Chapter Fifteen
Tracey let out a snort. “For sure I still have the vial. I wasn’t going to throw out evidence against Eliza. You never know, right?”
“You never know. Any chance I could get my hands on it?”
“Absolutely. But even if you can’t prove anything, I want it back at some point, okay? I know it’s stupid, but I feel like Maryanne would want me to protect it.”
“There’s nothing stupid about it, Tracey. You’re a good friend. I’m going to attempt to trace where it was purchased. Because of the elapsed time, it may not even be possible to figure out, but if by some miracle I do, I’ll see if I can tie it to Eliza. I don’t suppose Maryanne ever said anything along those lines? Maybe she poked into her sister’s credit card statements or something?”
“She never told me if she did.”
“What time today is good for you?”
“The sooner the better, right? Cause then you can get to digging. I’ll take an extra-long lunch break and make up the time later. Can you meet me around twelve-fifteen? I’ll wait outside my building like last time.”
“See you soon.”
Roman arrived a few minutes early and found Tracey was already loitering on the steps outside the main entrance to the low-rise apartment. She studied the Escape, then once she was sure it was Roman, walked briskly over to him.
“Why don’t you hop in? I can drive you back to work, cut down on your away time, and it’ll give us a few moments to talk.”
She hesitated, studying his face then slowly nodded. “Okay. But I’m taking my phone out right now and punching in 911. All I have to do is hit call, so don’t try anything.”
Roman leaned back against the seat and lifted his hands off the steering wheel. “No funny stuff, I promise. You know, I kind of doubt you’re actually worried. A smart girl like you would’ve googled me and know I’m on the straight and narrow.”
She walked around the front of the SUV and slid onto the passenger seat before buckling on her seatbelt.
“Of course I googled you. But you can’t be too careful. If Eliza killed her whole family, anyone can do anything, right?”
She showed him the screen of her cell with the emergency call queued up, then held it on her lap, pointing the end at him as if it was a gun. He had to fight down a laugh.
“Where to?”
“You’ll need to do a U-turn. I work at Pinnacle on 10 th Street.”
“Got it. Tell me everything you can remember Maryanne saying about Eliza and the peanut oil.”
Tracey cleared her throat. “One day we were in Clover Hall studying—this was about a month before she died—and I could tell she was upset. When I asked what was wrong, she said she and Eliza had had a massive fight. This was ages after her folks died and during that time, they’d been getting along really great. Better than ever.”
“That sometimes happens around death. It brings people closer.”
“Yeah. I guess. At least it did for Maryanne and her sister … until it didn’t. They were at the point of getting the house ready to sell. There was no sense in keeping it since it was too far from school for Maryanne and Eliza didn’t want to live there. Like at all. They couldn’t stay on top of the mortgage and also pay rent on other places, and it would free up some capital. I’d helped Maryanne with an investing plan and, long term, her cut from the sale of the house would’ve worked out to grow her a really awesome nest egg.” Tracey shook her head and stared down at her hands.
“I guess Eliza got that money when Maryanne passed?” Roman asked.
“Yeah. It still makes me so mad.”
“Back to the day in study hall and Eliza being upset.”
Tracey’s head snapped up. “Right. I asked her if something had happened, and she sort of made this weird face and said, ‘You have no idea.’ Then she told me about finding the vial in the vanity under the sink, hidden all the way at the back. It was the bathroom she and Eliza shared, except Maryanne mostly lived at school now and had for a long time. Eliza apparently shrugged it off and claimed she’d never seen it before. Which was a flat-out lie. How else would it have gotten in the house?”
“No chance Stephanie bought it herself and because of Phillip’s allergy, wanted to put it somewhere he’d never look?”
“Are you for real right now? Why would she do that? Her husband’s deathly allergic.”
“Maybe she wanted to … I don’t know … put it in a smoothie or something.”
Tracey’s head shook back and forth. “No way. Mrs. W would never risk it. It had to be Eliza. When Maryanne confronted her she denied like crazy, then had the nerve to want the vial back. Said she’d use it herself now they didn’t have to worry about hurting their dad. But Maryanne wouldn’t give it to her. That’s what the fight was really about. And it got physical, too. Eliza tried to wrestle the oil away from Maryanne but my girl hung tough.”
“She told you all this that day in the study hall?”
“Uh-huh. And we talked about it a lot. Sort of like what you’re thinking, she wanted to figure out where and when Eliza got it. But we were in the middle of exams and had a whole bunch of papers due. I think she’d planned to do some snooping around over Christmas break.” Tracey’s breath heaved out. “Of course, she was dead by then, wasn’t she?”
Tracey unzipped her purse and pulled out a small Ziplock baggie containing a light brown cylinder. She placed it in one of the cup holders in the console between them.
“I don’t suppose you found out anything about it?” Roman said, gesturing to the baggie.
“Nope. There’s no label on the container and the vial is basically generic. I did some searches online but couldn’t ID it at any of the more well-known stores like Whole Foods or Trader Joe’s or even Costco.”
There was a lull in the conversation and Roman flicked a glance over to her face. “How’re you doing? Mia’s been worried about you.”
Instead of responding to the question, Tracey glanced through the windshield while Roman turned into the Pinnacle parking lot. She pointed off to the right. “The door over by the side is me. You can pull over right in front.”
She deleted the 911 call on the screen of her phone then pushed it inside her purse. When Roman glided alongside the empty curb by the sandstone building, he put the SUV in park and turned to face her.
“You’ve been a great help. I really appreciate it.”
She swallowed once and her eyes fell on the vial where it nestled in the console. “I’d do anything to get Maryanne’s killer. And in answer to your question, I’m fine.” She paused and her eyebrows drew together. “It’s strange, but I actually feel better since I met up with you guys the other day. Like a weight has been lifted or something. Maybe it’s just talking about Maryanne or the feeling something’s being done to avenge her death. Whatever. I’m okay so tell Mia not to worry.”
“Take care. I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”
Roman watched her stride into the building and nodded to himself. Of course she was feeling better. Hadn’t Mia gone right ahead and absorbed Tracey’s pain as though she was a sponge mopping up a spill on the counter? And hadn’t Tracey’s pain been messing with her ever since?
Mia was the most selfless person he’d ever met. He only wished she could see herself through his eyes because when he looked at her, he saw an unflinchingly courageous and inherently good woman. Not to mention she was sexy as sin.
The memory of the previous night on the couch flooded his brain. Sure, it’d been a little strange, but holy mother of God, he’d gladly participate in whatever emotional exorcism she’d been doing on herself.
He picked up the Ziplock baggie and drew out the vial. There was no reason to try and preserve it as evidence. Not at this stage in the game when he could count at least half a dozen people who’d likely handled it in the last year.
It was made of brown semi-transparent glass and stood about three inches tall. The diameter was around an inch or so. There was no label. No etchings on the glass other than a stamp on the bottom stating a volume of three ounces.
The top was black and screwed on. He removed it and took a cautious sniff. Yep. Still smelled like peanut oil even though there didn’t appear to be any liquid inside.
Someone honked and he looked around and saw a car waiting to get into his spot. He put the vial back in the bag and turned out onto 10 th Street. His phone pinged and at the next red light he tapped the screen and saw the Walkerton PD had sent him the reports.
Great. He’d have lots to dig into once he got back to the office. Hopefully he’d find something to kick things forward again. It was all about momentum now. One small piece of information leading to a new angle which would maybe yield something else of interest. Countless tiny clues stacking up on one another. That’s how he’d solve this case.
***
When Roman walked into the workroom, Mia sighed and put down her wire cutters. Layla, the golden lab, surged to her feet and crossed the room, wagging enthusiastically. He dropped to a crouch and ran his hands along her body, nose to tail, in smooth sweeping strokes. She reciprocated by licking his upper arm.
“How’s it going?” Mia asked.
“It’s going. What about you?”
“I’ve been productive. Even Sheryl was pleased with my output which, as you know, is saying a lot these days. What time is it?”
“Almost six. Why don’t I put something together for dinner?”
Mia pushed back from the table, stood, then stretched her arms over her head with a groan. “God, that feels good. I must have been hunching again.”
He stepped over, watching her face carefully to judge her emotional state, before reaching out and placing his hands on her shoulders.
“Here. Let me rub out the knots.”
“You’re worried after yesterday … and the day before. I’m better. Calmer.” She paused and frowned up at him. “You don’t look very happy. Did something happen?”
Roman worked along the top of her shoulders, probing into knots and gently massaging circles with his fingertips. She stretched her head side to side then let out a sigh. He continued for several minutes until her shoulders finally dropped away from her ears and her eyes went soft.
“There you go,” he said before stepping back. “And I didn’t have a bad day, just stalling out on this Eliza case.”
“I’m sorry. That sucks. Let’s talk it out over dinner. By the way, I already made wraps, so we can eat whenever.”
Given that both of them had more or less been cooped up inside, they elected to eat out on the deck despite the lingering heat. Layla, ever sensitive to Roman’s moods, sat beside his chair with her chin resting on the top of his thigh.
“My girls are something else,” he said, smiling down at the yellow lab before rubbing Mia’s arm. “Both of you immediately sense I’m frustrated as all get out and you’re here for me. I must be the luckiest man in the world.”
“Maybe one of them.” She set down her wrap and took a sip of water. “Tell me what’s going on with Eliza.”
“I got hold of both police reports on the deaths in her family. I haven’t had time to do a deep dive, but nothing’s jumping out at me so far. I also talked to the detectives on the cases. They never really looked at Eliza. She didn’t ping anyone’s radar. And now we’re months out, so the evidence has gone ice cold. Tracey Millar handed over the vial of peanut oil Maryanne found in the bathroom, but it’s generic. No labels. I think Eliza might’ve bought it in a beauty supply store or something and transferred the peanut oil from its original container. Right now, I’m considering it a dead end.”
“Is it though?” she asked, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Maybe the vial will talk to me if I ask really, really nicely.”
He nodded. “I was hoping you’d say that. Not to put pressure on you or anything, but this case is basically circling the drain at this point.”
“If you get it, I’ll try right now.”
Roman all but sprinted into the house and back out with Layla matching him step for step. He plopped the Ziplock bag onto the table.
Mia wiped her hands on a napkin and took out the small brown vial. She inspected the outside and like Roman had done, unscrewed the top and took a testing sniff.
“Just give me a sec. I want to get really clear before I try.”
She set the vial down beside her plate then closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, holding each exhale for an extended period of time. Slowly blinking her eyes open, she placed the vial on her left palm and closed her right hand over top, cradling it.
Roman noted his heart rate had ratcheted up and he took his own deep, cleansing breath, all the while watching her. Those changeable hazel eyes of hers had gone to light gold and he knew she was no longer seeing him or anything in her current surroundings.
He wanted, more than anything, to grab her arm and try to force any visions to jump across to his mind, but he was too afraid of breaking her concentration. The quality of the air around him was different now. Less heavy and as though he and Mia and the dogs were losing gravity and might start drifting up off the Earth and levitate above the deck.
It felt like hours were passing, but he knew it was likely only seconds. Finally, she blinked and glanced over to him.
“I think you’ll be really happy when I tell you what I saw.”