Ever Present Danger (18 page)

“Convenient, don’t you think?”

“What?”

“Who’s to say you didn’t leave the reunion, slip into Room 312, and catch those three guys off guard: Bam. Bam. Bam.”

“Come on, I never left the Aspen Room except to go to the bathroom!”

“Can you prove that?”

Bill rubbed the stubble on his face. “I guess not.”

“What’s your relationship with Ivy Griffith?”

“We went to high school together. She recently moved back to Jacob’s Ear, and we’ve become friends. I sent her flowers when a friend died the other day.”

“Have you ever seen her socially?”

“No. But I’d like to.” Bill smiled. “I’ve always had a thing for her.”

“She used to date Pete Barton, right?”

“In high school.”

“Must’ve made you jealous.”

Bill folded his hands on the table. “Not the way you’re thinkin’. Everybody knew no one besides Pete was ever gonna get to first base with Ivy Griffith. She was
every
guy’s fantasy. Ask around.”

“I intend to. So’d you fantasize about her?”

“I lusted. What can I say?”

“Do you still?”

“Sure. Is that a crime? I told you I’d like to go out with her. I asked her, in fact. She said she’s not datin’ anyone right now. She’s tryin’ to get over losin’ her friend.”

“It seems odd to me that if you find her so attractive, you didn’t sit with her at the reunion.”

Bill shifted in his chair. “She’d made arrangements ahead of time to sit with someone else.”

“That would be Pete, Reg, and Denny, right? The fab four. Isn’t that what everyone called them?”

“Yeah. I suppose they just wanted to relive the good old days. Isn’t that what reunions are all about?”

Bobby leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “What about you? What’d you go there to relive: Rejection? Name callin’? Pain? Look, Bill. I know Pete nicknamed you Icky Ziwicki. Everyone knows. I have to ask myself why you’d want to go back and face that—unless you wanted to get even with Pete. Maybe even kill him.”

“No way! He made me feel lousy, all right? I got over it.”

“Who ever gets over being laughed at?”

“When you’re not a jock or anything special, you get called stuff. You can either let it make you tough or let it get to you. I chose to get tough.”

“You just let it roll off your back?”

“That’s right.” Bill looked intently at Bobby. “Look, I’m not a kid anymore. I know who I am. I have my own business. I own my home. I’m certainly not dependent on what Pete Barton thinks of me to make my day.”

“Really? Then what does make your day?”

Bill’s face turned red and he suddenly seemed at a loss for words. Finally he said, “I guess the hope of settlin’ down someday with a woman who loves me. Havin’ kids. Doin’ all the normal stuff.”

“And maybe having a crack at Ivy Griffith now that Pete’s out of the picture?”

“Stop twistin’ my words! I like Ivy. I’d like to date her. Do you really think if I’d killed those guys, I would mess with her mind by lettin’ her walk in there with all that blood? Do you really think she’s ever gonna get over what she saw? I’d be cuttin’ off my nose to spite my face. I may be lonely, but I’m not stupid.”

“Pete thought you were stupid.”

“He never said that.”

“That’s the way he treated you.”

“And that’s the way you’re treatin’ me! You think I don’t know
what you’re tryin’ to pull?” Bill sat back in his chair, his chin quivering. “What do you want from me? I already told you everything I know.”

Bobby smirked. “Sure you did. You think
I’m
stupid?”

The door flung open, and Buck Lowry entered the room. “Hey, Bobby, how about giving the guy a break? Why don’t you take a walk around the block or something?”

Bobby pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. “Whatever. I’m done talkin’ to this clown.”

“Bill, I’m Investigator Lowry. Can I get you something to drink? Or maybe a breakfast biscuit?”

Bobby came out of the interrogation room, shaking his head. “I don’t know what to think. I actually feel sorry for the guy. Doesn’t seem like he’s hidin’ anything.”

“I hate making victims of the wrong people,” Flint said. “Let’s move on to another classmate. At the rate we’re going, we’re not going to get any sleep tonight either.”

ON SUNDAY EVENING, Ivy Griffith sat at the kitchen table with her parents, staring at the floral print on the tablecloth and wondering why her father had seemed so solemn when he asked her to come talk to them.

“This has been one incredible day,” Elam Griffith said.

Ivy put her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her palms. “I still can’t believe they’re dead.”

“I hate having to bring this up right now,” Elam said, “but I don’t anticipate there being a better time in the near future, and I think it’s crucial that we’re all on the same page about a few things.”

“Like what?”

“Your financial struggles, for starters. And what you’re doing to get a handle on it.”

“I’ve been up-front about that. I’m saving the money I’m making at the café, and when I have enough for the deposit, I’ll get an apartment. I’m not planning for us to stay here long, if that’s what you mean.”

Elam stroked his mustache and seemed to be lost in thought. Finally he said, “There’s no easy way to ask this, so I’m just going to say it outright: Did you steal a tube of lipstick from the drugstore? Yes or no? I suggest you think carefully before answering.”

Ivy felt her face get hot. “I was going to go back and pay for it.”

“Really? And when were you planning to do that?”

“As soon as I got paid. But then Lu died and I got distracted. You think I’m in the habit of taking things that don’t belong to me?”

Elam’s gaze seemed to bore a hole in her conscience. “How would I know what you’re in the habit of? First you drop out of sight for a third of your life, and then waltz back in here without telling us about Lu’s situation. I find out from Harriett Barclay that you’re stealing. And now you’re in the middle of a triple homicide investigation. I’m not sure I even know you anymore.”

Ivy blinked the stinging from her eyes, but a runaway tear trickled down her cheek. “You
can’t
believe I was involved in the shooting!”

“I didn’t say I did. But your mother and I need to know who it is that’s living in our house. I can’t stand by you if I don’t trust you. I’m not going to put up with lying and stealing.”

“I already told Mom why I didn’t tell you about Lu. I was afraid you wouldn’t let her come here, and I couldn’t leave her to die alone. I couldn’t afford the rent by myself.” She got up and tore off a paper towel and wiped her eyes, then sat at the table again. “I took the lipstick when I went to meet Reg and Denny because I felt ugly, and I thought it might help. I didn’t have eight dollars to buy it then. I’m sorry I took it. I’ll go back and tell Mrs. Barclay what I did and give her the money.”

“ASAP, I trust?”

Ivy nodded. “I’m sorry, Dad. I’m really trying to change.” Ivy swallowed the emotion and hated that her lip was quivering. “It’s surprising what you learn to justify when you’re used to being desperate.”

“Well, you’re not desperate as long as you’re in this house. There’s no cause ever to steal, you hear me? I won’t have it. And don’t lie to me again.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Does the boy steal, too?”

“No!” Ivy shook her head. “Montana doesn’t know anything about it. I’ve always taught him to be honest. You can’t tell him
about the lipstick. You just can’t!”

“I’m not planning to tell him anything. This is between you, me, and your mother.”

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I’d
never
encourage Montana to do anything wrong.”

“He’s a well-behaved little boy,” Carolyn Griffith said. “It’s easy to tell he’s been loved and cared for.”

Elam glanced over at Carolyn, and his face softened. “I want to think the best about you, Ivy. I truly do. But I won’t settle for less than complete honesty. Are we straight on that?”

“Yes.”

“I’m shocked and sorry about what happened to your friends. There’s no doubt in my mind that Flint’s going to catch whoever killed them. In the meantime, he thinks we need to consider that you might be in danger.”

“Me?”

“The four of you were pretty tight. Maybe you ticked somebody off way back when.”

Or someone figured out who killed Joe and took the law into his own hands!
Ivy’s heart raced so fast she felt light-headed.

“Honey, you look exhausted,” Carolyn said. “Why don’t you go on to bed? I’ll take Montana to school in the morning, and you can sleep in. At least you’re not scheduled to work tomorrow. It’s just as well.”

The only thing heavier than Ivy’s eyelids was her heart. “I can’t get their faces out of my mind—and all that blood. I wish I had never gone looking for Pete.”

“Well, until the sheriff figures out what’s going on,” Elam said, “I don’t think you should be alone. Just as a precaution.”

“Dad, I work. I need to take Montana to and from school. I have a life. I can’t just put everything on hold till Sheriff Carter catches whoever did this.”

“No, but your mom and I can be available to drive you.”

“You can’t put your lives on hold either.”

Elam lifted his eyebrows. “We can do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

Sheriff Flint Carter sat in his office with FBI Special Agent Nick Sanchez, Lieutenant Bobby Knolls, and Investigator Buck Lowry, exhausted but satisfied with the progress they had made since involving the FBI in the investigation.

“Nick, thanks for everything you’ve brought to the table,” Flint said. “And especially for acting so quickly and efficiently. There’s no way this department could’ve mustered enough manpower to investigate the murder scene and interview all the reunion attendees.”

“Not
quite
all,” Nick said. “A guy named Ronnie Unger was at the reunion, but we haven’t been able to locate him. He must’ve left before the shooting. He’s not at his apartment in Mt. Byron, and his estranged wife doesn’t know where he is. Neither do his parents or his brother.”

“You have reason to suspect him?”

Nick shrugged. “Don’t know enough about him yet to have an opinion. But if we can’t catch him at his apartment tonight, we’ll be on his employer’s doorstep first thing in the morning.”

Nick reached for a small stack of papers and handed one to each of the others. “Okay, people, here’s what our profiler worked up on the perp: Male. Introverted. Experienced with firearms. Highly skilled at concealing his emotions, especially anger. Had a personal ax to grind with at least one of the victims and regarded the shooting as a public service. He lives in his own fantasy world where he can turn off the emotional pain, perhaps in response to being rejected or abused by a parent or caregiver early in life. He lacks the social skills to form healthy relationships and probably has a trail of broken relationships. He’s neat and methodical and deliberate in his approach to life. He’s smarter than everyone thinks he is—and he knows it.”

Flint perused the profile and then said, “How do we begin to identify someone like this?”

Nick sat back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest. “Process of elimination. We know the evidence points to just one
shooter, and none of the classmates tested positive for gunpowder residue or blood spatter, which certainly lowers the probability that our shooter was present at the reunion. Of course, Unger is still a question mark.”

Bobby blew a pink bubble and sucked it into his mouth. “The shooter could’ve worn gloves and changed his clothes.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Lieutenant,” Nick said. “Also, we matched the bullets that passed through the victims and lodged in the walls to a Glock .45 used in a convenience store robbery two years ago in Fort Collins. At that time, it was registered to a doctor who had reported it stolen the month before. It’s never been recovered.”

“So the murder weapon was hot,” Bobby said.

Nick smirked. “No big surprise. The shooter was careful not to leave fingerprints or DNA at the scene, and it stands to reason he’s not going to let us trace the murder weapon back to him.”

“So where do we start?” Flint said.

“We narrow down the list of classmates to the ones who fit any part of the profile and then start digging deeper. And we locate Unger ASAP.”

Ivy lay in the dark, staring at the moonlit ceiling, and was struck with a bold new thought. Did it even matter if she confessed the truth about Joe’s death now that his killers were dead? It’s not as though she could prove what really happened.

“The truth will set you free, Ivy girl,”
Lu had said.
“Just confess it to God and accept His forgiveness. He’ll be with you when you tell the sheriff. You can never go wrong doing the right thing.”