Her Last Word
Page 40
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“You were with Derek when Jennifer called for a ride home?” Quinn asked.
“I just said that. We were at my parents’ house.”
“What did he do while you went to get the girls?” Adler asked.
“He hung out at my parents’ house and waited for me.”
“How long did it take you to pick up the girls, drop Erika off, and get back home?” Adler asked.
“Fifteen minutes,” Ashley said.
Quinn looked confused. “Fifteen minutes to pick up two drunk girls, drive one home, and then put the other one to bed? That doesn’t sound like enough time.”
“Maybe it was thirty minutes, but it wasn’t that long,” Ashley said.
“But you didn’t have eyes on your boyfriend for at least thirty minutes,” Adler said.
“I heard the television in the family room when we came home, and I saw him seconds after I put Jennifer to bed. He was standing in the kitchen drinking water.”
“How did he look?” Adler asked.
“It’s been so long I don’t remember.”
“You remembered he was drinking water,” Quinn said.
“He was annoyed.” Ashley shrugged. “It was date night, and we both weren’t happy about the interruption.”
“Would it be fair to say you really didn’t see Derek for almost an hour?” Adler said.
Ashley’s face flushed. “What difference do a few minutes make?”
“They could have made a big difference,” Quinn said.
“Jennifer almost lost her college acceptance offer because of all the police scrutiny. Derek was applying to law schools and couldn’t be tarnished by a few missing minutes.”
“Why’re you still covering for him?” Quinn asked. “He broke up with you a long time ago.”
“I refuse to throw him under the bus for a crime that had nothing to do with him.”
“But you can confirm there was an hour when you didn’t know what he was doing,” Adler said.
She frowned. “Yeah, I guess. What does all this have to do with Jennifer’s murder?”
“Maybe nothing,” Adler said.
“Are you any closer to finding my sister’s killer?”
“We’re chasing every lead, Ms. Ralston,” Adler said. “I’ll call you as soon as I have more information.”
“Thank you.”
Adler and Quinn left Ashley standing in her door, staring after them. Inside the car, Quinn said, “She covered for Derek Blackstone.”
“Yes, she did.”
“Supposing on that road fourteen years ago Hayward hurt Gina, panicked, and called his buddy Derek, who races to help his friend. Ashley was Blackstone’s girlfriend and might have known this. An hour is enough time to stash a body in a trunk or a shallow grave.”
“Or Blackstone was the one who hurt Gina, and Randy raced to his aid. We know Randy was in the area at the time. Again, Ashley could have known.”
“Either scenario is a reason to stop Jennifer and Erika from talking to Kaitlin.”
“Hi, I’m Gina Mason, Saint Mathew’s class of 2004! Welcome to the Rebels’ soccer team—district finalists three years in a row!”
The taped voice pulled Erika toward consciousness. Her mouth was dry, and her head ached. Her legs and arms felt as if they weighed hundreds of pounds each.
Finally she found the energy to open her eyes, but was greeted by pitch blackness. She blinked, closing her eyes and opening them again. Was she really awake? Was she blind? Panic cut through her as she felt the cold cement wall and floor.
“Hi, I’m Gina Mason, Saint Mathew’s class of 2004! Welcome to the Rebels’ soccer team—district finalists three years in a row!”
Gina’s voice echoed in the room and sent tremors of fear through her. She moistened her lips as she pressed her back to the wall behind her and slowly rose to her feet. Her legs wobbled and her head spun, forcing her to stand very still until she regained her footing.
In complete darkness, she had no frame of reference. She didn’t know how high the ceiling was or if the ground around her was solid or safe.
“Hello?” she shouted. “Anyone there?”
“Hi, I’m Gina Mason, Saint Mathew’s class of 2004! Welcome to the Rebels’ soccer team—district finalists three years in a row!”
“Hello!” Her growing panic sharpened her tone. “Why am I here? Brad, is this you?”
She thought about the skipped yoga classes and the coffee she’d had with the reporter. Had Brad found out? He’d forbidden her to talk about Gina, but she’d been angry with him and wanted to pay him back.
“Brad, if this is you, I didn’t say anything. I promise, baby.”
“Hi, I’m Gina Mason, Saint Mathew’s class of 2004! Welcome to the Rebels’ soccer team—district finalists three years in a row!”
Gingerly she ran her fingers along the cement wall and inched her foot forward, searching for a way to escape. Her stomach churning, she skimmed carefully along the wall until she reached her first corner. Venturing onward, she moved along until her fingers touched what felt like a door.
Relieved and terrified, she pounded on the door and screamed. “Help me! Please let me out of here!”
She struck the door until her hands bled and screamed until her throat was raw.
“Hi, I’m Gina Mason, Saint Mathew’s class of 2004! Welcome to the Rebels’ soccer team—district finalists three years in a row!”
Exhausted and dizzy, she pressed her palms to her ears and lowered herself to the floor. “Stop it!”
She wrapped her arms around her knees as she tipped her head back against cement. She’d been walled in. It felt like a tomb.
Meanwhile, Gina’s voice played over and over.
INTERVIEW FILE #15
FALSE LEADS
Five days after Gina’s disappearance, the police opened a tip line. Within hours, a trickle of leads turned into a flood. At one point during the investigation, the police department had two officers dedicated to the tip line.
Some tipsters thought they’d spotted Gina alive and well living in southwest Virginia. Others swore the disturbed soil on their farm property was her shallow grave. One woman was convinced Gina was working in a convenience store in Arlington, Virginia, and had amnesia.
The cops followed up on all credible leads. Law enforcement searched vacant lots, farmers’ fields, and abandoned buildings not only in the Richmond area but also throughout Virginia and into the mid-Atlantic region. In the end, none of the information panned out.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Monday, March 19, 2018; 10:00 a.m.
Quinn had found the names of the two girls who had been sexually assaulted two years before Gina vanished. One of the victims, Lily Jackson, had moved to California, but the other, Maureen Campbell, worked as a cop in the state police’s vice unit. She discovered it was Agent Campbell’s day off and arranged to meet her in her Goochland home, forty-five minutes west of Richmond.
Minutes later, Adler and Quinn were in his car driving west, and within the hour he was parking in front of a small brick house on a large wooded lot. The grass around the house was cut, and the trim around the door and windows sported a fresh coat of white paint. They made their way to the front door, and he knocked.
Footsteps in the home moved toward the door. There was a hesitation, and he sensed they were being studied through the peephole. He stepped back and rested his hands on his hips while moving his jacket back slightly so his badge was in view.
“I just said that. We were at my parents’ house.”
“What did he do while you went to get the girls?” Adler asked.
“He hung out at my parents’ house and waited for me.”
“How long did it take you to pick up the girls, drop Erika off, and get back home?” Adler asked.
“Fifteen minutes,” Ashley said.
Quinn looked confused. “Fifteen minutes to pick up two drunk girls, drive one home, and then put the other one to bed? That doesn’t sound like enough time.”
“Maybe it was thirty minutes, but it wasn’t that long,” Ashley said.
“But you didn’t have eyes on your boyfriend for at least thirty minutes,” Adler said.
“I heard the television in the family room when we came home, and I saw him seconds after I put Jennifer to bed. He was standing in the kitchen drinking water.”
“How did he look?” Adler asked.
“It’s been so long I don’t remember.”
“You remembered he was drinking water,” Quinn said.
“He was annoyed.” Ashley shrugged. “It was date night, and we both weren’t happy about the interruption.”
“Would it be fair to say you really didn’t see Derek for almost an hour?” Adler said.
Ashley’s face flushed. “What difference do a few minutes make?”
“They could have made a big difference,” Quinn said.
“Jennifer almost lost her college acceptance offer because of all the police scrutiny. Derek was applying to law schools and couldn’t be tarnished by a few missing minutes.”
“Why’re you still covering for him?” Quinn asked. “He broke up with you a long time ago.”
“I refuse to throw him under the bus for a crime that had nothing to do with him.”
“But you can confirm there was an hour when you didn’t know what he was doing,” Adler said.
She frowned. “Yeah, I guess. What does all this have to do with Jennifer’s murder?”
“Maybe nothing,” Adler said.
“Are you any closer to finding my sister’s killer?”
“We’re chasing every lead, Ms. Ralston,” Adler said. “I’ll call you as soon as I have more information.”
“Thank you.”
Adler and Quinn left Ashley standing in her door, staring after them. Inside the car, Quinn said, “She covered for Derek Blackstone.”
“Yes, she did.”
“Supposing on that road fourteen years ago Hayward hurt Gina, panicked, and called his buddy Derek, who races to help his friend. Ashley was Blackstone’s girlfriend and might have known this. An hour is enough time to stash a body in a trunk or a shallow grave.”
“Or Blackstone was the one who hurt Gina, and Randy raced to his aid. We know Randy was in the area at the time. Again, Ashley could have known.”
“Either scenario is a reason to stop Jennifer and Erika from talking to Kaitlin.”
“Hi, I’m Gina Mason, Saint Mathew’s class of 2004! Welcome to the Rebels’ soccer team—district finalists three years in a row!”
The taped voice pulled Erika toward consciousness. Her mouth was dry, and her head ached. Her legs and arms felt as if they weighed hundreds of pounds each.
Finally she found the energy to open her eyes, but was greeted by pitch blackness. She blinked, closing her eyes and opening them again. Was she really awake? Was she blind? Panic cut through her as she felt the cold cement wall and floor.
“Hi, I’m Gina Mason, Saint Mathew’s class of 2004! Welcome to the Rebels’ soccer team—district finalists three years in a row!”
Gina’s voice echoed in the room and sent tremors of fear through her. She moistened her lips as she pressed her back to the wall behind her and slowly rose to her feet. Her legs wobbled and her head spun, forcing her to stand very still until she regained her footing.
In complete darkness, she had no frame of reference. She didn’t know how high the ceiling was or if the ground around her was solid or safe.
“Hello?” she shouted. “Anyone there?”
“Hi, I’m Gina Mason, Saint Mathew’s class of 2004! Welcome to the Rebels’ soccer team—district finalists three years in a row!”
“Hello!” Her growing panic sharpened her tone. “Why am I here? Brad, is this you?”
She thought about the skipped yoga classes and the coffee she’d had with the reporter. Had Brad found out? He’d forbidden her to talk about Gina, but she’d been angry with him and wanted to pay him back.
“Brad, if this is you, I didn’t say anything. I promise, baby.”
“Hi, I’m Gina Mason, Saint Mathew’s class of 2004! Welcome to the Rebels’ soccer team—district finalists three years in a row!”
Gingerly she ran her fingers along the cement wall and inched her foot forward, searching for a way to escape. Her stomach churning, she skimmed carefully along the wall until she reached her first corner. Venturing onward, she moved along until her fingers touched what felt like a door.
Relieved and terrified, she pounded on the door and screamed. “Help me! Please let me out of here!”
She struck the door until her hands bled and screamed until her throat was raw.
“Hi, I’m Gina Mason, Saint Mathew’s class of 2004! Welcome to the Rebels’ soccer team—district finalists three years in a row!”
Exhausted and dizzy, she pressed her palms to her ears and lowered herself to the floor. “Stop it!”
She wrapped her arms around her knees as she tipped her head back against cement. She’d been walled in. It felt like a tomb.
Meanwhile, Gina’s voice played over and over.
INTERVIEW FILE #15
FALSE LEADS
Five days after Gina’s disappearance, the police opened a tip line. Within hours, a trickle of leads turned into a flood. At one point during the investigation, the police department had two officers dedicated to the tip line.
Some tipsters thought they’d spotted Gina alive and well living in southwest Virginia. Others swore the disturbed soil on their farm property was her shallow grave. One woman was convinced Gina was working in a convenience store in Arlington, Virginia, and had amnesia.
The cops followed up on all credible leads. Law enforcement searched vacant lots, farmers’ fields, and abandoned buildings not only in the Richmond area but also throughout Virginia and into the mid-Atlantic region. In the end, none of the information panned out.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Monday, March 19, 2018; 10:00 a.m.
Quinn had found the names of the two girls who had been sexually assaulted two years before Gina vanished. One of the victims, Lily Jackson, had moved to California, but the other, Maureen Campbell, worked as a cop in the state police’s vice unit. She discovered it was Agent Campbell’s day off and arranged to meet her in her Goochland home, forty-five minutes west of Richmond.
Minutes later, Adler and Quinn were in his car driving west, and within the hour he was parking in front of a small brick house on a large wooded lot. The grass around the house was cut, and the trim around the door and windows sported a fresh coat of white paint. They made their way to the front door, and he knocked.
Footsteps in the home moved toward the door. There was a hesitation, and he sensed they were being studied through the peephole. He stepped back and rested his hands on his hips while moving his jacket back slightly so his badge was in view.
