“Why didn’t you?”
“After I knocked, I searched for Thomas in the backyard and saw him beside the lake with Naomi and Scout. Thomas was embracing Naomi. They looked so happy together. I’d waited too long.” Chelsey waved a hand through the air. “Not that it matters. Naomi is a kind woman, and Thomas deserves someone like her. I eliminated my friends from my life again.”
The pieces fell into place in Raven’s head. She slapped her forehead.
“I’m still here, and Thomas and Naomi aren’t together.”
“But I saw them on the shore.”
“No, you saw Thomas offering Naomi a job. She’s running operations at Shepherd Systems now.”
Chelsey slung her hair off her face and creased her forehead.
“What?”
“Naomi fell into financial straits over Scout’s medical bills. The poor woman lost her health insurance and accepted part-time jobs to put food on the table. Thomas recognized her value and brought her aboard. Chelsey, they were celebrating her job. They’re not in a relationship.”
For once, Chelsey was speechless.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Sunday, August 15th
6:20 p.m.
Legs extended as he sat on the deck, a notebook computer balanced in his lap, Thomas scanned the digital case notes. There were no days off, no weekend breaks until he found Trooper McBride’s killer and figured out who captured Justine Adkins and Paige Sutton. He wanted to believe the women were still alive. With so much blood spilled across the blacktop, he knew in his heart the attacker murdered Paige. But where was Justine?
He didn’t trust Cathy Webb. But he also doubted her motivation to avenge Dawn Samson. Sure, she wanted justice for her cousin. But murder? If anyone wanted Dawn’s tormentors killed, it was Alec Samson, the brother no one had heard from in years. Thomas needed a fresh perspective on Cathy Webb, a different opinion.
Dawn’s junior year photograph filled his screen. Her kind, thoughtful eyes made Thomas wonder why anyone would hurt her.
Curtains fluttered inside LeVar’s house as hip-hop thumped from the stereo. Which meant Scout was inside. The two shared recommendations on their favorite hip-hop artists, weighing the merits and weaknesses of each musician. The debates often turned into arguments, yet always ended with Scout and LeVar laughing.
Thomas carried his laptop to the guest house and knocked. The music stopped, and LeVar poked his head out of the door.
“Sorry, Chief. We too loud for y’all?”
“Not at all. I’d like your expert opinions on something.”
“Well, then. Mi casa, su casa. Literally, since you own the place.”
Thomas followed LeVar into the sitting room. Scout sat before the computer, the Wolf Lake High alumni website open in the browser.
“We’re on the same wavelength this morning,” Thomas said, gesturing at the monitor.
Scout shared a look with LeVar.
“We reached a dead end,” she said. “I copied every message posted by Cathy Webb. Now I’m unsure where to go from here, or how to connect Webb to Skye Feron.”
“What if I told you the skeleton in the park didn’t belong to Skye Feron?”
They swung their heads to Thomas.
“For real?” LeVar asked.
“This stays between the three of us. We’re not ready to release our findings to the press.”
“We got you.”
“I won’t say anything,” Scout said, nodding in agreement.
“So who’s the girl in the state park?”
Thomas shifted his jaw and sat at the card table.
“I wish we knew. Something tells me Cathy Webb is involved. But we don’t have evidence implicating her.”
“Is she the person who killed that state trooper?”
“Possibly,” Thomas said, though it didn’t feel right. He opened his laptop and tapped the screen. “The issue is Cathy Webb’s background. Her history is as much a black hole as Dawn Samson’s brother’s is.”
LeVar took the chair across from Thomas and set his muscular forearms on the table.
“How so?”
“Webb grew up in Syracuse, graduated high school, then skipped college and moved outside Wolf Lake after Dawn’s suicide.”
“Okay.”
“Thereafter, she moved Alec Samson into her house. A few years after that, Alec Samson’s driver’s license expired. No tax returns, no income. He disappeared.”
“So how is his background similar to Cathy Webb’s?” asked LeVar.
“Cathy Webb’s license lapsed two years ago. She pays her taxes. Other than that, nobody knows her. She’s just a hermit living outside the village.”
“What happened to Dawn Samson’s brother?”
“Webb claims Alec moved to Alaska.”
“Sounds like dude is running from something.”
Scout scrunched her face in thought.
“Is it possible someone murdered Alec Samson too? What if we’re looking at this from the wrong angle, and the person who killed Skye also killed Alec?”
“What was the killer’s motivation?”
LeVar snapped his fingers.
“There are two killers. Check this out. So Alec Samson goes crazy after his sister’s suicide and gets revenge on her bullies by killing Skye. Then someone avenges Skye and murders Alec, hiding his body where nobody will find it.”
“That makes for a good story,” said Thomas, sitting back and clasping his hands over his belly. “But I’m not buying it. We can’t even prove Skye Feron is dead. Why would Alec’s killer target Paige and Justine next?”
The room turned quiet as LeVar and Scout considered the question. Outside the window, a motorboat raced across the lake and churned the water.
“Maybe we’re asking the wrong question,” said LeVar, sitting forward. “What made Cathy Webb turn into a recluse? Was she a loner in high school, or did something terrible happen to her? There must be some reason she became a hermit.”
Thomas pushed a hand through his hair.
“Interesting idea. I checked Cathy Webb’s yearbook. She doesn’t have a class photo, so perhaps she really was a loner.”
“Doesn’t mean she’s not in the yearbook,” Scout said, wheeling around to the computer. “Kids miss their portraits all the time.”
Scout typed at light speed and pulled up the digital yearbook from Webb’s high school. As Thomas and LeVar watched, Scout scrolled past the portraits and skipped ahead to the athletic teams and clubs. Thomas scooted his chair forward as Scout paused over a student government picture. Five girls and three boys gathered around a table. The school banner draped over
