Jennifer Ralston sits perched on the loft apartment stool, her booted heels locked behind the stool’s footrest. She looks around the city apartment, studying the exposed brick, unfinished dusty rafters, and tall framed windows overlooking the James River and the city
’s north side. In her hands, she cradles an RVA mug filled with hot green tea. Though Gina paid the ultimate price, we each lost a piece of ourselves that night.
“Is the microphone rolling?” Jennifer looks at my recorder.
“Yes.”
“Is it cold in here, or is it me?”
“I know this room can be drafty. Can I get you a blanket?” I start to get up.
“I’m fine. I’m always chilled. A quirk, I guess.”
“Why are you always cold?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t felt warm or safe since Gina’s disappearance. I probably should have gotten counseling, but my mother thought seeing a shrink was a sign of weakness. I’m an adult now and know what Mom said is BS. And I’m not weak.”
“No, you’re not.” I smile in what I hope is a reassuring way.
“Did you get help?”
“I did. But only last year.”
“Why did you wait so long?”
“I wish I knew. I packed my life with activity to dull the pain. To forget. I finally realized if I didn’t drop the baggage, it would consume me.”
“So you decided to undertake your own investigation as a catharsis?”
“That’s right.” Pages flip in my notebook. “Jennifer, what do you remember about Gina?”
Jennifer’s laugh is lighter. “The usual. Nicest girl. So popular. Always a kind word. I used to joke if you looked perfect up in the dictionary, you’d see her face.”
“What were we talking about that night?”
“You should know. You didn’t drink at first.”
The point of me coming to Virginia was to get sober. I was just trying to keep it together. Not drink. But the temptation was too great. And in all honesty, I didn’t like sobriety and all the memories it didn’t suppress.
“Teenage girls. We must have been talking about boys.”
“I suppose. That night is still a blur for me. Whatever we were drinking was loaded.”
I hesitate. “You and Erika told the cops I brought the spiked lemonade.”
I see her visibly stiffen, and she doesn’t respond.
“I’m not trying to get anyone into trouble. I just want to find Gina.”
A long silence. Finally she answers.
“Yeah, I brought it.”
“It made sense to blame me. I was the most likely to, right?”
“Something like that.”
“Did you spike it with Ecstasy?”
“No! I didn’t. And I don’t know who did.”
I believe Jennifer on this one, happy at least one lie about me has been dispelled. But I don’t dwell. This isn’t about me. “You called your sister to come pick you up, right?”
“That’s right. I could barely walk. So Ashley drove down to the river and picked me up. Erika hopped in the back with me at the last second.”
“Do you remember anything else?”
“Lying in the backseat of the car. My sister was pissed.”
“At you?”
“Someone else.” Jennifer looks confident about this. “I think she was arguing with someone on the phone.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. I assumed it was her boyfriend, because they fought a lot. But I passed out and didn’t wake up until the next morning. I was in my own bed and wearing the clothes I had on from the night before, but I have no memory of arriving home. The cops were at our house, and all hell was about to break loose.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Saturday, March 17, 2018; 5:45 a.m.
Near-freezing rain dripped on the windshield as he parked across from Erika Travis Crowley’s big white house. This upscale neighborhood didn’t really stir until about six thirty, and a rain-delayed Saturday slowed them all the more.
However, Erika kept to a rigid, eerily predictable schedule. She didn’t leave her house very often, but on Saturdays she exited her front door at exactly the same time and made the three-mile drive to the small yoga studio. She found comfort in keeping her world contained. Her house was her fortress from the truth. She’d betrayed Gina.
A check of his watch showed it was almost showtime.
Killing Jennifer had been exhilarating, and his body still buzzed with adrenaline. He readily accepted it was his job to dish out her punishment, but he’d not expected to enjoy it so much.
It was smarter to wait before he dealt with Erika and Kaitlin, but the morning rain was too perfect to pass up. Rain washed away so many sins. Better to deal with them now. He’d punish Erika accordingly, and for Kaitlin he had a special windowless room.
The front door snapped open. Black yoga pants and a fitted blue top covered by a snug gray jacket silhouetted a body kept ruthlessly in shape. Socks and clogs warmed her feet. Blond hair was tied into a sleek ponytail reminiscent of her times as part of the Glittering Trio at Saint Mathew’s. Gina, Jennifer, and Erika had been at the peak of the school’s social pecking order, and they knew it.
As he inched lower, the torn vinyl on the seat rubbed against his T-shirt. The magnetic sign on the side of the truck read TURNER PLUMBING. The letters were in red, a color easily remembered if anyone were watching. He’d stolen the truck and would soon ditch it.
Erika’s Mercedes pulled out of the driveway, and he followed. He watched her race through a yellow light and then turn abruptly at the corner ahead.
He stayed several car lengths behind, careful to keep her in his sights. He knew where she was going, but today it was important he be there when she arrived.
He watched her pull into a parking spot near the back entrance of the yoga studio. Repeated observation revealed she preferred this spot because she could slip inside through the back door. That was Erika. She didn’t like to interact with people much anymore.
He slid into the space beside Erika, parking within inches of the passenger side of her car. He opened his door and smacked it hard into the sleek, polished navy-blue finish, leaving an angry white scratch.
She glanced up, alarmed. For a second, she just sat there staring at him. And then she ducked her head against the rain and hurried around the car. Keys clutched in her hand, she studied the jagged white mark in the side door of her car as the rain dripped on her hair and shoulders.
“What have you done?” Her voice was high pitched and rippling with stress. “My husband is going to have a fit when he sees this.”
Tugging a ball cap forward, he slid out of the car and made a show of studying the scratch. “Wow, did I make that?”
“Yes, you did. What the hell, why weren’t you thinking?” She folded her arms over her chest, her teeth already chattering a little. As she looked toward the studio door, her shoulders tensed. The clock was ticking, and she was going to be late for class.
“I’ve a rag and some rubbing compound. I bet once I’m done with it, you’ll never know there was a scratch.” He moved to the back of the truck and opened the camper top.
Her jaw clenched as she shook her head and ran her finger over the jagged surface before following him. “You can’t buff a deep mark out. It’ll have to go to a body shop.”
“Naw, I can fix it right up.” He grinned as he rummaged for a tool in a dented red toolbox.
“You can’t just rub it out!”
A car pulled into the parking lot, but the female driver barely tossed them a glance as she rushed through the rain into the building, a green yoga mat tucked under her arm.
She was inches away now. Mad. Spouting frustration. Closer. Closer. And then she ducked her head under the raised camper top. They were nose to nose.
Erika’s demeanor changed. “Is this some kind of a joke? I told you we’d meet later.”
He slid his hand into his pocket, removed a syringe, and plunged it into her arm. “No joke, baby.”
She flinched and recoiled, dropping her keys onto the wet parking lot. “What the hell?” Already her words were slurring.
“I’m changing the plan. You’re going to help me get Kaitlin.” He picked up her keys and hi
t the trunk release on her car.
Her knees buckled as she tried to steady herself against the truck.
He wrapped his arm around her and shuffled her toward the open trunk of her car. Her response was an incoherent mess, but it didn’t matter.
Not now.
He drove twenty minutes north to the deserted parking lot of a closed gas station on Route 1. Weeds sprouted from the cracks in the asphalt, and the windows of the garage were covered in brown paper. He drove around back and parked next to his truck. Moving quickly, he opened the car trunk and truck’s camper top.
Erika lay on her side in the trunk, her body curled into a fetal position. It would be hours before the drugs were out of her system. He quickly lifted and placed her body in the back of the truck, then taped her wrists and ankles before he covered her with a tarp.
The drive to his house took a half hour. He was careful to watch his speed and put his blinker on each time he switched lanes.
When he pulled up to his home, he pressed the garage door button, and when it opened he carefully drove into the clean, neatly organized space. The door closed behind him.
Out of the cab, he walked to the back and opened the camper top. Now that they were alone, he had the time to admire her. He pushed back a lock of her blond hair. Her soft perfume wafted around her. She was beautiful. She’d kept her body fit and trim, and she was always dressed to perfection.
Now he was going to strip that perfection away. Like Jennifer, it was time to be punished. He lifted her into his arms and carried her into the house and downstairs to a darkened basement room. He’d been in this room so many times getting it ready for her, he didn’t need light to know where to step or where to lay her. He knelt and settled her body on the cold floor.
He kissed her on the cheek, wishing he had time to linger. “It’s time to pay for your crimes.”
She appeared to frown, but she didn’t open her eyes. He left her unconscious, locking the door behind him.
Normally Saint Mathew’s wouldn’t be open on a Saturday. But today was Saint Patrick’s Day and also one of the school’s biggest fund-raisers, which was scheduled for this afternoon. When Kaitlin had called the principal, Dr. Williams had agreed to meet her at the school before the hectic day began.