Blood Ties (25 page)

“Maybe. I graduated a couple of years after you. Julie Collins?”

Her chin, just shy of double, raised a notch. “Sure, I remember you. Surprised you recognized me. Been a long time.”

Truth be told, I wouldn’t have recognized her. Nancy had plumped out more than was healthy. Instead of letting my eyes widen in horror at her ballooned shape, I smiled.

“You haven’t changed a bit.”

She blushed with pleasure. “Th

anks. Neither have you.

So, what brings you here? Selling something?”

“No.” I angled my head to Kevin. “Just want to ask you a few questions.”

“Who’s he?” Her hungry eyes raked him head-to-toe.

I guessed she’d gorge on Kevin instead of food if he were on the menu.

“Kevin Wells,” he answered with that knock ‘em dead smile that made women seriously consider disrobing.

Nancy James was no exception. She moistened her pink lips; her fi ngers fi ddled with the collar on her blouse. “I remember you.
You
sure have changed.” Her coy smile turned into a frown. “Hey, wait a minute. Kevin Wells. Weren’t you just out asking my husband a bunch of questions?”

Kevin shrugged and stuff ed his hands into the front 264

pockets of his navy Dockers.

“We’re working a case involving Shelley Friel,” he said.

“We wondered if you’d have time to answer a couple of questions.”

“I don’t know what you want to ask
me
. I was shocked as anyone else to read Shelley had died.” She twisted the keys round and round her pudgy index fi nger. “Are you cops?”

“No,” Kevin said, at the same time I said, “I work for the Bear Butte County Sheriff ’s Offi

ce.”

Kevin grimaced, but it appeared Nancy hadn’t heard me.

She stopped the nervous movement. A smug smile creased her wide face. “Th

en in all fairness, I don’t know

what to tell you.”

Nancy hadn’t known me well enough to remember I never played fair. “You could start by telling me how you live with yourself.”

She blinked in confusion. “What?”

“Doesn’t the guilt eat at you?” Th

e tinny sounds of her

keys echoed; twirl, clasp, twirl, clasp. “What guilt? What are you talking about?”

I leaned in, letting her read my repugnance. “Th e

night at the fair. Seventeen years ago. You remember. You and Shelley, well, mostly you, whooping it up, having a good time?”

She tossed her shiny black hair, shaking her jowls. Eww.

Dressed in a stretchy purple number, Nancy reminded me of Violet Beauregarde, from
Charlie and the Chocolate
265

Factory,
the snotty, privileged girl who’d swelled into an enormous blueberry after chewing forbidden gum. Maybe Nancy’s super-sized body was an attempt to pack away that long ago guilt. It was hard, but I forced myself to give her the benefi t of the doubt.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

And she blew my tiny show of faith with that one mocking sentence. No more playing nice.

“Sure you do, Nance. I wonder what kind of person just takes off when her friend is drunk to the point of unconsciousness? Just so she could go on some silly carnival rides with her boyfriend?”

She turned an interesting shade of green which clashed horribly with the purple.

“How were you supposed to know what happened to Shelley that night? You were too fucking busy getting dizzy on the Tilt-A-Whirl, right? I mean, we’ve all got our priorities.” I stepped closer and dropped my voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “So,
did
you know that Shelley was abducted and brutally raped until she’d blacked out?”

“I didn’t know . . .”

“No. I’ll bet you didn’t even notice,” I snapped. “Did you wonder how she’d gotten home? Did you?” My voice rose. “Or were you glad to be rid of her since she was such an embarrassment to you and your friends?”

“Stop it,” she begged, squeezing her eyes until they disappeared in her fat face.

266

“Or maybe you’re the type that would’ve cared more if they would have killed her? Left her broken body to rot in that fi eld until only forensics identifi ed her? Th en
you

could’ve gotten sympathy, playing the part of the victim’s grieving friend . . .”

“Julie, that’s enough,” Kevin said.

I walked away, toward the skeletal hedge separating their property from the busy street. Anger burned; I knew my face looked like a ripe tomato about to burst. I couldn’t stand next to Nancy; the urge to slap her overwhelmed me.

I hated the violent streak I’d inherited from my father and did everything in my power to control it.

It didn’t do any good that I blamed Nancy; apparently she didn’t blame herself. How diff erent would Shelley’s life have turned out if Nancy would have done the right thing and taken Shelley home that night? Pointless to consider now, but it cut me to the quick anyway. Amazing, how one bad decision had the power to ruin so many lives. My hands shook as I lit a cigarette.

Kevin tapped me on the shoulder after I’d viciously ground the butt into Nancy’s manicured lawn. “Come back. She wants to talk to you.”

“Great. I can’t wait.”

Her enormous house was obscenely decorated Laura Ashley-style with fl owers, ruffl

es, bows, and gleaming an-

tiques. Nancy stood with her back to me, staring out the eight-foot tall bay window in the breakfast nook. I slid 267

onto one of the leather barstools at the kitchen counter. An open bottle of Jack Daniels sat by the double sink.

She turned around, empty shot glass clutched in her hand. “You’re right. What I did was wrong. I know I was a completely selfi sh shit. Th

e only excuse I’ll make was that

I was eighteen. We were all self-centered back then.”

I bit my tongue. Some of us more than others. My youthful selfi shness hadn’t harmed anyone beside myself.

Th

at wasn’t the case with Nancy and Shelley.

“What I did was wrong,” she repeated. “I know that now. Believe it or not, I even knew it at the time. But, it didn’t matter. I didn’t invite her with us that night because I was looking for her friendship.”

Kevin said, “Why did you ask her?”

“Because I wanted her to fi ll in for me at the restaurant when Troy and I went camping in Yellowstone. Self-ish? You bet, but she always annoyed the hell out of me.

At the time I’d convinced myself I was doing her a favor.

She’d complained all summer she hadn’t gotten to do anything fun.”

Her nostrils fl ared hostility.

“And what was the fi rst fun thing she did? Got so drunk and obnoxious no one in our group could stand to be around her. So, yeah, maybe it was wrong, but when she went to the bathroom and didn’t come back, I was relieved.” Nancy planted her abundant backside against the polished oak table. “But, I swear I didn’t know about the 268

rape. It never even crossed my mind that something bad could’ve happened to her.”

“But, it did.”

Defi ance shone in her brown eyes. “I didn’t know that until later. Much later. I didn’t fi nd out until about four months ago.”

“How?”

She ate the shell of lipstick off her bottom lip while she debated. “Shelley came to see me. Here at the house.”

“She told us that you hadn’t kept in contact.”

“We hadn’t. After that night at the fair she didn’t come back to work at the restaurant. I left for college a few weeks later. I heard she and Dick had gotten married.

Troy and I lived in Denver before moving back here fi ve years ago.”

“You didn’t ever see her?” Kevin leaned casually against the wall papered with gaudy lavender cabbage roses. “Run into her occasionally?”

Nancy looked aghast. “We didn’t exactly travel in the same social circles.”

I bit my tongue. Hard.

“Anyway,” she fl uttered her hand, “she just showed up here one day.”

“What did she want?”

“For me to convince Troy to let her into the treatment program.” She crossed the room, setting the shot glass in the ceramic sink. “Apparently, Dick doesn’t carry health 269

insurance and she was denied access to treatment.”

I shook my head. “Why would she assume that you could get her into the program?”

Nancy took a deep breath and looked right at me.

“By guilting me into it. She fi nally told me what happened that night. I heard all about the rape, the bad marriage, her drinking and drug problems. Said her mother was willing to pay for treatment, but only in a long-term facility, away from her kids and especially away from Dick.

Th

e Park Foundation is the only one locally which off ers that option.”

“What did you tell Troy?”

She was back to gnawing on her lip. I watched in fascination, meanly hoping blood would stain her whole mouth so I could see if red was more her color than Pepto-Bismol pink.

“Only that Shelley had money,” she admitted. “I played up the fact it was lousy of the foundation to deny treatment when she obviously needed it. He presented her case to the Board and they agreed. But they wanted three quarters of the money up front, the remainder to be paid on her dismissal. Plus, she had to have a physical exam before entering the facility and after her ninety days ended.”

“You didn’t tell Troy anything else?”

She frowned. “No.”

Kevin asked, “Where does Mike Lawrence fi t into this?”

“Mike is the clinic’s physician.”

270

“Is he the one that examined Shelley prior to her admittance?”

Nancy nodded. “I asked him to do it as a favor to me.

And to Troy.”

“So, Troy is still friends with him?”

“Good friends. We’ve stayed in touch with most of the guys we hung around with in high school. Mostly because of Troy. We still do sporting events, and the guys hunt together.”

Bully for them. “Does that group include Danny Christopherson?

She studied me for a minute, a mean tilt to her mouth.

“How well did you know Mike and Danny?”

“Not well. It’s not like I dated them or anything.”

“No kidding?” Her sharp snort of laughter set my teeth on edge. “Yeah, I can see how that’d been tough since they’re
gay
.”

I went utterly still. “Mike Lawrence and Danny Christopherson are gay?”

“Th

ey went from full-backs to full-fl edged fl aming fruits. Not that I care. Th

ey’re great guys.”

Did their largesse include stooping to rape and murder? My eyes met Kevin’s. He wondered too. “How well do you know Charles LaChance?”

Nancy’s gleeful face shuddered.

“Nancy?” Kevin prompted.

“I don’t know him well, but he and Troy are acquainted.”

271

“Anything else?” I pressed.

“Charles is our attorney.”

With the explosion of frills decorating and defi ning her home, I suspected she’d have lousy taste. “According to my sources, Charles spends a lot of time out at the rehab center. Why?”

She lifted her chin and her eyes blazed. “How would I know? He’s Troy’s friend and business associate, not mine.

He hired him because they’ve been pals for years. Not my fi rst choice.” Grabbing a crocheted dishrag from the sink, she scrubbed at a spot on the black marble countertop until it gleamed no brightly than before.

“How good of friends?” I asked.

Nancy whipped the rag back at the sink. “Look. No off ense, but I don’t see what any of this has to do with Shelley.”

Kevin said, “We’re looking at all angles. I think there’s more to it than you’re telling us.”

“I don’t want to get into this. It’s personal.”

I jumped in. “Would it be easier to tell us if I told you Shelley was considering hiring LaChance? He confronted her with the information that he knew who raped her.”

Her

horrifi ed expression wasn’t phony.

But, even that minor blip of humanity didn’t soften my opinion of her. “Your husband’s
pal
wanted to go after Samantha’s biological father for back child support. Not because he wanted justice for the vicious rape or to help the 272

cops fi nd Samantha’s killer. No. His only interest was his cut of the recovered money. Now, both Sam and Shelley are dead. I can see why
your
personal life is so goddamned important.”

Her head swayed back and forth vehemently. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why would you want to protect scum like LaChance?

Especially if you don’t like him?”

Th

e tears welling in her eyes had the reverse eff ect on me. I didn’t feel sorry for her. I doubted she’d ever shed tears for anyone beside herself.

Kevin plucked a pink Kleenex from a dispenser and handed it over. “We aren’t trying to get you in trouble. We’re at a dead-end here. Anything you know that would put to rest this family tragedy would help us, Nancy. Please.”

My partner deserved an Oscar for his moving performance of servitude, since his fury nearly bled from his reddened ears.

She dabbed her eyes and sniffl

ed before directing her

pitiful, hopeful gaze at Kevin the wonderful. “I’ll tell you.

But, if you think you’re going to use this information in some case involving a drunken woman that’s already dead, you’re dead wrong. I’ll deny everything.”

“Whatever you tell us will be kept confi dential,” Kevin assured her.

Nancy clutched the Kleenex and stared straight ahead, neither meeting our eyes nor avoiding them. “Th ree years

273

ago Troy had a serious gambling problem. Deadwood, video gambling, you name it, he owed money everywhere.

He’d blown all of our savings and every penny of my inheritance. We were fl at broke, had a second mortgage on the house and the bank was ready to foreclose. Every time I left my Mercedes I was afraid it’d be gone when I returned.

Inspiring behavior for the head administrator in a business that deals with addictive behavior, huh?”

Her eyes narrowed and she twisted her mass deeper into the table, trying to get comfy.

“To make matters worse, Troy had done some funky paperwork dealing with referrals which put extra cash in his pocket. Charles is on the Board of Directors. He fi gured it out. So, magnanimous man that he is,” she said snottily, “he approached Troy, off ering to help him come clean with the Board. Even negotiated with our creditors.