“And what did that woman say?” Greg leaned closer, his eyes keen. “Were they talking about drugs?”
“Not to my knowledge. If they were, they were using some sort of code.”
“Drug dealers use codewords.”
“I ... .” Genuinely at a loss, Ivy held her hands palms out. “I didn’t hear him say anything. I’m sorry.”
“Well, this is just great.” Greg threw his hands in the air and turned on his heel. “I have to do paperwork if somebody doesn’t show. Do you have any idea how much paperwork that entails? It’s crappy paperwork, too.”
“Boo-hoo,” Alison muttered under her breath, shaking her head.
It took everything Ivy had not to laugh at the woman’s reaction. She had an expressive face, to the point where she went googly-eyed when she shifted her head back and forth.
“Well, get to work,” Greg ordered. “Without Jason here, you’re going to have to pick up the slack.”
“Somehow I think we’ll manage,” Betsy muttered under her breath as she moved to the spot next to Ivy. “Who knew community service could be so dramatic, huh?”
“It’s actually worse than that,” Ivy admitted, glancing around to make sure Greg wasn’t listening. To her relief, only Betsy and Alison were close. “That woman who was here yesterday was screaming at Jason because apparently he took her car and got in an accident with it without telling her.”
“That sounds like Jason,” Alison noted. “He’s a terrible driver. There’s a reason we all let him leave first. We don’t want to get stuck with him behind us. He has a lead foot and pays zero attention to where he’s going.”
Betsy’s gaze was steady as it washed over Ivy’s face. “There’s more that you’re not telling us,” she noted after a beat. “There’s something you’re not saying.”
Ivy hesitated and then blew out a sigh. Jack wouldn’t be happy about her spilling the beans regarding his investigation, but she needed someone to talk it out with. “The dead girl, Sasha Carmichael, she was dating a guy named Jason. We don’t have a last name and we don’t know for certain that she was dating our Jason, but it’s a little suspicious.”
“A little?” Alison’s eyebrows hopped. “I watch a lot of television — I mean a lot of television — and it’s always the person who finds the body who turns out to be the killer.”
Even though she was suspicious of Jason and his motivations, Ivy couldn’t quite jump on the “he’s definitely guilty” train just yet. “I agree that’s weird. We don’t know that it’s him, though.”
“Except he’s not here today,” Alison pointed out. “I mean ... he’ll get in trouble for not showing up. If he was innocent, you’d think he’d show up.”
“He’s Jason,” Betsy pointed out. “The boy has to set three alarms to wake up. I’ve been on different crews with him over the past few weeks and this is hardly the first time he’s been late. He probably overslept.”
“No, he’s definitely a murderer.” Alison pointed her attention toward a small mound of trash. “I knew it the moment I saw him.”
Betsy rolled her eyes in exaggerated fashion until they landed on Ivy. “I know he’s crass and hard to deal with, but I have trouble believing he’s a murderer. It’s not that he’s an upstanding citizen or anything, but he’s too lazy to kill someone.”
“It doesn’t take a lot of effort to run someone off the road and flee,” Ivy pointed out.
“No, but he still doesn’t seem the type.”
As much as she wanted to argue, Ivy had to agree. She wouldn’t have pegged Jason as the violent sort before all the case information started coalescing. “I’m not sure how it’s going to play out. All I know is that Jason isn’t here ... and I want to get through this day without any drama.”
“That would be a nice change of pace, huh?”
THE HOUSE MARLENE FORTIN LIVED IN WAS vastly different from the hovel Jack visited the night before. Apparently the mother’s fortunes had improved while the son’s options had dwindled.
“I sent a couple of uniforms over to search the woods by the house, but it’s doubtful he’s still there,” Brian noted as they walked up the driveway. “I plan to post a uniform there so Jason can’t return without anybody noticing ... but I have no idea what to think about any of it.”
Jack found he was in the same boat. It was a lot of coincidences to swallow, but coincidences didn’t prove guilt. “Ivy was worked up about it. I might’ve let her get me worked up about it, too.” He flashed a rueful smile. “It could turn out to be nothing.”
Brian’s eyes lit with amusement. “Ivy got you all worked up? I’m shocked. I never would’ve guessed.”
“It’s hard for her right now. She just wants to be involved, like she usually is.”
“Well, she’s a little too involved for my taste right now. She needs to get over it.”
Jack heaved out a sigh. “I guess.” He rapped on the door and waited. It only took a few seconds for someone to open it, and the woman on the other side wasn’t what he was expecting. From the files he’d read on Jason (and tangentially his mother), he’d expected a strung-out drug addict with tracks over her arms. The petite blonde at the door wore a pastel suit and featured bright and inquisitive eyes.
“May I help you?” she queried curiously.
Jack and Brian exchange a quick look before the older detective cleared his throat.
“I’m Detective Nixon, ma’am.” He held up his badge by way of proof. “I’m looking for Jason Fortin. He is your son, correct?”
An exasperated expression took over her features. “Yes, he’s my son.” She looked positively furious ... and a bit resigned. “What has he done now?”
“We’re not sure he’s done anything,” Jack replied.
“Oh, please. I raised the boy. I know he likes to find trouble. There’s no sense in lying to me. Just tell me what he did and I’ll try to help you figure out where he is.”
“Just
