She’d been so naïve then. So willing to please that she’d have done just about anything. Only later did she realize that Lisa had approached Eva because of Eva’s reputation as a math wiz. She’d been no more valuable to the girls than a calculator.
“Well, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Eva turned toward the familiar voice and smiled when she saw Sally sitting at her favorite bar stool. “Why are you so pale and ghostly looking? You sick, honey?”
Eva shook her head as she wiped the bar. “The news identified the name of the woman at the fire. Just kind of creeped me out.”
Sally nodded, the laughter dimming in her eyes. “According to the news her name was Lisa Black.”
Eva frowned. “Why was she behind the shelter?”
Sally sat down and scooped a handful of nuts from a bowl. “I don’t know. Seems odd such a high-end girl would find her way to us. But you never know why people end up where they do.”
Her Lisa had come from money. There’d be no reason to seek a shelter. “She doesn’t look like the homeless type.”
“Maybe her issues weren’t money. You’d be surprised what haunts people.”
Eva wasn’t surprised at all. “You’re not going to believe this, but I think I went to college with her.”
“Think?”
“She looks so different. She’s even changed the color of her eyes. But the more I stare at the picture the more this gal and the other seem the same.”
Sally raised a brow. “No kidding? You went to school around here?”
Just cracking the door to her past sent a bolt of shivers through her body. “It was just for my freshman year and it was a long time ago. She looked so different then.”
The older woman’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Couldn’t have been that long. You can’t be more than mid-twenties.”
“Let me place your order. The usual?”
“You take such good care of me, doll.”
Sally’s fishing for information had Eva’s defenses rising. Thankfully, the bar needed her to fill empty beer mugs, deliver a hot dog platter and refresh the peanuts. By the time she’d rung up a few tabs, Sally’s sandwich was ready. Eva set the plate in front of her.
“I’m dying to know more,” Sally said. “I mean, what are the chances that you’d know a dead woman.”
“Yeah. What are the chances?”
“So dish. Tell me about her. What was she like in college?”
The old barriers rose into place. Silly to be so guarded with Sally, but to talk too much about Lisa cracked the door even wider to her own past. And she wasn’t in the mood for scaring off friends or losing a job. Not that Sally would run or King would fire her. But fear didn’t always make sense.
“She was a good student. I liked her. But I haven’t seen her since college. We lost track.”
Sally studied her tight features and, as if sensing Eva’s tension, changed the subject. “I’m already on the hunt for a new place to house another shelter.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Met with the board today and they want to find a new home. Lucky for us it’s an election year. A few local senators want to look like the good guys.”
Relieved to be talking about current stuff, Eva smiled. “Hey, we take what we can get.”
“Yeah. But I’m no good at sweet-talking those hoity-toity folks. I never am all that comfortable around rich people.”
“Join the club.”
Sally bit into her sandwich, nodding her approval. “Good eats as always.”
“I’ll tell King.”
“How is the old man doing?”
“Great.”
“You know I heard something odd about him the other day. ”
“Really.” Eva avoided gossip, even with Sally.
“Did you know that he lost his wife and son in a car accident?”
“I knew of a loss but no details.”
“A drunk driver killed them.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Seems King found the driver of the car and beat him to a pulp. He nearly killed him. King faced attempted murder charges but ended up with parole. Judge said he’d suffered enough. The drunk driver didn’t see a day of jail time or parole.”
Eva shifted, feeling uneasy with the turn of conversation. “I don’t feel comfortable talking about King. This is his business. He doesn’t poke in my life and I plan to stay out of his.”
Sally picked at the edge of her sandwich. “That’s what I like about you, Eva. You judge people as they come. You don’t hold the past against them.”
Garrison and Malcolm waited at the Leesburg crime scene for the county forensics team and hung around until they had processed the apartment and removed the body. It was ten P.M. by the time Garrison dropped Malcolm off at the station. Malcolm bid him good night and slid wearily into his own car.
Tomorrow would prove to be another long day. With luck they’d be plowing through video surveillance and trying to identify the man that had sat next to Lisa before she’d vanished.
As Garrison pulled out of the police parking lot, he considered stopping by King’s and talking to Eva. Something about her kept tickling the back of his brain. He’d learned to not ignore the sensation, but right now with less than five hours’ sleep since Monday night, he understood he needed a few hours of sleep under his belt before he questioned her.
Garrison would have given his left arm just to go home and hit the sack, but he’d promised his mother he’d stop by. Today was the anniversary of his sister’s death and in the last twenty years since Debbie had died, Garrison and his parents always got together, if only for a few minutes.
Debbie had died during her junior year of high school. She’d suffered from cystic fibrosis since birth and keeping her healthy and alive had always been a struggle. Many nights he’d sit up talking to her when her breathing labored. She mostly rambled during those long nights but he believed if he remained at her side death couldn’t snatch her away. He always promised her that everything would be fine. The night of his senior prom, Debbie lay down to rest and her heart stopped. Their mother found her and called 911 but doctors declared her dead upon arrival at the hospital.
Many had assumed that the family would cope easily with Debbie’s death since it had been a part of their lives since her birth. But Debbie’s death had been as unexpected and tragic as any accident. Garrison’s parents wanted him to get on with his life and he’d done the best he could. He’d still played on the football team his senior year, escorted four girls to the prom and had told jokes to anyone who would listen. His mother stepped up her volunteer work and his dad split his time between whatever cases crossed his desk and tinkering with a Ford remodel. For at least a year they’d lived in the same house but had barely spoken to each other.
The anniversary of Debbie’s death had been what had forced them together for a memorial service the school had sponsored. As Garrison watched the slide show featuring Debbie, he’d cried his first tears. His parents had held him as he’d let the sadness flow out like poison.
From that day forward, when he was in town, they gathered on this day.
He pulled up in front of the brick rancher, got out of his car and slammed the door. He reached the front door in three quick strides. He knocked and then opened the door. “Mom, Dad, Carrie?”
His mother poked her head out of the kitchen door. “There you are. I was getting worried.”
He crossed and kissed his mother on the cheek. “Sorry. But you know how the job goes.”
“Please. I’m married to a thirty-year veteran of the force.” She squeezed his arm. “Only too well. Are you hungry? ”
“Starving.”
“Go on out to the garage and check in with your dad. He’s been working on that car for hours, grumbling about where you are. I’ll bring you out a plate.”
“Thanks. Where’s Carrie?”
“Sleepover at Julia’s. She knows I’m a mess on this day
so she decided to avoid all my sloppy tears this year.”
Mark and Eileen had adopted Carrie just after her fifth birthday. The lost little girl’s parents had died in a car accident. The Garrisons still missed their daughter, but Carrie had fit perfectly into their lives. The little girl had helped heal the wound left after Debbie’s death.
Garrison liked the kid. In fact she reminded him of Debbie—the way she played her music too loud, her talk of clothes and boys and the way she hugged their dad when she wanted something.
“Carrie hasn’t forgotten that you promised to take her to the outlet mall.”
Deacon groaned. “I’d hoped she had.”
“Kid never forgets a promise.”
The idea of schlepping around Potomac Mills Mall with a teenage girl made him want to hide, but he’d keep his word. “Now I remember why I never promise anything.”
Eileen smiled. “Sunday still work?”
“I’m in the middle of a case. It may have to wait.”
“She understands cases. But she’ll know when you’re done with it and are free.”
“That kid is destined to be a cop.”
He grabbed a cookie from a plate beside the stove and headed across the kitchen through the door that led to the garage. He found his father standing beside a workbench organized with military precision. Screwdrivers lined up in descending order like soldiers. Spare parts were boxed in neat little boxes that his father had labeled with a black marker in precise block lettering, and the car that Mark Garrison was restoring glistened as if it had just been washed.