Glancing at the clock on the dash, she decided it was time to get back to Mahoney’s house and have a chat with her. Afterward, she would haul ass back to the cemetery.
She pulled in front of the house just as a woman parked in the driveway. The woman was older and plumper than she remembered, but there was no missing Becky Mahoney’s tall frame and bleached-blond hair.
Out of her car, she shouldered her backpack and hurried across the residential street. “Becky!”
The woman’s head turned, and the automatic smile dimmed a fraction as Nikki got closer. Her eyes narrowed. “Do I know you?”
“We met years ago. I’m Nikki McDonald. I was a reporter for Channel Five in the DC market.”
Becky’s face flushed as she drew back, tightening her grip on her keys and purse strap. “I haven’t been up there in years. And I don’t talk about the time I lived up there.”
“The news might not have reached you yet, but Marsha Prince’s remains were found.”
“I never had anything to do with Marsha’s disappearance.” Becky moved toward her front door, her hands trembling slightly as she tried to insert her house key.
Nikki noticed the bicycle in the front yard and the basketball hoop in the driveway. “I’m not trying to wreck what you have. It looks like you’ve moved on and left Larry in the dust.”
Becky’s shoulders hunched and her fingers stilled. “I have moved on. I choose not to think about Larry or his family.”
“Please, talk to me,” Nikki said. “I’m trying to figure out who killed that young girl.”
“What difference does it make?” Becky said, whirling around. “She’s dead, her parents are dead, and Hadley moved west years ago.”
“Hadley moved back with her husband and daughter about a year ago. And now she and her kid are missing.”
“What do you mean?”
“The cops are swarming all over her house as we speak. My sources tell me the interior is covered in blood.”
Becky’s face paled. “I don’t know anything about that.”
“We can’t save Marsha, but maybe Hadley and her daughter can be helped.”
Her annoyance seemed to slip away. “One doesn’t have anything to do with the other.”
“I’m not so sure about that. One sister is dead, and the other is in grave danger.”
“I made a mistake with Larry,” she said, stepping forward. “I thought I loved him and he me. But it was all a lie. I know what people thought about me, what you insinuated in some of your stories, but I never thought he had anything to do with his daughter’s disappearance.”
“You told the cops he was planning to leave the family for you.” She had to strike a delicate balance. She wanted Becky to keep talking, but she also didn’t want her sensitive questions to shut her down.
Her brows knotted. “I was wrong.”
“I’m wondering if he figured the easiest thing to do was to get rid of his family. Maybe he started by killing Marsha, but for whatever reason, he lost his nerve.”
Becky’s mouth flattened into a frown as she shook her head. “That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Larry didn’t like his wife, but he loved his girls.”
“Someone messaged my website and told me exactly where to find Marsha Prince’s remains.”
Becky folded her arms over her chest. “That must have been a great scoop for you.”
“I’m not going to lie. I could use a great story right now. But I keep thinking about Marsha. She had her whole life ahead of her. And now that Hadley and Skylar are missing, I wonder if the same person who killed Marsha is involved.”
Becky shoved out a breath. She did not invite Nikki inside, but she also didn’t disappear behind the now-opened door.
“Marsha worked in the office that last summer, right?” Nikki asked.
“Yeah. She took orders and even went out to price some of the jobs. Larry called her his smart daughter.”
“How’d Hadley feel about her father not considering her as smart?”
“She never said anything, but I could see it bothered her. Marsha tried to downplay her father’s compliments for Hadley’s sake.”
Nikki shifted tactics, knowing if she pressed on the crime, she would lose Becky altogether. “What was Hadley like in high school?”
“She seemed real sweet, but it all felt a little calculated to me. She worked in the front office in the afternoons when we needed the phones covered. I remember she could charm any customer.”
“She was dating Mark then, right?”
“Yeah, Mark. They had been dating since junior year of high school, and we all thought they would get married. Larry wasn’t crazy about the idea, but he liked Mark enough not to complain.”
“Was she dating anyone else?”
“Well, no, not really. She loved Mark.”
She could hear a small hesitation. “But?”
Becky was silent for a moment. “Hadley flirted with some of the guys. They were all fit, and some were cute. I think she went out with one guy.”
“Do you remember his name?”
“No.”
“What about Marsha? Was she dating anyone?” Nikki asked.
“Several of the guys had a thing for her. She was cute and nice.”
“Any names come to mind?”
“No.”
“Did the sisters go out with the same guy?”
“Yeah.”
“And you don’t remember his name?”
“No. I’ve done my best to forget about that entire time in my life.”
“Did the two sisters get along?”
“No, not really, especially after their father told Hadley he wasn’t sending her to college right away. She was furious with her father and Marsha.”
“Would she have killed her sister?” Nikki asked.
The woman slowly shook her head. “I couldn’t imagine Hadley getting her hands dirty like that.”
“Would she have had someone else do it?”
“No. No. Hadley wasn’t a killer.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do.” Becky opened the door wider. “Look, I’m married now to a good man, and I have a son. I don’t want to get dragged back into all that mess. I don’t want them to know about Larry.”
“I won’t pull you into this story. I’m just trying to figure out what happened to Marsha.”
She shook her head. “You said something like that to me the first time, and then my name was all over the news.”
“If I could just ask a few more questions—”
“No. I’m done. Don’t ever come back.” Becky slid behind the door and slammed it closed.
Nikki stared at the pineapple ornament attached to the door. It was not lost on her that the adornment symbolized hospitality. It certainly was not the first door slammed in her face, nor likely would it be the last.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Tuesday, August 13, 12:30 p.m.
Alexandria, Virginia
Just over Five Hours after the 911 Call
Vaughan parked in front of the ten-story office building where Roger Dawson worked. This strip of Duke Street straddled the new business district, filled with modern high-rise offices, and Old Town’s historic section. The former was home to law firms, associations, and corporate headquarters; the latter was packed with brick and clapboard buildings originally built by tobacco traders generations ago.
Spencer matched his pace as they walked inside the sleek tiled lobby to the security desk. Each showed their credentials, and the guard on duty pointed them toward a bank of gold-plated elevators. The doors opened, and Vaughan pressed six.
“Is this the firm that Foster works for?” Spencer asked.
The elevator doors closed, and the car ascended. “No. I’m not sure how Mark figures into all this,” Vaughan said, “but I can’t wait to find out.”
Each kept their theories to themselves as the elevator stopped and then opened to a large gilded sign that read WEIDNER AND KYLE. A receptionist verified their identification, escorted them toward the corner office, and knocked on the closed door before cracking it and saying, “Mr. Dawson. The police.”
“Send them in.”
Vaughan and Spencer entered and found themselves staring at a lean man wearing dark suit pants, a white shirt, and a blue tie. His dark hair was thinning, and thick round glasses magnified owlish dark-brown eyes.
A dozen diplomas hung on the wall, and a mahogany credenza featured Dawson in various scenarios, including a shot with Hadley and Mark Foster.
When the door closed, Dawson asked, “Tell me what is going on with Hadley. And where the hell is Mark? I called him after I got off the phone with you, and he’s not picking up.”
“Mr. Foster is in the hospital recovering from surgery,” Vaughan said.
“Surgery? Has there been an accident?”
“Mr. Foster was attacked in his home at about seven o’clock this morning,” Vaughan said.
“Jesus. Is he all right?”
“He appears to have suffered superficial wounds,” Spencer said.
“Where are Hadley and Skylar?” Dawson asked.
“They’re missing,” Vaughan said. “We’re hoping you might be able to tell us where they might be?”