Her Last Word
Page 61

He took a westbound exit, drove past a mile’s worth of strip malls, and headed toward open country. They drove for ten minutes before he slowed. Automatically she unzipped her backpack and pulled out her phone.
“No recordings.”
“Just a description of the area for later.”
“Until the case is closed, no recordings.” When she readied a rebuttal he said, “Do you always press the boundaries?”
She shrugged and put her phone back in her backpack. “Every chance I get.”
“Not here. Especially not today.”
She would play nice because she needed to see this to the end. “Fine. No recording.”
His gaze traveled over her. “What’re your plans after you finish this podcast?” he asked.
“Good question. I have lots of contacts in Dallas, so I can return and find work fairly easily.”
“Is that what you want? To go back?”
“I don’t think so. I have about six months’ worth of savings, and if I’m careful, I won’t have to rush the decision.” She looked out the window toward the rolling land. “I’ve been here before.”
“When?”
“About a month before Gina vanished. There was a party here.”
The road grew bumpier, and he slowed down the car so the ruts weren’t as jarring. “Who owns the property?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask a lot of questions back then.”
Looking out of the car, she stared at the yellow crime scene tape rippling in the wind. The sky above was dark, and the plump clouds were heavy with rain. The wind skimmed over the top of the sprouting new green grass, and her skin tingled with unease. She wrapped her arms around her midsection. She edged closer to Adler.
“Gina loved her country parties,” Kaitlin said. “My aunt wasn’t crazy about us going.”
“She had cause to worry. Out here if something went wrong, no one could get in or out quickly.”
“I only came once on the Fourth of July. Randy and Derek shot off fireworks. There were a dozen kegs and fifty kids here.”
“Where was Gina?”
“She and her ex-boyfriend spent most of the night together. They looked like they were having intense conversations.”
“Were they fighting?”
“No. They still had feelings for each other, and breaking up was harder than Gina imagined.”
“Were Erika and Jennifer here?”
“They were. Jennifer had a date with Larry Jenkins.”
“I didn’t realize they were romantic.”
“It was just the one date.” Being here and talking about the past released a flood of emotions. “We might be on the verge of finding Gina, and I’m terrified.”
“That’s natural.”
“I’ve made so many mistakes,” she said, more to herself.
“When I visited with Hayward, he talked about the night Gina vanished,” Adler said.
“Did he admit he took Gina?”
“No.”
“Did he say if someone else was on the road that night?” she asked.
“No.”
She breathed in deeply. “He had to have had help that night.”
“He’s not giving us any details beyond Gina’s location.”
“I wish I could have saved her.”
“You were intoxicated and a confused, scared kid. You were no match for this guy.” He stopped and leaned in. “You could have stayed hiding in Dallas. Instead, you sobered up and came back here. We wouldn’t be this close to finding Gina now if not for you.”
“Was it worth the cost if Jennifer and Erika had their lives taken?”
He touched her arm. “You’re not to blame. You were the only one who gave a shit to reopen this case.”
A gust of wind cut through the tree branches heavy with spring buds. They followed a narrow path through the woods into a clearing. There were a dozen cop cars from city, county, and state, the medical examiner’s state forensics vans, and a shiny black Lexus.
“Everyone’s here,” Adler said, parking.
She scanned the crowd for Hayward. “I don’t see him.”
Adler came around the car and joined her. “He’s in the police car. Blackstone is standing by Hayward’s city police car.”
Blackstone wore a charcoal-gray suit, a dark fitted overcoat, and a stoic expression. The age difference between him and Gina had kept him on the periphery of her crowd, but he’d been at that Fourth of July party. Several times that night she’d caught him staring at her. His expression had left her unsettled.
Another well-dressed man got out of an unmarked state car and strode toward Blackstone. They shook hands, but it was clear that tension simmered between the two.
“Who’s that?” Kaitlin asked.
“Trey Ricker. He’s with the Commonwealth Attorney’s office,” Adler said. “He negotiated the plea agreement.”
Adler kept their pace slow as they moved through the grass toward the line of cops. Several officers and sheriff’s deputies shook his hand, welcoming him back to the job. The line finally parted and allowed them access to Hayward’s car.
When they reached the patrol car, Quinn got out and tossed a look of disgust toward the backseat.
“How long have you been here?” Adler said.
“About twenty minutes,” Quinn asked.
“Did Hayward have any trouble finding the place?”
“Nope. He knew exactly where he was going. But he said he wouldn’t say a word about Gina until Kaitlin arrived.” Quinn eyed Adler. “Randy and I did have a chance to chat a bit in the car.”
“That so?” Adler said.
“Of course, we didn’t talk about the Mason case. But I let it slip I had a dog once when I was a kid. You remember me talking about Charlie, right, Adler?”
Adler nodded. “I do.”
“Turns out Randy had a teddy bear named Charlie,” Quinn said.
“Did he?” Adler said.
Quinn shrugged. “Small world.”
Blackstone regarded Quinn closely, then shifted his attention to Kaitlin. “Now that Ms. Roe is here, let’s get this started.”
When Kaitlin was younger, she hadn’t known what to make of Blackstone’s intense looks. Now, she recognized him for the dangerous predator he was.
“I’m ready when you are,” she said.
“Ms. Roe,” Blackstone said. “I wasn’t sure you’d be able to make it after your mishap.”
“Nothing would keep me away,” she said.
“You don’t look well,” Blackstone said.
She smiled and locked on his gaze. “Don’t worry yourself about me.”
Ricker extended his hand to her. “We owe this moment to you.”
“Let’s hope we find Gina,” she said.
Ricker’s frown deepened. “Let’s get started.”
“Remember,” Blackstone said. “My client has complete immunity regarding any and all of the Gina Mason abduction and/or death.”
“Understood,” Ricker said.
Quinn opened the back door of the squad car and hauled out Hayward, who drew in a deep breath, tipping his face toward the cloudy sky.
“Too bad the sun isn’t shining,” Quinn quipped.
Hayward winked. “Baby, it’s always shining when you’re around.”
Quinn gripped his arm even tighter and smiled.