Chapter 8
Miranda had spent most of the morning interviewing what remained of Derek and Aimee Gibson’s family and close connections, starting with Aimee’s brother, and ending with Hannah, Derek’s ex-girlfriend.
This was her final interview for today. And…
the most important. None of the DNA through blood or semen samples taken at the Gibson scene had come back to thirteen-year-old Terra.
Her homework and a half-consumed bottle of apple tea on the desk in her room had also been found.
Those were the only indications that the little girl had been home at the time of the murders.
But even that was not one hundred percent definitive.
Then she disappeared forever.
From the photos she had seen of Terra, including one that PAVAD computer forensic techs had age-progressed, she would have looked a great deal like the sister sitting across the table, staring at Miranda now.
Except for the hair. Terra had had very pale blonde hair—much like one of Miranda’s own sisters.
Hailey Gibson was in her early thirties, very pretty, and a single mother to a three-year-old girl. She worked as a paralegal for the most established law firm in Jasper, Indiana—one county south of where they were now.
She reminded Miranda of countless other young women she had met in this job who had been touched by the darkness. The shadows were still in the woman's blue eyes. Those damned ghosts—once they got in a person’s soul they never left.
Miranda knew that far too well.
Hailey Gibson reminded Miranda most of her cousin Dusty. Dusty had that same quiet and reflective manner. The same expression in her eyes, most times.
One that said she had seen darkness and had survived. Searching for light.
Miranda thought it was because her cousin had almost died at the age of fourteen from a heart condition they hadn't known she'd had and from some dark things that had happened to her since. Dusty had almost not survived, but she was doing okay now.
Hailey's came from what she had seen that day. What she had found. Miranda hurt for the girl she had been that day—for the woman she was. Miranda would never forget the kind of hurt she’d seen in her own baby sister’s eyes when Miranda had been only eleven and a man with no business near children had had Marin in his clutches.
Sometimes, she thought what had happened to Marin had led Miranda to what she did now.
They all had their ghosts. That was where good old Knight would say they all had life scripts caused by the events and traumas they had experienced and how they were personally impacted. So clinical, at times. But Miranda…no. Sometimes, she really did believe in ghosts.
"I want to say again how sorry I am for what happened to your family," Miranda said, taking the chair.
They were in a small interview room at the Daviess County Sheriff's office.
Miranda opened her soda quickly, while the other woman just a year or so older than she was settled across the table.
Hailey rubbed her arms, to ward off a chill in the room that just wasn't there.
Miranda understood. Ghosts could be so cold when they walked across your soul like that.
Hailey nodded. Then met Miranda's gaze head on. "Why is the FBI suddenly interested in our case now? Fifteen years is a long time for no answers. I’ve waited and waited and written emails to all sorts of people and—nothing. So why now?”
"First Sergeant Pierce Asher...is relocating to Texas soon. He put in the request for our division’s help. Detective Asher's sister joined our division several years ago. So we agreed to look at the case, and it met our Cold Case division’s parameters. It’s a newer division."
"He stood with me. That day. He just stood with me. I’ve never forgotten him. People, cops…they ask me questions sometimes. Others just want to pry. I just want answers. I want to know what happened to my sister. I just…I know she’s dead. I just want to know what that bastard did with her."
Miranda nodded. She could understand that on the most elemental level, too. "I understand."
"You have sisters?"
"Two. I nearly lost them both several times recently.” Violently. Marin had nearly bled to death, and Meyra had been abducted and nearly killed by a monster. And Miranda had been too far away to help them. “I can understand how it hurts."
They spoke a few more moments. Then Miranda asked the questions she knew Pierce had asked so long ago. But sometimes time would open the memories that had been too traumatic to face before. "Before...that month. Did your family meet anyone new? Start a new activity?"
"I don't think so. I'm sure this is in the old reports."
Hailey was exhausted by it all, Miranda suspected.
No one wanted to keep going over the most traumatic events of their lives—questioning the families was always the hardest part for her.
It was Miranda’s goal to get Hailey to trust her enough to open up.
Sometimes, the smallest detail could be buried. And it could make all the difference.
"Yes. But sometimes, some distance...we can remember things differently." Miranda made a quick decision. Some interviewees were more receptive to cognitive interviews than others. She was hoping Hailey would be one of them.
She walked Hailey through the calming steps to prep her for a cognitive. "I want you to go back to a week before your family was killed."
There was skepticism on the woman's face, but her eyes closed. "Okay."
"What was that week like? Let's start with Sunday. Aimee had made a note in her day planner that you were with them that weekend."
"Yes. Aimee did that. She was almost always writing something that happened down. She had a Blackberry, too. It went with her everywhere. My dad bought it for her. Said her day planner drove him nuts. It was her most valuable possession. She loved that thing."
Hailey pulled in a deep breath. But she was trembling, shaking. Miranda just waited. “Tell me about Aimee and your dad. Their relationship.”
Hailey smiled, unconsciously. "Aimee was really good for my dad. He laughed a lot when he was with her. She was always flirting with him, too. I saw what healthy relationships should look like when I was with them. My mom never dated much, but…Aimee and my dad were in love."
"Tell me, Hailey...what stands out? What felt wrong about that week?
Did anything?" Miranda asked a few minutes later, after Hailey had relaxed.
Miranda had been careful to not ask too restrictive questions.
But to guide. Now, though, she needed to narrow it down.
"Was Aimee preoccupied? Your dad upset? Was Terra having problems at school? What about Cruz?"
"No. Nothing like that. It was...just a normal week.
Dad had said everything was going okay at work.
I mean, there were problems. There were always problems; but he rarely talked about work at home.
Dad had fired someone the week before. That always made him a little almost melancholy.
Aimee hadn't been feeling well. She was having some problems with her ovaries, I think.
Cysts or something. But they'd put her on new meds the week before.
She'd gone to...a different doctor. I didn't remember that before. "
"We'll check it out. Would she have made a note in her calendar or on her Blackberry?"
"Yes. Probably both. Aimee was like the poster child for OCD. She made notes about everything. If there was something really different about that week, Aimee would have written it down.”
It was a place to start.