’d committed suicide in such a grim manner over the centuries. Only one in Nicole’s lifetime.
“I remember that. It wasn’t long before the senior party. We were all talking about her that summer. But that had to be…” Her gaze dropped to the notebook. “Janie must have made this list not long before Lila killed herself. That’s probably why she got so quiet afterward, kind of spooked. Whoever Lila was, she made enough of an impression on Janie that she wanted a bracelet like hers.”
Vin shifted to face her. “So, it’s possible the bracelet found in Hayden’s office belonged to Lila Walsh.”
“But she’s been dead ten years,” Glory protested. “Why would Hayden have a bracelet belonging to a dead woman? Especially one who died so long ago?”
Silence fell over the room. Nicole wasn’t the only one lost in thought, her mind spinning cartwheels. Every memory or possibility she chased led to a dead end. “Jude.” He hadn’t moved from his spot by the window, elbow resting on the sill as he stared outside. “Do you remember who claimed Lila’s body?”
“I was just going over that in my head. I think she was a Jane Doe. No ID when she was found, and nothing at the Hornwood Oak. Not even a vehicle to trace.”
“Who eventually ID’d her body?” Vin asked.
“A roommate. I don’t remember her name, but it would be in the files. The girl reported Lila missing to County. That’s how we were able to trace her.”
“Do you remember anything specific about Walsh?”
Jude grimaced. “No family to claim her. Unwed—and pregnant.”
“That’s horrible.” Glory hugged her arms to her chest. Nicole wondered if she was recalling her own feelings of helplessness when Bryce Keller left her with a ruined career and a baby in her belly. Thank God her mom was made of stronger stuff than putting a noose around her neck.
Nicole squeezed her hand. “Do you think Janie knew?”
Glory bit her lip. “Janie only shared what she wanted to share.”
“Look at this.” Nicole traced the line admires my mom. “She must have been a fan. Maybe that’s how Janie met her. Lila might have come to Hornwood to meet you.”
“No.” Vin leaned back in his chair, hooking an ankle over his knee. “According to Janie’s list, Lila was looking for Tad.”
“He could have been the father of the baby.” Glory shot a look between all three. “Whoever he was, he clearly lied about where he worked.”
Jude scrubbed his chin. “It’s worth checking into. Vin, why don’t you talk to Herb Kocher? I know he never kept a lot of employees, but get a list of anyone who worked for him around the time period when Lila died and Janie went missing.”
Glory looked hopeful. “You think there’s a connection?”
“Maybe.” He seemed hesitant to offer assurance. “I think it’s worth tracking down Tad and Rhonda. Ten years is a long time, but you’d be surprised what people remember.”
Nicole trailed Vin outside. “Are you going to see Herb Kocher now?”
He paused to stare down at her. She’d forgotten how tall he was, a height that somehow seemed more intimidating now that she was a grungy mess.
“Why?”
She raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. “I’d like to go with you.”
“I think you’ve done enough.”
The barbed edge of his tone surprised her. “What does that mean?”
“Exactly how it sounds. You didn’t use the best judgement crawling around inside the Boone Rail shack.”
Her spine stiffened. “I found something that you and Jude overlooked.”
“Got me there.” He shook his head, relenting with an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know how we missed it.”
“It wasn’t exactly out in the open.” For a moment, she considered telling him about Lettie Boone then dismissed the idea. Still, it had to sting given she’d managed to unearth a key piece of evidence that had escaped their notice. “The idea hit me after Ed found Lettie’s locket and broach behind that old grate. In one of Janie’s notebooks, she talked about having a secret hiding place—she called it a keeping place—in the Boone Rail shack.” She hesitated, noting the string of cars on Main. Busier than usual. Tourists were already arriving for Movie Night. Across the street, a gray-haired woman and her husband sat holding hands on a bench as they took in the sights.
Nicole refocused on Vin. “I don’t think Janie had the backpack with her when she was, um… killed. Do you?”
“No.” He spoke quietly now. Easier. “Not stashed away like it was.”
“Can I tag along while you talk to Herb?”
He blew out a breath. Eyed her up and down. “Nic, you look like you’ve been rolling around in the dirt.”
“Mom keeps a few extra clothes in her office. Give me ten minutes to change. You can grab an iced tea at the bar while you wait.”
He scowled, unconvinced.
“Come on, Vin. Maybe what I did was stupid, but it opened a door. The least you can do is let me walk through it with you.”
“Ten minutes.”
Nicole grinned and bolted inside.
“Sorry. I don’t recall anyone named Tad.” Herb Kocher used a box cutter to slice open a large carton of instant potatoes, then started slotting the packages onto a shelf. Nicole inched to the side, allowing a middle-aged woman with a shopping cart to maneuver past.
Kocher’s Market was every bit as cluttered as she remembered, with narrow aisles and a small deli tucked into the rear corner. Like Glory’s Place—once Larkin’s Restaurant—the market had been a staple of Hornwood for several generations. She remembered Herb Kocher as a kind man of medium stature with a ready smile and gold-rimmed glasses. His hair was thinner now, and his eyes hinted of possible cataracts, but he still possessed the same friendly demeanor, greeting her warmly when she and Vin first approached.
“Maybe you could check your employment records,” Vin suggested.
“Don’t have to.” Herb made short work of the carton and moved to the next, cutting it open with a single, practiced stroke. “I remember everyone who ever worked for me. The summer you’re talking about, the Tyler sisters worked here, along with your friend Kevin Reinhold, and the Atwood boy.”
Nicole exchanged a glance with Vin. “Marshall?”
“The older one.”
“Willard.”
“That’s him. He and Kevin stocked shelves and the Tyler girls worked the registers.”
There were only two registers in the store, the market less than ten aisles long. Herb’s recollection jogged her memory. She and Chelsea used to make random purchases so her friend could chat with Kevin. Sometimes, Willard would be visible in the background, stocking shelves, occasionally parting with a nod but little more. Even then he’d been uncommunicative.
If there was a “Tad,” Kevin would have remembered him, but Vin had called his friend on the walk to the market only to have Kevin say the same thing Herb did. Nicole was beginning to think Tad didn’t exist.
“Looks like Janie’s list was right,” Vin said when they stepped outside. “Whoever Tad is, he didn’t work for Kocher’s Market.”
“I wonder why he’d lie to Lila.”
“Could be a boyfriend who wanted to break things off.”
“The father of her baby?” Nicole doubted it. “She didn’t know him very well if she didn’t know where he worked.”
She dug sunglasses from her purse. Kocher’s Market stood across from the Hornwood Clinic, several blocks south of City Hall. At this time of day, the glare of afternoon light off the front windows of the clinic was blinding. As she watched, a whipcord lean man with a thatch of thinning hair headed up the sidewalk toward the entrance.
“Isn’t that Willard?” She pointed across the street.
Vin followed her glance. “Looks like it. Marshall said he’s doing some work for the clinic. Hedge trimming, edging. That kind of thing.”
She pursed her lips, considering. The clinic wasn’t large—only two doctors as she recalled—suitable for colds, flu, minor injuries, and x-rays. Anything of a more concerning or urgent nature involved a trip to Bottleneck. “Did Marshall get him that job through connections in the medical field?”
Vin studied her with narrowed eyes, his gaze off-putting.
“What?” she demanded at last.
“You don’t care much for Willard, do you?”
“No.” Why deny it? “He was always an outsider when we were kids. I ran into him the other day at Mom’s restaurant, and he just…” Just what? Made her skin crawl? Rubbed her the wrong way? “He seemed ungrateful. About Marshall. People in general. He’s the one who screwed up with his drinking, but it’s like he blames everyone else.”
“That’s a lot to learn about a person in a short time.”
“Think what you want.” She started walking toward City Hall where she’d left her car.
Vin fell in beside her, hands in his pockets. “You might as well know.”
She canted her head to gaze up at his profile. “Know what?”
“About the clinic.”
“What about it?”
“Marshall bought it.”
Nicole came to a complete halt. Vin never paused but kept walking at a casual pace. After a second or two to digest the shock, she hurried to catch up. “What are you talking about, Vincent?”
The corner of his mouth curled. “Vincent, is it?” He lodged a hand in the small of her back, guiding her around a couple conversing in front of the florist shop. “All right, I’ll tell you. There was more to Marshall returning to Hornwood than just Willard.”
The sun now at her back, she removed her glasses to study him. If there was more to Marshall’s story, Vin would know. Their four-year age difference hadn’t mattered to Vin in high school. Now it would be inconsequential.
“There was an accident.” He looked straight ahead. Further up Main, the traffic signal switched to red, bottling cars on their left. A blue Chevy, driven by a guy in a muscle shirt, idled with its windows open. The radio was cranked so loud she could almost feel the beat.
“Hey!” Vin bent to peer through the passenger window. When the driver glanced his way, he mimed dialing down the volume.
The driver took in Vin’s uniform, popped a thumbs-up, then did as instructed. A second later, the traffic light cycled to green and the string of cars swept forward.
Vin scowled. “Tourist. Must be here for Movie Night.”
She should have known. “You were telling me about Marshall.”
He swept a hand through his hair. “Apparently, there was an accident. I don’t know all the details. Marshall doesn’t say much, but he was hurt while working—some kind of explosion in the lab.”
She stared, dumbfounded.
“He was awarded a large settlement. Not long after that, the mess with Willard happened, so he came home. He took the job in Bottleneck but didn’t want to pass on the clinic. The big government job and city living weren’t what he’d thought they’d be.”
She had a hard time digesting what she heard. He’d seemed fine when she saw him. “You said he was hurt.”
“It’s his leg. He’s done a lot of therapy in the year he’s lived here.” They drew abreast of City Hall, Vin stopping at the bottom of the steps. “Not many people know about his connection to the clinic. Of course he’d hire his brother to do the landscaping.”
“But if he has that kind of money, why are he and Willard still living in their parents’ house?”
Vin grimaced. “Willard doesn’t know.”
“About the settlement?”
“Or the clinic. Marshall keeps his hands out of it other than overseeing administration behind the scenes. He wants Willard to stand on his own. Make it on his own. Buying a new house, even fixing up the existing one, wouldn’t do anything to get Willard back on his feet.”
“But he’ll give him a job.”
“He’s working, Nicole. Earning a living. I don’t get why you’re so down on him.”
A trickle of bitterness found its way into her throat. “Because he told me I know what it’s like to live in someone’s shadow.”
Vin raised a brow. “Your mom?”
“It’s not true.”
“I remember a time when it was.”
“That’s not fair, Vin.”
“You forget we dated. I know it wasn’t easy being Glory Larkin’s daughter.”
“I never resented my mom the way Willard resents Marshall.” She turned away, gazing down the street where the sloping lawn and winding sidewalk of the clinic were visible beyond the curve of the road. “I used to get annoyed with Marshall when we were in high school. He never fit with the rest of us.”
“With you.” His voice was neutral without accusation, but there was no disguising the truth. At least, at the time.
“You’re right. I always considered him a tag-along.”
“That’s unfair.”
“I know. Turns out, he’s a decent guy. I’m sorry Janie didn’t get to know the man he’s become.” Her attention was snagged by Jude as he jogged down the steps to the sidewalk, a slip of paper in hand.
“Any luck with Herb?” he asked.
Vin shook his head. “He says no one named Tad worked there.”
“Doesn’t surprise me, but it was worth a shot.”
“What’s that?” Vin jutted his chin to indicate the paper.
“Rhonda Lender’s address. I dug up the file on Lila—Delilah—Walsh. Rhonda was the roommate, the one who identified her.”
“The Rhonda from Janie’s list?” Nicole crossed mental fingers.
“Must be. I found a new address for her and thought I’d make a run to Bottleneck.”
“What about the bracelet?” She hadn’t forgotten the other connection between the Storybook Lady and her sister. “Shouldn’t someone check with Channel 72 to see if Lila worked there? It might have been her bracelet in Hayden’s office. She lived in Bottleneck, so it’s possible.”
“I’ve already got Pearl Rose checking into that.”
Vin shot a glance at his watch. “Jude, how about if I handle Rhonda? You’ve been on shift since last night. And doesn’t Glory want you to help her finalize loose ends for Friday?”
Jude seemed to consider. Both had a personal interest in talking to the one woman who might be able to explain Janie’s connection to Lila Walsh.
“All right.” After a few seconds, he passed Vin the paper with the Bottleneck address. “See what you can learn from Rhonda. I’ll keep an eye on things here until you get back.”
“I’ll call in if I discover anything critical.” Vin glanced at Nicole. “Interested in tagging along?”
“Curious choice of words.” She hadn’t missed his sly aside referencing Marshall. “Of course, I’m coming.”
This time she hadn’t needed to ask.
Chapter 20
Rhonda Lender lived in a modest Cape Cod tucked into a small neighborhood several miles from downtown Bottleneck. Nicole beat Vin to the door then waited impatiently while he rang the bell. The house seemed solemn despite a brightly colored garden flag and the tinkle of a bamboo windchime.
“I don’t think anyone’s home.” She craned her neck to glance past him toward the garage. Like the house, it was sealed up tight.
“Give her a minute.” Vin tried knocking.
The pounding disturbed a white cat who jumped into the bow window, then wound agilely between a trio of potted succulents. Nicole cupped her hands to the glass but could see little beyond the back of a chair and a ginger jar lamp. The cat meowed, executing another figure-eight through the plants.
“Definitely not home.”
“She’s not there,” a woman called.
Nicole spun as the stranger made her way up the driveway. Plump, with dark hair, she walked aided by a cane. Pausing by Vin’s police cruiser, she eyed the Hornwood emblem. “Is Rhonda in trouble?”
“No.” Vin stepped from the porch to the sidewalk, Nicole on his heels. “I’d like to ask her a few questions. Do you know when she’ll be back, or where I can find her?”
“She’s still at work.” The woman’s face was leathery with age, but her eyes held the sharpness of a predatory bird. Gold hoops glinted at her earlobes, and a large costume ring crowned by a rainbow of stones dwarfed her right hand. “I’m her aunt. What’s this all about?”
Vin squinted past her, down the street. “Do you live nearby?”
“Next door. Rhonda’s working second shift, so I came over to feed Roscoe.” The cat had settled into a dignified pose on its haunches, tail curled around its front legs as it watched through the glass.
“You said second shift.” Vin pulled a small tablet and pen from the pocket of his uniform. “Mind telling me where Rhonda works?”
“She’s a nurse at the Bottleneck Wellness Center.” Mistrust plain, the woman titled her head. “What’s your name, officer?”
“Sergeant. Sergeant McCain.” Vin produced his ID.
“Hmm.” Several seconds’ perusal seemed to satisfy her. “It’s odd when Hornwood police come to Bottleneck. You understand my concern.” She relaxed slightly, folding one hand over the other. Sunlight bounced off the top of her ring, splattering a glittery prism at her feet. “I’m Myrtle Lender. Rhonda’s father was my brother.”
Nicole immediately zoned in on the use of was. If Rhonda’s dad had passed, no wonder Myrtle was protective of her.
“Rhonda isn’t in any trouble,” Vin said. “I was hoping she could help me with information related to an old case. A former roommate of hers.”
“Oh.” The woman’s mouth pinched, accentuating spidery lines in the corners. “You must mean Lila Walsh.”
Nicole’s heart lurched. “Did you know her?”
