You Can Leave Your Hat On (Dressed to Kill #3)

Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

A aron pulled his car into a space in the visitor’s parking at Alfred C. Wyman Middle School in Barbourville and shut off the ignition. “Have your questions ready for the Vanderboegh kid?” Maisey asked.

“Yep. Remember, we’re here as part of the investigation into the alleged embezzlement over in WhitleyCounty. You’re a social worker with the state investigating the welfare of the child.”

“Right,” Maisey agreed with a nod.

“Okay. Here we go.” Aaron opened his door, so Maisey threw hers open and climbed out to join him on the sidewalk. They didn’t even have to stop for the school resource officer―one look at Aaron’s badge and weapon and they walked right in. “Oh, he’d be in so much trouble in WhitleyCounty for letting a deputy from another county just walk right past,” Aaron said.

“But―”

“But nothing. He has no idea why I’m here. I could be a disgruntled parent or the husband of a teacher who’s going through a divorce. He has no idea who I am or why I’m here, and he didn’t ask.” Aaron held the office door for Maisey, then followed her in.

A small woman behind the counter looked up and smiled. “Welcome to our school! May I help you?”

“Yes, ma’am. We’re here as part of an embezzlement investigation in WhitleyCounty. I was wondering if I could speak to a student by the name of MarshallVanderboegh.”

“No, sir. You can’t. He’s not here. He doesn’t go to school here anymore,” she said quietly.

“I see. Do you know where he is?” The woman glanced at Maisey, so Aaron quickly added, “This is my wife. She’s a social worker with CPS, and she’s checking on the child’s welfare.”

The woman seemed to bristle, and that puzzled Maisey. “Could I see some identification, please?”

“Sure.” Aaron pulled out his wallet with his photo identification and Maisey did the same. As soon as the woman looked them over, Aaron asked, “Could we get that information now, please?”

“Certainly. Let me look it up.” She piddled around on the computer for a few seconds, then turned back to them. “He’s in the school system in ButlerCounty, Ohio.”

“Oh! Do you by any chance have contact information for him?” Aaron asked.

“No, but I have a phone number for the school we transferred his records to. I’ll be glad to give that to you.”

Aaron nodded politely. “Thank you. That would be very helpful.”

Back in the cruiser, Maisey glanced over at Aaron as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Are we actually going to Ohio?”

Aaron shook his head. “I’ll get Carly to call the sheriff in ButlerCounty, see if he can get in touch with the Vanderboegh woman and maybe we can do a video conference. But if he wants me to, I’ll drive up there. One way or another, I think talking to her and the kid could unravel part of this mystery.”

“What about me?”

“We need to find out more about Hazel’s personal life. Maybe you could talk to her family. They might be able to give you some insight or some idea of who we’re looking for.”

“Okay. I can do that.” Dread filled her chest. She really didn’t want to talk to the dead woman’s family, but at least maybe she’d find something that would make the case move along. Solving it was a priority.

But the biggest priority was trying to have some kind of normal life, and that wouldn’t happen until they knew who had killed Hazel Puckett.

Maisey had made a copy of the coroner’s report to take with her, and after telling Aaron where she’d be, she set out toward Miracle, Kentucky, deep in the mountains. She wasn’t actually going to Miracle; she was going somewhere even more remote, a little spot just north of the Hensley Settlement. Once she’d put the address in her mapping system, she tried to sit back and enjoy the ride.

But the farther she drove, the more apprehensive Maisey became. Something seemed very unsettling about the whole trip, and she couldn’t shake that feeling. It was only about an hour away, and she couldn’t believe she’d never been down there before. The pictures she’d seen of the Hensley Settlement site were interesting enough that she thought it might be a good trip for her and Aaron to make at some point. Murielle would love it. Maybe the McEvers and Harrison families would come with them and make a day of it. Everything about the pictures she’d seen had left her with a feeling of peace and tranquility.

But when she turned onto a small county highway to head out of Miracle and toward the state line, that sense of peace and tranquility was nowhere to be found. The farther she drove, the more unnerving it seemed. What was wrong? Why was she feeling so weird about the trip? There was another turn to make, so she took that one.

As soon as the car straightened, Maisey felt her heart thud even harder. The one-lane dirt and gravel road was narrow, with no room for two vehicles to pass unless one pulled off the road. Trees grew right along the edges and their branches intertwined above the roadway, almost like a tunnel. Brush so thick that she couldn’t see through it grew along the tree line, and seeing what was on the other side was impossible. It was as though she was driving through a chute. She was ascending a rise and when she reached the top, there was a break in the trees, and to the right was a mailbox with the number “409” on it. That was the address on the form, so Maisey turned, and her car began an immediate descent. Weeds grew up in the space between the tire tracks of cars, brushing the undercarriage, and it looked like no one had been there in decades. Were her family members gone? The mailbox hadn’t been brand new, but it wasn’t falling apart. It looked as though it might still be in use.

There was a curve in the drive, and when she slipped over yet another small rise and started down again, it was all laid out before her. In something that sort of lent itself to the term “clearing” was a house, and a dilapidated one at that. An old truck sat to one side, wheels missing and on blocks, and in front of the porch was some kind of derelict appliance. A skinny old dog stood there, its mouth partly open and tongue hanging out, panting, and she wondered if it would run to the car and try to attack her, but it just stood there. Several smaller trees were growing here and there, all with bottles neck-first over their branches, and a large cast iron kettle sat out front. Unlike most of the ones she was accustomed to seeing, this one had nothing planted in it. There were things hanging all around the rickety front porch, like spoons and forks, wine glasses by their stems, aluminum pie pans, and what looked like bones.

Maisey parked and waited to see if the dog would advance, but it didn’t. With careful steps, she moved around the front of the car and gave the dog a once over before she said, “Hey, boy. You doin’ okay?” Tail wagging, the old mutt wandered up to her and waited until she scratched behind his ears. He turned and followed her as she headed toward the house, and with the first step on the lopsided stairs, she glanced up. There were three or four god’s eyes hanging along with the rest of the stuff on the porch, and their crosspieces were made of animal bones. Great. I’ve stepped into the seventh circle of Hell , she told herself. Only the sounds of birds chirping and the wind rustling the leaves fell on her ears. Otherwise, it was silent. She reached up to knock on the door when it flew open and a voice said, “I wondered when you’d get here.”

Maisey peered into the darkness and saw a tiny, grizzled little woman standing there, her calico dress and grayed apron looking shabbier because of the sunlight outside. “I’m sorry?” Maisey said in barely over a whisper.

“We’ve been ’specting you. Mammy, she’s here.” With that, the woman turned and shuffled into the depths of the house. Maisey pondered it for a few seconds, then marched right on in.

What greeted her was a scene reminiscent of the early twentieth century or possibly even the late nineteenth century. Sparse, stark furnishings sat about, and many pieces looked to be hand-hewn. The curtains at the windows were obviously made of flour sacks, and a large, black potbelly stove sat in the middle of the room. One glance told her there was nowhere for a visitor to sit, and she couldn’t imagine that they even had any visitors anyway. She’d been standing there for a few seconds, scoping out her surroundings, when she heard a sound.

In the doorway to the next room hung a curtain of sorts, not of beads, but of bones strung together with twine. Maisey wasn’t sure what kind of bones they were, but they were from smallish animals, most certainly raccoons, possums, chickens, squirrels, and other things like that. The strands parted and a chair was pushed out into the room where she stood, a regular chair without wheels but containing a woman, and if she’d thought the one who’d answered the door looked old, well, she was a teenager compared to the woman in the chair. Her skin was so thin that Maisey was sure she could see the relic’s blood thrumming in her veins, and her hair was in tufts here and there. Once the chair was situated a few feet from Maisey, the first woman, younger than the second but still not young, said again, “We been ’specting you. This is ’bout Hazel, ain’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“She dead, ain’t she?” the woman asked.

There was no easy way to say it, so Maisey just replied, “Yes, ma’am. I’m afraid she is.”

“I knowed it.” The woman started to pace, and it made Maisey very nervous. “I tole Mammy here, I said, ‘Hazel done got herself killt.’ I knowed this was gonna happen.”

Here we go , Maisey told herself. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Was she in some kind of trouble?”

“Naw, not that I knowed of. But she were hangin’ ’round with some bad folk. I coulda tole her that if’n she come ’round from time to time, but naw. She was too good for the likes a-us.”

“So she didn’t come around, but you knew about the people she was hanging out with?”

“A-course we knowed. We knowed it all.”

“So the sheriff’s department contacted you about her death?”

The woman stared at her, a piercing glare that was almost painful. “No. Ain’t nobody tole us nothin’. They don’t give a damn ’bout us. We’s just trash to them city folk.”

“Then how did you know she’d died?”

The woman looked to the crypt keeper in the chair and back at Maisey. “We know all of it.” With a huff, she asked, “Throwed off a bridge, weren’t she?”

The floor seemed to tilt, and Maisey felt nauseous. How had the woman known that if no one told her? “Uh, yes, ma’am. From what we can tell.”

She watched as the old woman turned to the older one, almost as though she was listening intently, then turned back to Maisey. “She says Hazel didn’t drown. It was the fall what killt her.”

What the hell is happening here? Maisey’s brain shrieked. “That’s right.”

Again, the woman turned to the older one, stared, and then asked, “It were the man, weren’t it? The mean one, the important one, who lost all his money.”

“Um, we’re not sure, but we think it had something to do with money.”

“Had somethin’ to do with that fancy man she was havin’ im-pure re-la-tions with, ain’t that right?” the old woman asked, emphasizing every syllable.

“If you mean the man she was dating, then―”

“Datin’? She was lettin’ him roll around on her like a bull on a heifer. They was fornicatin’ like a pair o’ horny rabbits.” She turned back to the older woman, then looked back to Maisey. “Why was she all dressed up for?”

What the hell? Maisey almost yelled, but she managed to stay calm. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

A sound like two sticks being rubbed together came from the oldest woman, and in a second Maisey, identified the noise. She was laughing. It wasn’t a hearty laugh―there was nothing hearty left in that old woman―but it was indeed a laugh. The woman doing the talking watched her for a few seconds, then looked at Maisey again. “You know what she’s askin’ ’bout. You seen her.”

Maisey hadn’t been truly afraid until that moment. “What? What are you―”

“You! You the same, you and her!” the old woman said, pointing at the frail old skeleton of a human with one hand and Maisey with the other. “You both seers! Don’t try to deny it, girl. The three-a us here, we know it’s true. You seen her. You seen her bein’ murdered!”

“How do you know that?” Maisey shouted, ashamed that she couldn’t keep control of her voice, that her fear was seeping out and everyone in the room could hear it.

“We can feel it, silly girl! You got the gift!”

“It feels like a curse!” Maisey wanted to cry. And while it was terrifying, it was also… curious.

“I’m shore it do, honey, but it ain’t. Devil didn’t give it to you. Angels did. You gotta make the most of it.” The woman turned back to look at the oldest one, stared for a few seconds, then pivoted back to Maisey. “Okay, I’m-a tell ya what ya come here fer. When Mammy over here,” she said, pointing to the ancient woman, “had me, she were fourteen. When I had my girl, I was fourteen. When she had her girl, she was sixteen. And when that girl had her baby at sixteen, it were Hazel.” Before Maisey could speak, she added, “Yes, yes, Mammy here is Hazel’s great-great-grandma.” Maisey did the math quickly. Knowing that Hazel was forty-three when she was killed, the old woman was at least one hundred and three years old. “I think the very first words outta Hazel’s mouth when she was old enough to talk were, ‘I’m leavin’ here and I ain’t never comin’ back.’ She hated this place. Didn’t want nothin’ to do with it.”

“So when did she leave?”

“She done so good in high school that she got one-a them… what they call ’em?”

“Scholarship?” Maisey offered.

“Yep. One-a them scholarship things. Got outta here right away after she gradiated,” she said, and Maisey wasn’t about to correct her. “Got a job in town near the university, shared a lil’ place with friends. Didn’t want no part of the hicks out here in the sticks, know what I’m sayin’?”

“I think all kids feel that way about where they grew up,” Maisey said.

“I reckon you’d be right ’bout that. We was so proud-a her, but she didn’t even invite us to her gradiation. Just ignored us like we ain’t people, like she were raised by some animals or somethin’ out in the woods and didn’t have no family. Hurt, ya know?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m sure it did, and I’m sorry for that.”

“So we didn’t see her much. Just ever once in a while. When her mama died with that heart attack all sudden-like, I was glad. At least she didn’t linger and suffer only to know her baby girl weren’t interested in seein’ her in her last days.” Maisey nodded in understanding. Hazel might’ve been eager to get away from where she’d grown up, but she’d totally turned her back on her family, and even though Maisey’s mom had given her grief over her gift, Maisey could never turn her back on Molly.

“You asked me what she was doing all dressed up.” The old woman nodded. “I really don’t know. Dinner maybe? I’m not sure.”

“Uh-huh.” The woman nodded and stood there, almost like she was trying to figure out what to say next. “So did they at least give her a Christian burial? Like put her in the ground and pray over her? ’Cause nobody ever come ’round here to ask us what we thought or wanted.”

That made Maisey’s heart sad. “I think so. I’m not sure, but I can definitely find out and let you know.”

“Would you? We’d ’preciate that.”

“I will. Oh, I never did tell you my name. I’m MaiseyFriedman and I’m―”

“A social worker,” the woman interrupted.

Maisey was taken aback. “How’d you know that?”

“Tole you, we know things. I’m Zora, and this is my mammy, Beulah. You best be runnin’ on now. Yore husband gonna be lookin’ for ya.”

“How’d you know that… Right, right. You know things.” Maisey felt like some kind of trick was being played on her, but she wasn’t sure how or why. As she stood to leave, she was struck by the desire to stay and talk to these women. “If I learn anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Thank ya. I know ya didn’t have to come out here to talk to us, but I’m glad ya did. You take care drivin’ home now,” Zora told her, and Maisey smiled. But when she reached for the woman’s hand, Zora pulled hers back. “No shakin’ hands.”

“Oh, sorry,” Maisey said. She’d broken some kind of rule and she hadn’t meant to.

But Zora cleared that right up. “Nothin’ to be sorry ’bout. Just managed to live this long and don’t want no germs, ya know?”

That made sense to the younger woman. “I get it. Y’all take care, okay?”

“We will. Mammy says goodbye too,” Zora said. To Maisey’s surprise, Zora stopped right at the threshold, and a shiver ran up Maisey’s spine.

“Sure is a pretty day out here,” Maisey told her with a smile.

“Yep. Wish I could… Take care now,” Zora said and slammed the door, then opened it right back up and yelled out, “And that there baby’s gonna be a boy.”

Maisey stopped dead and spun. “I’m not pregnant.”

She could hear the very, very old woman laughing again in the background when Zora said, “No. Not yet.” Then the door slammed and it was silent.

Maisey slid behind the wheel, started the car, and headed out. The whole thing had been unbelievably weird. She was four miles down the road before she finally had enough of a signal to make a call, and her favorite deputy’s phone only rang once on her end before he said, “Hey, gorgeous, did it go okay?”

“Yeah. Very weird, but fine. I’ll tell you when I get home. But suffice it to say, they knew nothing. Hadn’t talked to Hazel in a long time. She’d pretty much shunned them.”

“Aww, that’s a shame. I hate to hear of kids doing that to their families.”

“Me too. At least we have a little better picture of who Hazel was, and I’m not impressed.”

She could hear Aaron snort on the other end of the phone. “Based on what you’ve just said, I’m not either.”

“I just know one thing for sure. I’m putting the hat back on tonight.”

“Okay. I can roll with that. Just be careful coming home.”

“Will do. Oh, and the younger of them told me the baby would be a boy.”

There was silence for a few seconds before Aaron asked, “You’re pregnant?”

“No! I told her I’m not pregnant and she just said, ‘Not now.’ But apparently… I don’t want to think about it anymore. I’ll be home in a little while.”

“That’s weird, but okay. See you when you get home.”

“Bye, babe.”

“Bye, beautiful girl.”

Maisey drove along, deep in thought. That had been the strangest encounter she’d ever experienced, and she’d had her share of strange encounters. What would that evening bring? She’d know soon enough.

Before she could get all the way back to town, Aaron had sent her a text.

Come straight to the office.

She pulled up in front of the sheriff’s office to find his cruiser sitting there, so she hopped out and powered inside. “Hey, Maisey!” one of the guys yelled.

“Hey! Aaron back there?” she asked, breezing through the outer office toward the back.

“Yep.”

“Hey, doll,” Aaron called out just as she stepped into his office.

“What’s up?”

“I’m about to make a video call. We are. You’re sitting in on it.”

“Okay. Who are we calling?”

“Alan Vanderboegh’s ex-wife, Marsha Chester.”

“Oh, she’s remarried?”

“Yep. The ButlerCounty sheriff handed her information right over to Carly. I was going to try to contact the kid, but I think I’d rather start with the parent. He said he’d tell her to expect our call.” Aaron pulled the paper closer, started tapping on his keyboard, and said, “Here we go.”

The funny sound started and it was answered by a woman who looked like she was talking into her cellphone’s screen. “Hello?”

“Mrs.Chester? This is Deputy Sheriff Aaron Friedman from the Whitley County Sheriff’s Office in Williamsburg, Kentucky. Is this a good time for you?”

“Yes! Oh, god, please tell me you’ve found Alan!”

Maisey knew Aaron could feel her looking at him. “Uh, no. Is he missing?”

“Yes! Please! We need to find him!”

“Mrs.Chester, my wife is here with me. She’s a social worker for the state. Is it okay if I include her in the call?”

“Of course!”

“Hi, Mrs.Chester. My name is Maisey. I’m helping Aaron with this case. So you’re looking for your husband?”

“Ex-husband,” the woman corrected.

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry. Ex-husband,” Maisey repeated.

“Yes. That’s why Marshall is here with me. He wanted to stay there, stay at his school, so we made arrangements for him to stay with Alan most of the time. But then one day he called me and said that he’d been alone at home for three days. Alan had stopped coming home, and then Alan’s girlfriend had disappeared. The only person in and out had been the housekeeper, and when she’d realized the second day that Marshall had been home all night by himself, she stayed because she didn’t want him to be alone. On the third day, she told him he had to call me, so I came down and picked him up. I went to the police station in Barbourville and told them he hadn’t come home, but they didn’t seem to care. Marshall’s been with me ever since, and Alan has never called. He’s never answered his phone.”

“Can you give me that number?” Aaron asked.

“Sure.” They could see her scrambling around on her phone and then she read it off. “That’s it.”

“We’ll see if we can find the phone. Maybe that will tell us where he is. What do you know about the woman he was dating? HazelPuckett?”

“I know she was a teacher at the school. I know they were living together.”

“Did Marshall say anything about her?”

“No. He liked her okay.” She hesitated for a second, then asked, “Would you like to talk to him?”

“That might be helpful.”

They waited while Marsha yelled for the boy and in just a few seconds, a young teen came into view. “This is a deputy from WhitleyCounty and his wife; she’s a social worker. They’re trying to find your dad and they’d like to talk to you.”

“Okay.” The child looked into the camera and waited.

“Hi, Marshall. I’m Aaron, and this is my wife, Maisey.” Maisey gave him a little wave. “What can you tell us about your dad before he disappeared?”

“He was upset. I don’t know what he was upset about, but he was upset.”

“Anything in particular that you remember?”

“Yeah. A couple of days before he didn’t come home, a man came to the house. He was yelling and screaming and asking for money, but Dad said he didn’t have any. And the man said he’d pay for what he’d done, whatever that meant.”

“Did you recognize the man?”

“No. I’d never seen him before.”

“Okay. What about Ms.Puckett?”

“She cried a lot.”

That’s certainly interesting , Maisey wanted to say, but she didn’t. “Do you know what she was crying about?” Aaron asked the boy.

“No, but I think it was money.”

“Were they fighting and arguing and things like that?”

“No. She just cried. A lot. And Dad kept telling her it would be okay.”

“When was the last time you saw your dad?”

“I don’t know. I don’t… Wait. On the first night that he didn’t come home, I got upset because I had a field trip with Mrs.Conseco’s class the next day and he’d never signed the permission slip. Mrs.Fields signed it for me.”

“Mrs. Fields?”

“Yeah. Our housekeeper. She felt sorry for me so she signed it. So whatever day that was, it was the day before. Hazel couldn’t sign it because she’s a teacher, not a parent.”

“And when was the last time you saw Ms.Puckett?”

“A few days after Dad stopped coming home. She brought me home from school and said she had some errands she had to run, but she never came home. The whole thing was super weird.”

“Why did you think that was weird?” Aaron asked, but Maisey knew.

“Because it seemed strange that all of those things happened just boom-boom-boom . Too coincidental. Does that make sense?”

“It makes perfect sense. If we could come up with a picture, do you think you could identify the man?”

“I think so. It was dark, but he was standing right under the porch light. I could probably recognize him from a picture.”

“Good. If we find out anything, I’ll give you a call back. In the meantime, if you or your mother,” Aaron said, and Marsha waved from behind Marshall, “think of anything else, please, please call me. You have my number now. I really appreciate you taking time to talk to us.”

“Yes, we really do appreciate it,” Maisey added.

“You’re very welcome,” Marsha called out. “Thank you for doing this.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am. Take care, both of you,” Aaron told her and ended the call. Then he sank back into his chair. “Well, that was really interesting.”

“Sure was. What now?”

“I find out when that field trip was. That gives us the beginning of a timeline. We can count forward from that and figure out when all of these things took place. If they jibe with what we know from the coroner’s report, then we’ve got two issues on our hands―finding the murderer and finding AlanVanderboegh.”

“Do you think the man screaming at Hazel was asking about Alan?” Maisey asked, already knowing the answer.

“Absolutely. It only makes sense. I don’t think Alan’s dead, or if he is, it happened after Hazel’s death.”

Maisey’s mind was running a million miles a minute. If Alan had disappeared first, and that was what Marshall said had happened, where had he gone? Did Hazel know where he was? Or was she as clueless as the man who’d murdered her? Aaron interrupted her reverie. “I’ve got to run this phone number and see if it pings anywhere.”

“Okay. I’m going home to start dinner. I only did one appointment this morning before I went down there, so I lost a whole day of work today,” Maisey said, standing.

“You said you’d tell me about the trip,” Aaron reminded her.

Maisey shook her head. “Too long. It’ll have to wait. Right now, I need to go home where everything is peaceful and quiet. I’ll pick up Murielle on the way by.”

“Sounds good. See you when I get home. Love you, babe.” Aaron leaned over and gave her a light kiss.

“Love you too. See you shortly.”

Maisey wandered out of the office and to her car. She needed to pick up Murielle, go home, and do something to relax. But even after Murielle was in the car with her, she could still hear Zora’s voice in her head.

And it just wouldn’t go away.

“Is pasketti made from glue?”

Aaron chuckled. “No, baby. It’s made from flour and water,” Maisey explained.

“But it looks like dried glue,” Murielle insisted.

Aaron grinned. “It doesn’t taste like dried glue.”

Murielle made a horrible face. “Well, no. But maybe kinda.”

“Have you been eating dried glue?” Aaron asked, one eyebrow peaked.

“No.” He kept staring at her. “Okay, maybe once. BartGorman dared me.”

“Don’t let people dare you into doing things. It’s always things they won’t do themselves because they know they’re stupid things to do. So they get somebody else to do it instead.”

“Well, all I know is pasketti don’t taste nothin’ like that.”

“Spaghetti doesn’t taste anything like that,” Maisey corrected.

“That’s what I said. Don’t taste nothin’ like that,” Murielle repeated.

Maisey let out a sigh. “Just eat and don’t worry about what it tastes like. Looks great to me. Its only purpose is to find a way to get the sauce into your mouth.” She twirled her fork in the pasta and stuffed a mouthful in. “See? No glue.”

Murielle giggled and ate a big bite herself. “You’re right, Mommy. All I taste is the sauce anyway and it’s yummy.”

Maisey smiled. “Thank you.” Hearing Murielle call her Mommy always made her smile. For Maisey, it was the biggest compliment the child could give her.

When dinner was finished, cleaned up, and Murielle was snug in bed, Maisey retrieved the hat from the closet shelf and stepped back into the living room. “Am I doing this?”

Aaron sighed. “I think you should.”

“Okay. Let’s do it.” With Aaron trailing behind her, Maisey led the way out onto the deck. As soon as they were both sitting, she took a deep breath, let it out, and whispered, “Here goes nothing.”

The void was a deep blackness that she hated. Within it was something new, a man’s voice. “I’m the laughingstock of the entire place! Did I deserve that? No, I did not!”

The voice Maisey recognized as Hazel’s chimed in. “I had nothing to do with that!”

“Yeah, but you knew about it!”

“Not really. He did all of that himself. I didn’t help him at all.”

“You helped him spend it,” the man’s voice growled. “My wife’s bugging the hell out of me for a new car and he took all my money and left me with nothing !” the man screamed.

“I’d give it back to you if I had it, but I don’t! And I don’t have access to his accounts!”

As menacing as anything she’d ever heard, the man’s voice snarled, “Yeah, well, I think it’s time you tell me where he is!”

The sensation of metal bars crossing her back hit her senses. “Oh! Oh, no! Please! What do you want from me?”

“I want to know where he is!” the man bellowed. “Tell me now or I swear I’ll―”

“Oh, god, please, no! I don’t know where he is! I swear, I don’t!”

“You have to know where he is! You can’t make me believe that you haven’t talked to him!”

“I swear, if I knew, I’d tell you!”

“Maybe he’ll care if he finds out you’re missing.”

Hazel was crying. “It won’t make a difference. He doesn’t love me anymore, so if you think this will get him here, you’re wrong! Please! Please don’t! I…”

Maisey could feel herself falling just as before, but it stopped abruptly, and she knew that meant the hat had flown off. A voice seeped into her consciousness. “Babe? Maisey?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay. I’m fine.” As her eyes opened, she was thankful to see Aaron in her line of vision. “I’m okay.”

“Anything new?”

“Yeah. I could see the top half of his face, his eyes, but that’s all. And he was definitely looking for Alan. That’s why he killed her, because she wouldn’t tell him where Alan was. And she claimed Alan didn’t love her anymore and wouldn’t come back even if he knew she was in trouble.”

“So we’re no closer than before.” Aaron’s voice carried a measure of defeat.

Maisey gave him a tiny smile. “Maybe not.”

That made Aaron perk up. “How so?”

“I may not know who it was, but I can tell you this―I recognized his voice. I don’t know who he is, but it’s someone I’ve heard talk before. I just don’t know who.”

“Hmmm. Think on that and maybe it’ll come to you.”

“Maybe. But at least it’s somebody who’s probably from around here. Or somebody who’s an international celebrity,” Maisey said with a giggle.

“Oh, yeah. There’s an international celebrity here and they’re pushing women off bridges. Because, you know, nobody would ever notice an international celebrity here in town, right?” Aaron had started to laugh. “I mean, they wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb!”

“Nope, of course not!” Maisey laughed too, but deep inside, she felt an uneasiness. Someone she knew, or at least ran into occasionally, had murdered HazelPuckett. That was deeply troubling.

Not to mention totally terrifying.