Black Orchid Girls (Detective Amanda Steele)

ELEVEN

Amanda was having a hard time shaking the Somners’ grief… and even her own. The pain of losing a daughter never left. Not completely. After she lost Kevin and Lindsey, it had taken Amanda a long time to rediscover a purpose to life and a reason to get out of bed in the morning. And now she had Zoe. The blond, bright-eyed six-year-old had made inroads into her heart and healed Amanda in ways she’d never imagined possible. The future looked bright again. She would love nothing more than to drop by Dumfries Elementary this minute and squeeze Zoe, but that wasn’t an option.

“That went better than I’d expected.” Trent looked over at her from the driver’s seat.

“Did it?”

He studied her. “It’s never easy when you need to tell parents their kid is dead.”

She held eye contact with him, not about to call him out and ask how many times he’d had the burden of conveying that news. That would just be cruel and bitter. “We’ll grab a coffee and a bite to eat at Hannah’s Diner. Probably by the time we’re done, the Somners will have forwarded the other information we’re after. We have the autopsy at four, but I’d like to knock some things off our list before then. A visit to the boyfriend, for one. I’d also like to stop by my brother’s work to let him see the video before we leave Dumfries. Hopefully, he can ID the car in the park’s lot by its headlights.”

“I’ll be extremely impressed if he can.”

“Prepare to be impressed. Kyle lives and breathes cars.”

Trent put the car into gear, and Amanda got on the line with Judge Anderson to get a verbal subpoena approved for Chloe’s phone history and permission to track the phone. The killer had probably ditched it somewhere, but no stone left unturned, as the saying went. After the call to the judge, she made one to the lab for tracking the phone. She emailed the service provider to request the call history and gave her contact information and Trent’s. It usually took a few days to a week for that information to come through. Hopefully it wouldn’t take that long this time. All she could think about was that strong woman, Melissa Somner, broken before their eyes, sobbing and fleeing her daughter’s bedroom.

The next call she made was to Victim Services to request a counselor go over to the Somners’ house.

By the time Amanda finished with the calls and emails, Trent was pulling into Hannah’s Diner. Not bad. It was ten minutes from Woodbridge to Dumfries, so she’d made record time with her tasks.

Trent got the door to the diner, and May Byrd was behind the counter. She was in her fifties and had a large bosom and an even larger heart. She was also the pulse of the community. If something was going on—as always seemed to be the case—then May knew about it. Owning the diner, and working it until she was run off her feet at the end of the day, made her privy to a lot of conversations among the locals. But that was a small town for you—everyone knew each other’s business. And what May didn’t hear at the diner, she heard from the ladies in her book club. May had even once admitted that she remained part of the group more for the gossip and wine than the book pick of the month.

“Hello there, lovelies.” May was all smiles when she saw Amanda and Trent. “How are you doin’ today?”

“We’ve been better. We’ve been worse,” Amanda said, not about to get into the fact they just had to serve a death notification.

“That’s about all we can really expect. But any day above ground is certainly a good one.” The light dimmed in May’s eyes as if she’d finally picked up on Amanda’s and Trent’s energy. “Guess I should mind what I’m saying, given what you do. Coffees all around, then?”

“Oh, please, and make mine super-duper large.” Amanda smiled, infusing some levity, desperate to shake the residue of death.

“You got it. And you?” May asked, looking at Trent.

“Same.”

May set about getting the coffees, and Trent turned to Amanda. “Super-duper?”

“Hey, you call it Jabba sometimes, so I don’t think you can really judge.”

“Uh-huh.”

When they’d first been partnered, Trent had told Amanda that his younger sister had substituted Jabba for java as a kid,as if she confused the caffeinated beverage with the blob character from Star Wars.

After May returned with their coffees, they both ordered a sandwich and sat in a booth. They started on their coffees while they waited on the food.

“You probably overheard, but I requested a trace on Chloe’s phone. I also sent an email asking for her call history. Hopefully either—or both—will give us something to go on and provide some clues.”

“Not holding my breath on the trace. I’m sure her killer’s not that stupid. He, again assuming our killer is a man, showed organization and planning. I doubt he’d keep her phone.”

“You never know, though, and we need to be diligent.” She didn’t want to consider what it might mean if the killer had held on to Chloe’s phone. Would that mean it was a souvenir, like a serial killer would keep? She took a tentative sip of her coffee. Still a little hot for gulping.

“I’m sure we’ll get somewhere with her call history. Given Chloe’s age, she’s probably quite active on social media. That should help us learn about her.”

“I’m starting to think we can’t make any assumptions about her. You saw her bedroom, her closet. She wasn’t the typical teenager. And she did things because she wanted to, not for recognition.” Definitely an endearing quality.

“One way to find out.” Trent raised his eyebrows, challenging her.

“Okay, let’s see.” Amanda pulled out her phone. “I’ll google her name and see what comes up.”

“My guess is a lot.”

Amanda smiled at her partner and googled Chloe Somner’s name. And she hated to give it to Trent, but he was right. She scrolled down the screen. There were a lot of results. Most of them linked back to some type of social media account, but there were also some articles issued from Geoffrey Michaels University that mentioned Chloe. She clicked on one of these and scanned the piece. From the looks of it, Chloe was quite involved in the community. She was a champion for the environment and vocal about climate change. This was also supported by the event flyers in her bedroom of the family home.

“Here you go.” May set their sandwiches in front of them.

“Thank you,” Amanda said.

“No problem, hon.”

As much as Amanda wanted to just relax and enjoy her food, there was no time for that. They owed it to Chloe to find out who her killer was and bring her justice sooner than later. “Let’s make this quick. We have lots to do.”

They didn’t say much else as they scarfed down their food and swigged back their coffee. During that time Mitch Somner had forwarded the numbers for Chloe’s roommates and the address of the place they had rented with Chloe. He also included a phone number for Josh Ryder but no address for him. Amanda made a call to get a uniformed officer on Chloe’s residence until she and Trent had a chance to get there.

Just twenty minutes after they’d entered the diner, Amanda and Trent were loading back into the department car. The clock on the dashboard read 1:10 PM.

“All right, get us over to my brother’s shop,” she began. “Do you remember where that is?”

“Remember? I was never actually told where he worked.”

“Mack’s Garage. You know where it is?”

“That I do.” Trent put the car into gear.

The ball of anxiety in her chest knotted tighter the closer they got to the garage. She and her brother used to be very close before she’d pulled back from her family and before their mother had killed a man—the taboo subject. Her relationship with Kyle was on the mend, but it was still a work in progress. She just hoped he’d be cooperative and maybe even give them a lead on the vehicle seen on the park video.