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Cold Case at Carlton's Canyon Page 13


  Was this corsage significant? Violets. Were they the same type of flowers she’d worn to homecoming or prom?

  * * *

  AMANDA’S LUNGS STRAINED for a breath as she eased her way through the hall and into Suzy’s home office. She’d already noted the destruction of the entertainment system in the living room, but a laptop sat on another desk in the office.

  This one hadn’t been smashed. Instead it was open, and a screen saver displayed a ten-year-old photograph of Suzy and the cheerleading squad. Suzy’s blond hair gleamed beneath the camera lights, her smile boasting no telling how many dollars’ worth of dental work.

  Amanda’s heart began to pound.

  Was there a specific reason the intruder had left this computer unharmed? Did the photo of Suzy and the other cheerleaders mean something?

  She quickly checked the closet, but it was empty. Relief spilled through her that she hadn’t found Suzy’s body. Not that it meant Suzy was still alive.

  But until they had her body, there was hope.

  Amanda noted dozens of fliers and stacks of mail on the chrome desk, one file box designated for work. But most of the other mail pertained to the reunion and the upcoming plans for the celebration.

  “The bedroom’s clear,” Justin said, startling her.

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Did you find anything?”

  “Her bedroom was trashed like the living room. The bathtub was full of water, and a corsage was floating inside.”

  Amanda’s pulse jumped. “A corsage?”

  “A wristband of violets a teenage girl would wear to homecoming or prom.”

  “Good grief,” Amanda said. “Class rings. Corsages. It all keeps coming back to the school.”

  “And whatever happened ten years ago to tick off the perp.”

  Perspiration trickled down the back of Amanda’s neck. “Look at this.” She gestured toward the screen saver. “I doubt even Suzy was still stuck in time enough to keep this on her computer. Especially one she uses for work.”

  Justin leaned toward the screen, studying the photos. “Who are the girls?”

  Amanda swallowed hard and pointed them out from left to right. “Melanie Hoit, Julie Kane, Lynn Faust, Kelly Lambert and Suzy in the front row. Anise Linton, Mona Pratt and Eleanor Goggins in the back row.”

  “Two of the girls in the front row are dead and now another is missing,” Justin surmised.

  Worry kicked in Amanda’s gut. “I wonder if that means Julie and Lynn are next.”

  “There’s the back row, too,” Justin said.

  Amanda contemplated what they knew so far. “But Avery Portland, one of the original victims, wasn’t a cheerleader. And neither was Tina Grimes, Carly Edgewater, or Denise Newnan. At least not at Canyon High.”

  “True. But somehow they fit the victimology or knew the unsub.”

  Amanda glanced up at Justin. “We have to warn the rest of the cheerleaders that they’re in danger.”

  Justin hesitated.

  They had already questioned Anise, Mona and Eleanor about Kelly’s disappearance. “Let’s think about that. We don’t want to panic anyone. And with Kelly’s death, they’re probably already on edge.”

  Unease prickled Amanda’s spine. “What if we’re looking at this all wrong? We know Donald Reisling had a reason to hate the women. But what if our killer is a female? A woman from our class who feels like these girls cheated her out of something.”

  “Like making the cheerleading squad?” Justin asked.

  “That does seem thin for a motive, doesn’t it?” Amanda said.

  Justin shrugged. “Not if the girl has mental problems. Sometimes unstable people zero in on a specific event as the pivotal moment in their life, the event that destroyed their future. The perp could have tried out, failed and been shunned by the ones who did make it. She thinks that if she’d only made the squad, she would have been popular, would have had more friends, success...a different life.”

  “Then we need to look at the roster and find out who was cut.” Amanda felt a burst of adrenaline. “I’ll talk to the cheerleading coach. She might have some insight.”

  “We should speak with the school counselor, too,” Justin said. “The counselor would know if a specific student had emotional issues that fit the profile.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Have you seen a purse or cell phone?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll search for one while you scan her emails.” Justin glanced around the condo. “If the unsub didn’t take her from here, he might have sent her a text to lure her away like he did Kelly.”

  Amanda frowned. “But even if he didn’t take her from the condo, the suspect was here. We should look at the surveillance tapes and see who came in and out.”

  “I’ll ask the guard to get tapes of the last twenty-four hours for us.”

  Amanda’s pulse pounded. Hopefully they would finally catch a break.

  * * *

  JUSTIN QUICKLY PHONED the guard, filled him in and asked him to pull the tapes. Then he hurriedly searched the office bookcase, various shelves, the hall closet and the bedroom, but found no purse or phone. Another sweep of the den didn’t turn up anything either.

  Had Suzy left of her own accord to meet someone, then been ambushed?

  “I didn’t find the phone or purse,” he told Amanda. “I’m going to look at those tapes while you finish with her computer.”

  “Call me if you find anything,” Amanda said, her attention on the screen. “I’ll see what her schedule looked like before she disappeared.”

  He rushed into the hallway, and rode the elevator to the main floor and met the guard.

  The guard escorted him down the hall into a large room with several screens showing views of the building, hallways and elevator.

  “This is from the last twenty-four hours.”

  Justin slid into one of the chairs and watched as the guard set the tapes for him to review. The guard identified each of the residents as they appeared outside and inside the building, seemed to know the make and model of cars they drove and other tidbits of personal information he’d picked up on the job.

  One unit had had furniture delivered the previous day, but the resident had been home to sign for it and let the deliveryman in. UPS delivered several packages along with FedEx. A cleaning service that worked the building came and went, cleaning the common areas, while several of the units had obviously hired them, as well. The residents consisted of young singles or couples in their thirties who worked.

  He sat up straighter as Suzy Turner exited her unit at eight a.m. the previous morning. She looked distracted, was checking her phone messages and juggling her briefcase as she rushed toward the elevator.

  She’d been very much alive.

  He wanted to know what was on her phone.

  “What kind of car did Suzy drive?”

  “A silver BMW,” the guard said. He recited the license plate off the top of his head.

  Justin punched his chief’s number and requested the tech analyst get copies of Suzy’s phone records, then asked him to put an APB on her car.

  “I’ll get back to you,” his chief said.

  Justin’s mind churned as he scoured through the rest of the tapes. The same cleaning crew that had worked the building entered Suzy’s apartment around 1:00 p.m.

  Or was it the same crew?

  There was only one woman. Her head was wrapped in a scarf like one of the workers from the company, but she was alone.

  “Does the crew ever split up on jobs?” he asked.

  The guard shrugged. “Sometimes they do for individual cleaning jobs.”

  He studied the woman again, frowning when he noticed she was wearing a pair of black boots. Hadn’t she been wearing tennis shoes earlier?

  He rewound the tape and studied the footage, his pulse spiking. Yes, the woman with the scarf had worn tennis shoes in the previous shot.

  Why would she change her shoes?

 
Unless it wasn’t the same woman...

  Could Amanda be right? Was their unsub a female, maybe a former classmates who held a grudge?

  * * *

  AMANDA MET THE crime team at the door to Suzy’s condo and explained the situation. “Any forensics you can find might help stop this guy.”

  They went straight to work while she finished combing Suzy’s computer files. Suzy was active on social media, but most of her posts pertained to business and her active social life. Apparently she had hit the million-dollar sale mark at work, traveled to Europe constantly, and liked to shop online at expensive boutiques.

  Amanda faintly remembered her once saying that she wouldn’t be caught dead in a department-store find or in a dress that another girl might own.

  Amanda searched for a boyfriend and found several flirtatious notes between her and a man named Syd who lived in London, but nothing definitive. Another flurry of notes discussed the upcoming reunion with Kelly, Julie and Lynn.

  She found a photo gallery of old high school candids in a file that had been organized into a slideshow accompanied by music. It seemed to be intended to be shown at the reunion dinner. One shot captured her attention—Suzy in her prom dress standing beside her date.

  Amanda immediately zeroed in on the corsage.

  Violets, just like the ones floating in Suzy’s tub.

  She scrolled through the photos again, searching for signs of a classmate who might be jealous of Suzy and the other cheerleaders, but no one stuck out. Most were shots of pep rallies, dances, ball games and couples at parties.

  Another photo showed Suzy, Julie Kane and Lynn Faust working the kissing booth at the county fair. In the background, Amanda spotted Donald in his wheelchair watching from a distance, looking sullen.

  A bad premonition tightened Amanda’s throat. Julie and Lynn were the next victims. She knew it in her soul.

  She checked the latest emails Suzy had received and found one from Julie telling Suzy to meet her at the malt shop where they used to hang out as teens.

  Amanda punched Justin’s number. “I might have something.” She explained about the email.

  “Meet me downstairs and we’ll go together,” Justin said. “If the email was a lure to get both Julie and Suzy at the same time, and they met, maybe we’ll find a witness who saw one of them.”

  Amanda’s pulse clamored as she told the head of the crime team where she was going. Justin met her in the lobby, and they rushed outside to the squad car. She started the engine, praying she was wrong, that Julie hadn’t been abducted along with Suzy.

  * * *

  LURING SUZY AND Julie to the diner had been brilliant. Neither one had suspected a thing.

  Suzy would be appalled to know that everyone would see her looking so pale in death. Normally her makeup was perfect. Now mascara streaked her cheeks and her skin was a pasty yellowish white.

  And Julie...ahh, Julie, the prom queen. She had expected to return in full glory, showing off the fact that she’d married her high school lover and accumulated a fortune.

  But money and looks hadn’t saved them.

  Now everyone in town would see them as they should have all along. Silly, ugly girls who gave nothing back to the world. Silly, ugly girls who’d hurt others.

  Silly, ugly girls who’d had to die.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Images of Suzy and Julie haunted Amanda—images of them dead.

  She had to hurry.

  “Call information and get Julie’s telephone number,” she said. “If the unsub doesn’t already have her, we need to warn her.”

  Justin snatched his phone from his pocket and stabbed the number for information while she sped from the condo development and veered onto the highway leading back toward town.

  Darkness bathed the rugged landscape between the two towns, worry gnawing at her. Julie’s phone rang over and over, but no one answered. Finally the message machine clicked on, and Justin left a voice mail asking Julie to call the sheriff as soon as she received the message.

  “I have a bad feeling we’re too late,” Amanda said.

  “No one has reported Julie missing,” Justin pointed out, offering her a tiny thread of hope to cling to.

  “That doesn’t mean she’s safe,” Amanda said. “Did you find anything on the surveillance tapes?”

  “Maybe. There’s a cleaning service that works the building. I saw them go in and out of several units. There were three women and a man. Later, I saw a woman go in Suzy’s condo who looked suspicious.”

  “How?”

  “She was wearing a scarf like the woman in the cleaning group, but this time she wore black boots instead of tennis shoes.”

  Amanda jerked her gaze toward him. “You think it was a different woman?”

  He nodded. “She might have been the one to trash the place.”

  “Could you tell who it was?”

  “Didn’t get a look at her face. She kept it hidden from the cameras,” Justin said. “But I asked the guard to courier it to the lab for analysis. Hopefully they can do something to help us identify her.”

  It was a long shot, but with technology today, they could look at different angles, shadows, reflections, enhance the image...

  Amanda took the turn on two wheels, then braked, reminding herself that an accident would only delay the search. But as she wove through town, the fear in the pit of her stomach intensified.

  Memories of watching Suzy and Julie cheer flashed back. The class picnic before graduation. The floats for the homecoming parade.

  The football win celebrations at the diner.

  And the dances at the gym and local party event center. A center Lynn’s mother owned and ran.

  She squeezed the steering wheel tighter and made the turn into the square, noting that the diner was practically empty tonight, the dinner crowd having thinned out. With people starting to come into town for the reunion, she was surprised there weren’t more cars.

  If the suspect was following the time line—a countdown—he or she might be planning their endgame for Saturday night.

  She had to put an end to this before anyone else in her class died.

  * * *

  JUSTIN’S GUT TOLD him that Suzy was already dead and Julie might be with her. But he refrained from commenting, not wanting to add more pressure on Amanda.

  She looked strained and exhausted, and the case wasn’t over yet.

  She parked in front of the diner, gold and orange lights forming the name, a string of green ones in the shape of a cactus decorating the door. The place looked like a cross between a Mexican cantina and an old-fashioned soda shop, he noted as they entered and he saw the orange vinyl booths and stools at the bar.

  “Why would they choose this place to meet?” Justin asked. It certainly didn’t look like the martini bar he’d imagined the women frequenting.

  “Because this was the old hangout spot in high school,” Amanda said. “Teens used to come here after all the ball games. They still do.” She pointed to the menu. “No alcohol, but they have the best burgers and milkshakes of any place I’ve ever been.”

  His stomach growled. “Maybe we should grab something while we’re here.” They hadn’t bothered to break for lunch.

  “You can order us some burgers while I talk to the owner, Max, and his wife.”

  Justin slid onto a bar stool and picked up a menu. He ordered three burgers and two fries, his gaze scanning the room. An elderly couple sat in a corner booth sharing a chocolate malt. Three middle-aged women had huddled in another one chatting and laughing as they shared coffee and pie.

  Teenagers eating burgers and drinking sodas and shakes sat to the left, half of them glued to their cell phones while the others were griping about a school project that was due soon and that nobody had even started yet.

  Deciding he’d let Amanda question the owner and waitress, he went to look around. A hall led to the restrooms so he headed that way, but he didn’t see anything suspicious. Not that he’d
expected to find a body in the hall, but he had considered that the perp might dump Suzy outside.

  He noted a back door and pushed at the knob. It swung open to an alley with a Dumpster.

  His breath whooshed out in relief. Suzy’s body hadn’t been left here.

  Maybe she was still alive.

  * * *

  AMANDA APPROACHED MARY LOU, Max’s wife, where she sat refilling napkin holders at a table near the kitchen.

  “Mary Lou, can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Sure, Amanda. I mean, Sheriff.” The older woman clucked. “Lordy, I can’t get used to seeing you in that uniform. Seems like yesterday you were in here drinking chocolate shakes and doing algebra.”

  Amanda forced a smile. It seemed like eons ago to her. “I still love those shakes.”

  Mary Lou smiled. “Your daddy did, too. God rest his soul.”

  A pang of longing seared Amanda. She still missed her father every day. “I’m sure you heard about Kelly Lambert’s death.”

  Mary Lou closed the napkin holder. “So sad. I can’t believe she was murdered and left at the school like that. What kind of person would do such a thing?”

  “That’s why I’m here, Mary Lou. We believe that Suzy Turner is missing now.”

  Mary Lou gasped, one hand flying to her chest. “Oh, no. Not Suzy.”

  Amanda wanted to soothe her, but she couldn’t lie. Not now. Not when they needed everyone in the town’s help to find this unsub.

  “We searched Suzy’s place, and discovered that someone trashed her condo. We also found an email indicating that she was supposed to meet Julie here to discuss the reunion plans. Were they here yesterday?”

  Mary Lou filled another napkin dispenser. “I don’t think so. At least not during the day. But let me ask Myra. She worked the night shift.”

  Mary Lou used her cell phone to punch the woman’s number. “Myra, did you see Suzy Turner or Julie Kane in the diner yesterday?” A pause. “No? All right. Thanks.”

  She hung up and turned to Amanda. “She said they didn’t come in last night.”

  Amanda frowned. If the emails had been a lure, the assailant could have caught them outside. But how would the unsub force two women to go with him? Or her...