TWENTY-ONE
“Did you folks sleep well?” Ida went from table to table in the small courtyard, serving coffee to her guests and offering fruit and freshly baked muffins. “We made these this morning,” she told everyone. “My grandson picked the berries himself late yesterday afternoon.”
“And how ’bout you folks?” She smiled at Portia and Jim. “Everything satisfactory?”
“Perfect.” Portia smiled.
“Absolutely,” Jim assured her. “I can’t remember when I had a better night.”
“Good, honey. I’m glad to hear that.” She patted him on the shoulder and moved on to the next table.
“A perfect night followed by a perfect morning.” He rubbed the inside of her wrist with his thumb.
“Please, Counselor,” Portia feigned protest. “We have a ferry to catch.”
“There’s another this afternoon.”
She laughed, knowing that he had to get back to his life as surely as she had to return to hers. As if on cue, her phone rang, causing the others in the courtyard to shoot her dirty looks. She glanced at the number of the incoming call.
“Hey, Will. How’s it going?”
“Great, good. Listen, I only have a second. I’m late for a meeting.” Portia could have guessed that. Will was always the last to arrive. “I found the woman you were looking for. The one in Vegas.”
“You found Rhona Davey?” she whispered excitedly.
“It’s Rhona Naylor now. She left Mr. Davey in the dust a long time ago. Along with Mr. Fogarty. But yes, I found her. Write this down.”
“Hold on, let me find a pen.” She opened her bag and began to search. A second later, she said, “Shoot.” She wrote down the address and the phone number.
“You are the best, buddy,” she said sincerely. “You are the absolute, positive best.”
“Truer words were never spoken. Let me know if you need anything else. Gotta go.”
“I take it that was your soon-to-be brother-in law,” Jim said after she ended the call. “And that he found Rhona.”
“Rhona is two husbands past Mr. Davey,” she told him. “No grass growing under her feet.”
“She must be some woman.”
“I’m going to call John and make arrangements to fly to Vegas today before she runs off to one of those wedding chapels and changes her name yet again.”
“I’m sorry I won’t be able to tag along. I’m sure it will be…interesting.”
“Yes. I’m thinking it will be.”
“Well, if you’re finished, let’s head to the dock to wait for the ferry. I can tell by the look in your eyes that you’re eager to get on with it.”
“I am, yes.” She touched her napkin to the corners of her mouth and pushed her chair back. “I’ll make my call to John on my way to the dock. And I guess I should try Annie again, find out what she thinks about this latest twist.”
“You mean the second killer.”
She nodded. “My gut is telling me he isn’t finished.”
“You think he’ll kill again?”
“I think he’s just getting started.”
The ride back to Miranda’s house was quiet, the mood quite different from the drive to the ferry. The previous tension between Portia and Jim had been broken. Their new relationship was fraught with uncertainty and a new tension all its own. Portia had never been into one-night stands, but she was hesitant to read too much into what had happened between them on Dufree Island. Better to let it take its course, she told herself as the Jag buzzed along the interstate, better to go where it leads and not try to force it. She sighed, thinking of how awkward intimacy could be between people who were just starting to really know each other.
“What?” Jim asked.
“What what?” she replied.
“What’s making you so pensive?”
“Oh, just thinking about things.”
“What things?” He reached for her hand. “Tell me what things so I can think along with you.”
Portia smiled. “Actually, I was thinking about…”
Her phone rang. She checked the number before answering. “Hey, John.”
“Sorry I missed you earlier. I just heard from Lisa Williams. Her mother is in the hospital, so they’ve had to postpone Christopher’s memorial service for a few days. She said she’d get back to me and let me know when they’ll be having it.”
“Will Mrs. Williams be able to attend?”
“We’re all hoping. It would be a damned shame, after all these years, if she wasn’t able to see her son laid to rest.” He cleared his throat. “So how’d it go with the brother?”
“All right. I can’t say that he shed any real light on Woods, but I did find out who all the fathers and stepfathers were. At least, I think I did.” She shifted in the car seat and gazed out the window. “I need to go to Las Vegas. I’d like to make the trip as soon as possible.”
“I’ll see what we can do. You may have to fly business class, and you may have to wait until tomorrow.”
“As long as I get there.”
“What’s in Vegas?”
“Sheldon Woods’s mother. Nicholson says he doesn’t know anything about Sheldon having been abused. I couldn’t get a good enough read on him to know if he was lying or not. But he seemed…” She searched for the word she wanted. “Smirky whenever he spoke about her. Whether that was because he was embarrassed by the number of times she’s been married, I don’t know. I think we know of six or seven husbands and a couple of live-ins.”
“What’s the point of this trip, Portia?”
She frowned, put off by his question. “For one thing, I want to find out if she knows who was abusing her son. I think his abuse was what started him down this path. For another, I think we need to know her if we want to know him.”
“We do know him,” John told her. “I’ve known him for years.”
“You don’t know who he confides in. Who knows his secrets. Who knows where he buried the bodies,” she reminded him. “But someone does, and that’s the person we need to find.”
“You think his mother can point you to that person?”
“No. I don’t think there’s been any contact between them for years. Her name doesn’t appear on the visitor’s log, so we know she hasn’t been to see him since he was incarcerated.” She hesitated. “I just have this feeling that somehow she’s at the bottom of it all.”
“You might want to talk to Annie after you’ve met with the mother.”
“I’d planned on doing that.”
“This most recent victim…what do we know?” he asked.
“All I know right now is that the boy’s been identified as nine-year-old Josh Winston and the state is handling the case. They’ll get back to me with their findings.”
“And the other remains there in Lancaster—were we able to determine whose they were?”
“Just as Woods said, it’s Joseph Miller. That’s been confirmed by his parents. They were able to identify him from some old leg fractures.”
“Good. That’s good.” He sighed. “Now, about the other boy—the second boy from the grave where you found Christopher Williams…”
“Nothing on him yet. But I haven’t given up. I will find out who he is. I want to send him home.”
“Well, let’s see how many more we can send home.”
“That’s my goal, John. That, and maybe nailing Woods for a murder he doesn’t have immunity for.”
“Give Eileen a call in about an hour or so. By then she should have flight arrangements made for you.”
“Thanks. I’ll call her when I get back to Miranda’s.”
She kept the phone in her hand even after the call had ended, thinking about how she’d approach Rhona and what she’d say to her, when she realized the car had stopped. She looked up and found they were parked in front of Miranda’s house.
“Oh. We’re here already,” she said.
“Time flies when you’re having fun.”
“I was having fun, thank you.”
“For the past ten miles, you’ve been far, far away.”
“Vegas. Arrowhead Prison. Swell places like that.”
“I wish I could go with you to meet Woods’s mother.” He turned toward her in his seat and took her hands. “As a matter of fact, I wish I didn’t have to leave you at all.”
“But you have that tee-ball game today,” she reminded him.
“Oh, yeah.” He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “I have just enough time to pick up Finn and get him to the field. Thanks for the reminder.”
“You would have remembered. It’s important to you.”
“So is this.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth. “Call me when you get back from Vegas.”
“I will. Thanks for going with me yesterday.”
“You have to admit, I was of no use at all to you with Doug Nicholson. You could have gotten to him on your own. But I wouldn’t have missed it. Not for anything.”
“Me either.” She opened the car door and got out before she said anything else. Best to just let it be for now. “I’ll call you.”
She walked around the car and crossed the street, turning and waving to Jim before hurrying up the walk and unlocking the door. She waved again when he passed by and entered the house, thinking how she couldn’t wait to change her clothes, since she’d been wearing them since the previous morning.
She closed the door behind her, oblivious to the old brown coupe that pulled from its parking space across the street and faded into the line of traffic behind Jim’s Jag.