Chapter 56
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
To Do:
- Contact manager at drive in
- Shop for a new desk
“Here, look at these.” Nicole dragged her tablet out and foisted it at Claire. “Previews from Brad’s proposal.”
They had met up for dinner at the park where Claire had tackled someone she thought might be the Widowmaker the year before. She had been wrong, but at least the park still had tacos. Gnats bobbed irritatingly overhead. Children passed a soccer ball back and forth on a green patch of grass. A spicy aroma wafted over from the taco truck in the parking lot. The weathered boards of the picnic table creaked beneath her as Claire shifted.
She wiped the taco grease off her hand with a napkin, then gasped when she focused on the photo. It was perfect. Joy sparkled in Karen’s eyes. The Hollywood sign glowed behind her. Peonies wound through the altar behind her.
“Coli, they’re perfect. You’re a prodigy. How do you do it?”
Nicole smiled. “I’m not. It’s just light, aperture, shutter speed. It’s practically science.”
“Shut your beautiful mouth, you magnificent humble genius.” She flicked through a couple more pictures. The sunset ones were striking. Even the drone pictures of the couple huddled together in a Ferris wheel car were flawless.
Claire pulled Nicole into a hug. “I love them. Thank you so much for flying all the way out there. Especially while feeling like a hot bag of garbage.”
“It’s starting to get better,” Nicole said, shrugging. “I ate a whole roll the other day without vomiting.”
“Small miracles,” Claire said with a smile.
Nicole sipped from her water bottle. “Mindy says the proposal’s already starting to blow up.”
Claire nodded and sipped from her to-go margarita. “Yeah. Who knew a plug on Good Morning America would be all it took to crash our website and fill our inbox? I would say it was nice of Brad to do that, but honestly it was the least he could have done after everything he put us through.”
“Amen,” Nicole said. She dipped a tortilla chip into a plastic container of queso. “How do you feel now that it’s over?”
Claire’s gaze swept across the park out of habit. Sure, she had traveled a few thousand miles away from the West Coast. But ESA always seemed to know where she was.
She mentally cataloged all the men within eyesight, just in case. Handlebar mustache dripping taco juice on a baby’s head. Two elderly men playing chess. Guy in a suit jacket shouting to someone on the phone about the market price of lobster. No one seemed to be paying them much attention, but that didn’t mean anything.
A chilly wind whipped across the parking lot, and she shivered. “Good, I think. It’s definitely going to be an adjustment having Heather in LA. It’s just been Mindy and me for so long. But I think it’s meant to be. She was such a huge help the day of Brad’s proposal. I can’t believe Wendy almost snatched her out from under us.”
“I was impressed with her too.” Nicole crunched into another chip. “She just handled the whole traffic situation like it was nothing. We’d probably still be sitting on the Pacific Coast Highway if it wasn’t for her.”
Claire nodded. “She earned that sign-on bonus. And I used most of the tip Brad gave me to pay a couple extra months of the loan.”
“Look at you, Miss Responsible,” Nicole said, nudging her.
The shadows were growing long around them. “Not that responsible. I did save some for a new pair of shoes.”
“I wouldn’t even know who you were anymore if you hadn’t.”
Claire smiled. “Are you guys free next Saturday? I want to throw Luke a premiere party. I can’t believe he’s finally done with the doc. I imagine we’ll just play the first episode, but of course that’ll be up to him. So long as it’s not my episode.” Her smile turned to a grimace.
“Of course we’ll be there. Have you started planning?”
She shot Nicole some side eye. “Obviously. I just want it to be really special for him. We had such a rough time in California. I let work take over every aspect of my life, and it almost destroyed us. I wasn’t there for him in the ways that he needed me to be. I’m committed to doing better. Starting with throwing him a hopefully awesome—but also reverent—party.”
“Tell me everything.” Nicole crumpled up their trash and threw it in a nearby bin.
Claire launched into all the details she had considered for Luke’s premiere. If all went as planned, the event would take place at the drive-in movie theater next to her favorite state park. In her youth, money had been tight after Jack left. On special occasions, she and Alice would hike up the overlook at the park and watch the drive-in movies with binoculars from across the highway.
“And I want a fleet of food trucks so that everyone can get whatever they want. It has to be tastefully done, though, because of course we’re inviting the families of the victims. Sometimes I forget that we’re celebrating the completion of a project that showcases their…you know.”
“Murdered spouses and children?” Nicole grimaced. “Everything you’re planning sounds really beautiful. Luke will love it. And you’ll find a way to honor the victims and their families. Will you speak?” Nicole raised her eyebrows and sipped a thermos of ginger tea. Perhaps the queso hadn’t sat right with the baby after all.
Claire paused and sloshed the ice in her to-go margarita. “You know, I hadn’t really thought about it. I don’t think it’s my place. This is Luke’s night. It’s not about me.”
“Well, you are responsible for putting their killer behind bars. The families might want to talk to you. Didn’t the Herrolds send you flowers after Barney’s arrest?”
Claire frowned and looked over her shoulder. “Sure. But at the same time, every time those families see me, they’re reminded of their wives and daughters who didn’t make it. I don’t want to draw any attention to myself.”
“They don’t hold your survival against you, you know.” Nicole bumped Claire with her shoulder.
Claire fiddled with the cap of her water bottle. “I wouldn’t blame them if they did. There’s no reason why I should have been the one to live. I only survived because of dumb luck. And Alice drilling personal safety advice into me for as long as I can remember, I guess.”
Nicole flicked her on the nose. “Stop it. Don’t make me call Sawyer’s mom so she can explain survivor’s guilt to you again.”
Claire snort laughed. “I’m a mess, aren’t I?”
“We all are. I locked my keys in my car this morning and shrank Kyle’s boxers in the wash.”
“Damn. That’s impressive.” Claire tucked Luke’s to-go meal in her purse. Her fingers brushed against a binder. She glanced at her watch. Luke was watching his episodes back-to-back and was unlikely to emerge for hours. An empty evening stretched in front of her. Although they were only in West Haven for a couple of days, there was plenty of time to investigate the whole William Hickory thing. Maybe if she could find another victim and bring that family closure, she could look them in the eyes at the premiere.
“I should probably get going.” Claire hopped off the picnic table. “Thank you so much for meeting me.” She pulled Nicole in for a hug and then crouched so that she was speaking to her belly. “This is your Auntie Claire speaking. You are perfect exactly the way you are, Baby Collins. You are so loved and I can’t wait to meet you. But not too soon,” she added.
Nicole smiled. “I’ll see you again before you go back for Bri’s premiere?”
Claire nodded. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
“It’s Kyle’s parents’ thirty-year anniversary, so we kind of have to go. Since I’m the one throwing it.”
“Of course. Give them a hug from me. Love you.” Claire waved as she walked away.
She could have closed her eyes and walked back to her old apartment, where Mindy and Sawyer were probably tangled together in her old bedroom. She knew every brick of Market Street, every crack in the sidewalk. Her favorite florist was six blocks down on the right. The bodega with the best price on dog food was around the corner next to the health food store. It was so good to be home, away from the overpriced hummus and confusing parking laws of LA. There wasn’t even a single influencer on the sidewalk Instagramming street tacos or climbing their ex-boyfriend’s drainpipe.
In the morning, she would have to cram as much planning for Luke’s premiere in as she could. But, for now, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to do some investigating. She fired off a text to Luke and let him know she was going on a walk alone, but that she had three new Tasers and a fresh can of mace on her person.
She glanced underneath her car out of habit before sliding into the driver’s seat. The dying sun glinted off the shiny and very official binder she had put together to investigate Barney’s latest riddle. She flipped to the first page. There was no record of any William, Will, or Bill Hickories buried in West Haven. That eliminated the cemeteries.
Barney’s only victim to be discovered, Kayley Herrold, had been buried along a stretch of road he drove almost daily. If he kept to that pattern, there was a good chance the other victims were buried near his frequent haunts.
Her stomach twisted at the thought of Barney stepping out of his favorite café and visiting the resting place of a victim. Those families deserved answers. They deserved to have a funeral, a chance to say goodbye. If she could find another victim, it would have to help the FBI with their case. Maybe he’d finally be put away for good. And with all hopes of getting out of prison gone, maybe Barney would turn on ESA.
Claire’s phone vibrated, startling her out of her reverie. Mindy was calling.
“Hey. What’s up?”
There was a clatter on Mindy’s end of the phone. “Just baked some cookies. Down, Diesel.”
Claire smiled. “Nice. Are you bringing them to the meeting tomorrow?”
“Of course. What did you think about those three West Haven couples I sent you?”
“Claudia and Tyrell are delightful. It’s been so long since we did a female proposal. It’s long overdue.”
“Great. I’ll pull their information together and we can get started tomorrow. Where are you going?” She asked sharply. “I hear your seatbelt thing chiming.”
Claire squared her shoulders. “Just doing a bit of driving. I missed West Haven.”
“Bullshit. You’re looking for Bill Hickory, aren’t you?”
Claire frowned. How did she know?
“Nicole said you looked suspicious when you left. You’re not going by yourself,” Mindy said firmly. “Don’t go anywhere. I’m coming to you.” There was the sound of a struggle on the other end.
“Ugh, fine. I’m at the park with the taco truck.”
“I’ll see you in five.”
The line disconnected. So much for an hour of alone time. But maybe it was best to have some company. Only an idiot would attack her with Mindy in tow. She was basically a chihuahua in stilettos.
Claire flipped to another section of the binder. Thanks to her intense cyber-stalking of Barney and Victoria during his proposal planning phase, she had a spreadsheet of all their favorite places. His barber, his tailor, their favorite restaurant, even the stadium of his preferred sports team. Her skin crawled as she read over the names. She had watched him and Victoria on a date at that restaurant. Picked up a coffee from his favorite café before proposal practice. She had catered to a serial killer, and she had no clue.
West Haven businesses stared back at her. Nothing online connected any of these places to William Hickory, but maybe in person she’d be able to spot something. She’d investigate them all if she had to. She pulled out a highlighter and set to marking the most likely ones.
Ten minutes later, someone rapped on her window. Claire jumped like she had been electrocuted and smeared orange highlighter across her thumb. The Taser was half out of her purse when she recognized Mindy’s green eyes peeping at her through the glass. Phew. Not a murderer. She unlocked the doors, and Mindy jumped in.
“So,” Mindy said, immediately handing over a bag full of cookies. “Where do we start?”
“Where do you think he’d be most likely to hide a body?” Claire plunged her hand into the cookie bag. There wasn’t any room in her stomach after the fleet of carne asada tacos and extra guac she had eaten, but she’d always make room for Mindy’s cookies.
“Barber? Tailor? The quad at Venor?” Claire added.
Mindy grimaced. “Isn’t the suit guy down the street from the Heirloom? Let’s start there.” She twiddled Claire’s radio dial to a pop music station, and they set off.
Once parked in front of Barney’s tailor, Hammond Brothers, they climbed out of the car and glanced up and down the street. At this hour, the dinner crowds were dispersing and people were going home. Two couples walked toward a sports bar a block over. For once, there were no creepers hiding in the shadows. None that Claire could see, anyway.
She caught a glance of the Heirloom Hotel as she surveyed the street one more time. The sign blinked on, a sinister red in a sea of concrete. She shuddered from head to toe. What should have been a blissful evening celebrating Kyle and Nicole’s wedding had turned into the scene of a nightmare. She had avoided this part of town for the better part of a year, and now Barney had dragged her back into his web.
Claire redirected her attention at the store and put the hotel firmly out of her sight. If she could just solve the riddle, another family would have answers. That was what was important. Her heart skipped a beat, and an ember of anxiety stirred deep in her stomach. She closed her eyes and counted to ten.
Dr. Goulding’s advice echoed in her mind. Deep breaths, ground yourself in reality. The streetlights buzzed to life overhead. An overripe dumpster must have been nearby as the smell was making her eyes water.
“All good?” Mindy’s voice was gentler than usual.
Claire’s eyes popped open. Her heart rate slowed, and she nodded. Maybe there was something to this anti-anxiety medication after all. Barney’s hold on her had just lessened another notch. It was time to focus.
She turned back to the window. Good lord, even the mannequins looked pretentious. Was that a pocket watch? Who carried a pocket watch anymore?
“If only we had a cadaver dog.” Mindy squinted at the ground as if expecting to see a shinbone jutting out of the small planter surrounding a red maple tree.
“I know, right? Detective Smith had the audacity to say ‘the police station is not a dog library, you can’t just borrow one.’ It’s like they don’t want to find the victims.” And there hadn’t been enough time (or corpses) to train Rosie or Winston.
Mindy squatted to inspect underneath the store’s dumpster. “And here we are, doing their job for them. Again.”
“Yep,” Claire said flatly.
They scoured the front and back of the store, but everything was asphalt and concrete. No patch of dirt to hide a body, no hickory tree, no curious graffiti, nothing.
The same was true for his barbershop, favorite café, and gym. Dead ends were everywhere. Her new jeans were covered in dirt. The ends of her hair had dipped into a dribbled milkshake outside the café dumpster. Could William Hickory have just been a red herring? Was she wasting her time? But he had told the truth before. Barney wanted everyone to play his game. Why lie now?
“I don’t know where else to look.” Claire’s shoulders slumped as she crossed off Buff Bros Gymnasium. “You pick.”
Mindy closed her eyes and pointed to a random location.
“ Chez Louis it is.” Claire activated her turn signal and pulled out onto the highway. It was Barney’s favorite restaurant, the one Claire had sent him to after getting engaged. It was on the edge of the business district, near the park that was the site of his flash mob proposal.
Storefronts flashed by and a sense of unease crept in. Her stomach was in knots. If she failed, she would have to face the families of the victims empty-handed. Sure, her abduction had culminated in Barney’s arrest. She had debased herself to get him to reveal the location of Kayley Herrold’s body. But nothing was going to change the fact that she lived while their daughters died. Some closure was all she had to offer them. But they wouldn’t get it if she couldn’t find William Fricken Hickory.
They rolled up to the restaurant. The inside was dark, chairs already stacked on tables. They were closed on Mondays, but it wasn’t like Barney was going to just chuck one of his victims in the basement anyway.
She and Mindy exited the car and surveyed the area. Barney had always insisted on getting the window table at the restaurant. Claire shivered and drew her jacket more tightly around her. She backed up to the glass and panned slowly around the area like a human security camera. Was it someplace he could see from his favorite table? Something about this place felt different. The air was thick, almost heavy. The back of her neck prickled. Was someone watching them? Or was she onto something?
She leapt to the edge of the building and whipped her head into the alleyway. A sudden crick in her neck almost made her cry out, but she clutched a hand over the source of the pain and probed the darkness. A squirrel darted out from the dumpster. There were no footsteps. No movement in the shadows.
“Something’s different, Mindy.” Claire turned back to the street.
“Is it?” Mindy closed the chute of the mail collection box she had been peering into.
“You don’t feel it?” Claire swept her gaze over the surrounding area. There was a dry cleaner across the street. A law office to the right. A bank at the end of the block.
Inspiration struck like lightning, sending goosebumps down her arms. There, in a small courtyard behind the bank, was a towering tree.
“Mindy. William Hickory paid the ultimate price. Paid . Like a bank.” Was Barney’s riddle just a stupid pun?
Something inside her propelled her down the street. She crossed the street without looking, earning an angry beep from a Mini Cooper. The courtyard grew closer. Her heart hammered in her chest. Was it a hickory tree?
When she and Mindy approached, they took a small concrete path that curled toward the back entrance of the bank. A flower garden surrounded the tree and a simple iron bench stood at one end. Claire reached up and pulled on a branch. The rounded leaflets looked just like the picture of hickory leaves from the internet. She took a step closer and banged her shin into something hard.
“Damn it.” She clutched at her shinbone. It stung like she had punted a beehive. What had she hit? She crouched down and brushed away the thick green leaves of a clump of daffodils. There was a small, tarnished brass plaque hidden underneath.
“Mindy. Flashlight.”
Mindy’s phone illuminated the small plaque. They crouched together, reading breathlessly.
“The Colonial Bank was rumored to be a station on the Underground Railroad in the mid to late 1840s. John Bledsoe, the owner of the bank, was a secret abolitionist. He would leave one lantern lit at the base of this hickory tree on nights when it was safe for slaves to enter. They called it ‘waiting for Bill Hickory.’ Fugitive slaves were fed and sheltered before moving on.”
Tingles exploded up and down Claire’s spine. The plaque wasn’t one of the official Pennsylvania historical markers. That must be why it wasn’t on the website.
Was this the final resting place of one of Barney’s victims? Had he sat on that bench and reminisced about her murder?
“Does that mean…?” Mindy pointed at the flower garden that surrounded the tree.
Claire ripped her phone out of her purse. Her hands shook as she dialed Jack’s number. She was still mad at him over the whole convention thing, but this trumped her issues.
“Don’t tell me you tracked down the professor again.” Jack sounded annoyed.
“You mean you haven’t caught him yet? I’m so surprised,” Claire sniped.
There was silence on the other end. She took a deep breath and took another step away from the tree. “Listen. Mindy and I solved the riddle.”
“What? You found William Hickory?” The annoyance had vanished from his voice.
“Yes. There’s a tree at the Colonial Bank in West Haven. There’s a plaque—not an official one, I guess because it was only a rumored stop on the Underground Railroad.” Her words were tumbling out too fast. “Anyway, there was something about a lantern and the plaque says former slaves called it ‘waiting for Bill Hickory.’ How quickly can you get a cadaver dog here?”
“Stay right there. I’ll send Detective Smith.”
“You’re not coming?”
“I’m still in Los Angeles. It’ll be hours.” The phone disconnected.
Claire and Mindy stepped to the sidewalk and shivered under a streetlight. The night was too cold for spring. A sliver of moon peered out from behind a wispy cloud. Her eyes were drawn to the flower bed beneath the tree. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. This tree had once stood as a symbol of hope and freedom. Would Barney really be so uncouth as to commandeer a historical landmark and dump a body?
Mindy’s thumbs were firing away on her phone. “Sawyer’s not going to believe this.”
“Won’t he, though? This is kind of our thing. Doing the police’s work for them.” Her tone was light, but it didn’t unravel the ball of anxiety in her stomach. She pulled out her phone. Luke would probably like to know about this turn of events.
Claire: Will be home slightly later than I thought—might have found one of Barney’s victims.
Thirty seconds later, her phone buzzed.
Luke: What?! Where?
She hastily responded that she should probably wait for permission from law enforcement to divulge anything else. Luke sent a swearing face emoji.
The seconds stretched like hours as she stared at the garden. Leaves rustled in the tree.
Finally, two cop cars and a black sedan pulled up. Detective Smith jumped out of the sedan and slammed his car door. Latex gloves slid on with a snap.
“I think you should look here,” Claire addressed the detective, pointing to the base of the tree.
“Seal the perimeter,” he said over his shoulder to the cops.
“Thank you for the tip, but I need you to get off the bank grounds. This is a potential crime scene.”
Claire sighed. She had basically wrapped the professor up with a bow and handed him to the FBI, and they still couldn’t catch him. Now she was being banished from another break in the case.
“That’s Barney’s favorite restaurant on the corner right there. Perfect view of the courtyard from the table in the window. I’m just saying.” She pointed at the restaurant, then walked off, too irritated to stick around and snoop. It could be hours before they actually did any digging.
When Claire and Mindy got back to her car a few minutes later, a note was sitting on her windshield. Either someone was trying to tell her about a sale on Polish pottery, or ESA knew she was back in West Haven. Claire looked up at the stars.
“Why?” she half-yelled at the Big Dipper. She looked down at the stupid piece of paper, ready to just throw it in the trash. Knowing the contents of this note would change nothing. But if she did that, she’d be driving back here in the middle of the night and digging through the trash can. You never knew what you’d find in a West Haven trash can. One time, an unhoused person searching for food had found a dismembered finger.
“Not another note.” Mindy groaned. “Should we call the police?”
“What’s the point? At best, they’ll check traffic cams and find some faceless hoodie-wearing idiot dropping this note.” Claire turned counterclockwise, staring slowly into each dark corner. There wasn’t anyone lurking behind the concession stand at the park or staring at her from outside the shoe store on the corner. The taco truck had disappeared.
“Screw it.” She dug in her purse and pulled out a pair of rubber gloves. At this point, they were a permanent fixture in her purse due to the sheer number of times she was required to handle potential evidence.
She clumsily unfolded the note and held it up to the streetlight. Magazine letters were cut out and pasted onto a piece of paper. What was this, an old-timey ransom note? Someone had too much time on their hands.
Blood is thicker than water.
A smudge of red liquid clung to the bottom of the note. She rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the science lesson, idiots,” she called to the empty parking lot, just in case someone was listening. A couple walking by with a Shiba Inu exchanged a concerned look and quickened their pace.
She sealed the note in a plastic sandwich bag and threw it in her purse with a mind to take it to Detective Smith tomorrow morning. She already knew what they would find—absolutely nothing.