Traces of Guilt

FOUR

Evie Blackwell

Evie taped another piece of white easel paper on the wall as high as she could reach. “I made a fool of myself, didn’t I? I’m trying to remember what I said from the time Sheriff Thane found me on the roadside until they let me out of the ER, and it’s an embarrassing amount of blur and sentence fragments. I must have sounded like an idiot, Ann, or maybe even drunk. I’m surprised he’s letting me access the files.”

She glanced over at her friend, but Ann simply smiled and offered another large sheet of paper. Evie moved down the wall and taped it in place. The wall was marked up with nail holes and peeling paint chips, yet it was smooth and would hold the paper. “And how many times did I say the equivalent of ‘you promise?’ to either you or Gabriel? I’ve counted five of them. I’d blush if I wasn’t so mortified.”

“You’re a happy child when you’re concussed, Evie.”

“Ouch. Even the teasing makes me want to wince.”

Ann laughed. “Relax. You made a first impression, and now you’ll make a second one. You’re good at this work. Don’t try to correct things by over-apologizing. Instead, give Gabriel something to contrast it with-the real you, without a brain-rattling crack to the head. You don’t want to swing from ‘slightly out of it’ to appearing as if you’re anxious to impress. Just settle for being Evie Blackwell and you’ll be fine.”

Evie sighed. “My aching sense of pride will take your advice. At least I know it will be hard to make that first impression any worse.” She stepped back and considered the taped sheets. It would work as an improvised crime board. She looked at the opposite wall she’d papered first. “I think we’re good. Nothing’s falling down… yet.”

The post office had interesting décor with its high ceilings, faded paint, and scratched concrete floor. But the long walls, good lighting, and tables made it a better place for laying out two cases than her original intention of trying to set it all up back at the house.

“Where do you want me to start?” Ann asked as she surveyed the boxes.

“Boxes on that wall are the Dayton girl; boxes here will be the Florist case. I’m thinking timelines first, and any photos.”

“Works for me,” Ann said. She opened the first box on the Dayton abduction. Evie dug into the Florist files.

The sheriff would walk in at some point this afternoon, probably with his father and a deputy or two, and Evie would like to have something on the walls so she could avoid eye contact with Gabriel. She would need his help-no one knew these cases better than the local cops-but she still wished she’d been able to say a normal hello to the man before she’d wrecked her car and became a babbling idiot.

This experiment of looking at cold cases needed to go smoothly, hopefully be successful. She sincerely hoped the way she’d arrived on scene was not a precursor to the rest of her time in Carin.

The next few weeks would set the tone for her place on the task force, and she wanted to bring something positive to the table when it officially launched in January. Sharon Noble was recruiting good, experienced cops. Theodore Lincoln from Chicago and Taylor Aims from St. Louis were already definites. Rumor had it David Marshal was coming back from New York just for this. If Ann continued helping out next year, there wouldn’t be a stronger list of names for the assignments ahead.

Evie wanted to play a useful role in that group, learn from them, get the experience that only working with great cops could give. She knew the task force on her résumé could cement the rest of her career, be the reason she might make head of the state Bureau of Investigations one day. She wanted a success here so badly it worried her. Normally solving a case was motivation enough. Having her emotions personally tangled in an outcome just made for stupid mistakes. She’d jinx it herself by trying too hard, or caring too much about the impression she was making, miss something because her mind was distracted. “Ann?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me to shut up. I’m thinking too hard.”

Ann laughed. “The case?”

“Haven’t even gotten that far yet. I’m still wandering around in task-force stuff. How did I end up getting picked for this? To represent the State Police? Did you put forward my name?”

“Your boss likely looked around for someone young enough not to care about the long hours without extra pay, tough cases with incomplete records, relentless reporters and public scrutiny, someone who could face explaining to the governor why a case isn’t solved. I’d say your name was likely one of two he considered.”

“Oh. Why are you doing it?”

“Because I want to. Why did you say yes?”

“Because I want it.”

Ann grinned. “See? We’re simpatico, you and I. Do you want to talk through the Florist case today or the Dayton girl?”

“I was thinking we’d look at the Dayton case when you get back Tuesday. For now I’d like to take advantage of the initial curiosity about what’s going on to get people talking about the Florist case. Most of the deputies worked the original disappearance, or at least one of the subsequent reviews of the case.”

Ann nodded. “That makes sense.”

Evie taped up photos of the Florist family. Scott and Susan Florist, their young son, Joe. A deputy, his wife, and their boy, all three missing. Scott was a good-looking man, his wife’s smile reflected in her eyes, and she looked happy. The boy had a grin full of mischief.

Evie’s hand traced across the three photos. If she felt her mind wandering to the task force again, to her place on it, she had only to look at the photos to bring herself back to what really mattered. She wanted to find out what had happened to these three people. There was extended family in this town who needed answers. She took a deep breath and felt herself settle in for the duration. This was what she was good at, right here, working a case.

She found a marker and to the left of the photos drew a long line across the length of the wall. Midpoint she scored the line and wrote down the date of the disappearance. She didn’t know if the answers to the case would be found in the information before or after that date. The trigger for why a crime happened often rested days or weeks before it occurred. The actions of the guilty party after a crime were often just as revealing. Sometimes it was a combination of both that helped her figure out the puzzle.

She gingerly picked up the first box, her stiff back complaining, and carried it over to a table, took a seat, and began to sort out the contents, looking for information and facts she wanted to highlight on the timeline.

“Evie,” Ann called over, “the list of open questions-do you want them first thing on the wall as people come and go, or do you want them deeper in the room so someone has to walk past all the gathered facts before they get to the questions being asked?”

“Deep in the room would be best. I don’t want to have to explain to curious deputy George or family member Flo how come I want the alibi for the sheriff the night the Florist family disappeared.”

“Ouch.”

“Too tough?”

“Nope. Work it hard and work it deep.”

Evie nodded, kept turning pages in the file. She fully intended to do just that.

Half an hour later, Evie turned away from adding a date to the timeline, saw the sheriff through the glass just before he pulled open the door, and made a point of sitting back down at the table and pulling over some paperwork, giving it her attention.

“Hey, Ann,” Gabriel said as the door closed behind him. “I recognize the Dayton case. That wall is already looking useful.”

“It’s getting there. It’s a simple case for the most part. She was a beautiful child.”

“That she was.”

“We need more office supplies-Post-it notes, yellow pads of paper, pens, tape, markers. Where do you recommend I get them?”

“Tell Iris. Shopping for office supplies makes her day.”

Ann laughed. “I may tag along with her. A good color variety stack of Post-it notes makes my day too.”

Evie heard Gabriel crossing the room in her direction and glanced up. He was in uniform, carrying a folder, very much the sheriff with similar appeal today as when she was a young girl thinking uniforms made the man.

“Hello, Evie.” His opening was friendly, and she heard not a trace of humor about her post-accident demeanor, a point in his favor. He leaned against the table beside her. “How’s the headache?”

Her head was still painful, and the stitches pulled-not what she wanted to admit. “It’s not aching like it was,” she answered with some caution.

He smiled, no doubt recognizing the dodge. “We’re bringing in a big cooler that we’ll keep stocked with ice and soda. Consider it a perk of the job and help yourself. The root beer is local and excellent, but if you get tired of it and prefer other types of soda, we won’t razz you that much.”

She relaxed a touch more, appreciating the one-of-the-guys tone more than she would like to admit. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“You and I have some business to complete.” He placed papers beside her. “The police report on the deer you hit for your insurance company.”

She flipped pages, saw photos, winced. “I didn’t remember it being this bad.”

“You were fortunate to have been able to walk away from it,” he commented, his tone now serious. “Give it a read and sign the last page. You can hand it back when you next see me. You’ve got a nice buck you earned the hard way if you’re interested in venison. Henry hauled it in to be butchered.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass. I don’t mind barbecued venison steaks, yet under the circumstances it doesn’t seem quite appropriate. Henry’s welcome to the buck in exchange for his time dealing with it.”

“I’ll let him know,” Gabriel said. “Your car is at Aaron’s Auto Shop. He can arrange to ship it to the garage of your choice, or he can work with Thomas over at Crane’s Body Shop and get the work done here. I’ll vouch for the fact they know what they’re doing.”

“If they can fix it within the next two weeks, I’d just as soon get the work done locally. I can get by with a rental.”

“Aaron thinks about a week plus-I’ll tell him to get started. The place next to Aaron’s is a used-car dealer. Ben will give you a week-by-week rental if only to be able to tell the next customer, ‘It’s been driven for the last week without the engine having a problem.’ I wouldn’t buy from him because most have been in prior wrecks-he likes to buy very cheap and mark up double, but he’s honest about it. You could pay more at a name-brand rental company if you like, get something without the history, or take a chance with Ben.”

“You’re steering me towards him.”

“Well, he’d be a first cousin to the missing Detective Scott Florist.”

“Ah, then Ben it is.”

“Thought you might agree.” He held up a set of keys. “For the yellow convertible parked outside. I figured you wouldn’t mind the flash.” She walked over to the window to look at the car. “Consider it another perk for the vacation,” he said behind her. “It didn’t leak oil on the way over here, which is a good sign. Stop by and sign the paperwork with Ben sometime before the end of the week. You’ll be able to angle the conversation over to the case while you’re there.”

She blinked, laughed. “Thanks. That’s an excellent-looking car.”

“Sure is. Just FYI-knowing the sheriff isn’t going to get you out of a speeding ticket. We need every fifty bucks we can get for the town’s budget.”

She pocketed the keys he offered. “I’ll try to remember.”

“City and county maps,” he said as she returned to the table. He laid them beside the accident paperwork. “Don’t get lost. There’s a GPS in the car, but I wouldn’t trust it for the back county roads.”

“Okay.”

“Your dogs are fine with Will. He’d like to keep them another few days, if that works for you, to make sure their bruises are fully healed. I marked his place on the map.”

“I spoke with him earlier today. I’m grateful to him. I just hope they haven’t already changed loyalties.”

He chuckled. “Will likes to tend things.” He pulled a phone out of his shirt pocket. “I brought you a spare office phone. We’ll spot you some minutes in return for your time on our cases. It’s GPS-tagged so I can always find you. It will get you through until you can get yours replaced.”

She turned the phone over, saw the number taped on the back. “Very useful. I’ve been borrowing Ann’s.”

He set another sheet of paper on the table. “Phone numbers you might need. Local stuff, Florist family relatives. Speed Dial One gets you me. Two is Josh. Three for Will. If we can’t answer a question for you, we’ll know who around here can.”

“Why are you being so helpful?”

“I’ve decided I like you,” he said lightly. “Maybe it’s the green eyes.”

She didn’t reply. He spun car keys around his finger and turned toward the door. “I’ll be back in about an hour. You want to start by talking through the Florist case?”

“Yes.”

“Honey cashew chicken for dinner or beef fried rice?”

“Both.”

“I’ll bring enough to feed Dad too should he wander in. Let him know.” He disappeared out the door.

Evie picked up the last thing he had left on the table. A roll of sweet-tarts. She thoughtfully opened the end of the roll and slipped one out.

“And you were worried about first impressions because…?”

“Shut up, Ann.”

Ann laughed and settled on the chair across from her, held out her hand. Evie passed over the candy. “Was that normal Gabriel Thane?”

“Pretty much.”

“I think I can turn down the heat in this place. He must have been born flirting with his nurses.”

“He does have that effect,” Ann agreed.

“Think he killed the Florist family?”

“I think you can mark him off the list. I wouldn’t assume the same for his deputies.”

Evie looked across at Ann. “Ouch.”

“Look hard and look deep,” Ann repeated.

“Yeah.” Evie slipped another sweet-tart from the roll. “I see why you like the Thane brothers. Josh is the one I haven’t met yet, but from what you’ve said, he sounds like a nice guy too.”

“He’s more laid-back than Gabriel and Will, probably goes with being the youngest.” Ann glanced at the time. “I’m going to head back to Chicago earlier than planned if you think you’ll be all right on your own here.”

Evie smiled. “I’ll be fine-thanks for all the help, Ann, getting me this far.”

“No problem. I’ll be here early Tuesday morning. If you solve either case while I’m gone, I’ll buy the hot fudge sundae.”

Evie nodded in appreciation of the subtle encouragement. “An excellent motivator. Call me when you land so I know you’re safely home.”

“Will do.”

Ann collected her jacket and briefcase and headed out.

Evie had the post-office building to herself. She tapped her foot on the cement floor and heard the echo. She wrote radio at the top of her to-do list.

She walked over and locked the door, then turned to the mostly blank crime wall she was filling and looked at the neatly stacked boxes waiting for her. “Okay, Florist family. What do you have to tell me?” She carried another box over to the table, pulled out her chair, and opened the top folder.

She finally felt as though the chaos of her arrival was ending and life was getting back to normal. She had a case to work. That felt really, really good.