Chapter 16
Nothing she hadn’t expected, honestly. They’d been giving her problems since she’d gotten Bentley to begin with. She half-suspected if her father hadn’t been a very famous diplomat and everything, she might not have finalized the adoption yet, either.
Sometimes Gerald Talley came in handy.
"I'm sorry, Dr. Talley." The woman behind the desk had been polite enough, but the answer hadn't changed. "Case worker assignments from that far back aren't something I can just pull up. And even if I could, I'm not sure I'd be authorized to release that information."
“It was less than two years ago.” Miranda shot the woman a knowing look.
They both were well-aware she was getting the runaround right now.
"I'm not asking for case files. Just a name.
Whoever was assigned to my son's case when he was placed in foster care in this county, so that I can follow up on some leads regarding the case in which he was found.
You know, the federal investigation into his serial killer father, and everything.
I know your office wants to be…helpful."
And not only Miranda wanted answers. The director of PAVAD had told her to keep digging until she found them.
"I know. You're welcome to submit a formal request. I can give you the forms." She gave Miranda that suck-a-lemon look again. So interesting.
"How long does a formal request take?" She strongly suspected there would be ‘unexpected delays’ and all that good stuff. Someone was giving her the runaround right now. She just didn’t know why.
"Depends. Four to six weeks, usually. Sometimes longer if they need additional documentation."
"I'll take the forms." Of course she would.
She was going to follow every protocol out there to cover herself.
And then she was going to go after what she needed, however she could make it happen.
Even if it meant calling in a few favors; she did work PAVAD, after all.
With people who were very, very skilled at what they did. Including the attorneys.
Gerald Talley hadn’t raised a fool, after all. Neither had her grandmother. Miranda knew when a game was being played. This time…it involved her son. And she would never take that lightly.
The woman pulled a packet from her desk drawer and handed it over. "Is there anything else I can help you with today?"
"No. You have been incredibly helpful, actually. Proven my point beautifully. Thank you for your time. I will be in touch—or my representative will."
Miranda was halfway across the parking lot when her phone rang.
She answered, quickly. "Dr. Talley."
"Dr. Talley, it's Hannah Philpott. Uh…Derek Gibson’s ex…well, ex-girlfriend. Am I catching you at a bad time?"
"No. I just finished up. What can I do for you?" She’d left the woman her card the last time they’d spoken. The interview had just confirmed what was already suspected; Derek Gibson was well liked, and no one knew anyone with a problem with the man or his family. Not even his ex-girlfriend.
"I found something. I was cleaning out my garage this morning, and there's a box of Derek's stuff back there. I forgot I even had it."
"What kind of stuff?"
"I'm not sure, honestly. I never really went through it. After everything happened, I cleaned out his Jeep so Hailey could drive it. She needed a car, and Derek's Jeep was just sitting there. Nobody else was going to use it. And he’d mentioned giving it to her before, and keeping Aimee’s old Ford Escort for Terra…
when she…was old enough." Hannah paused for a moment. Miranda understood—Hannah had loved her ex’s children, too.
Grief and violence touched so many lives.
And they left their ghosts behind. "I just threw everything in a box and stuck it in the back of the garage.
Figured I'd deal with it eventually. But I never really did. I think a part of me didn’t want to, you know? "
Well, Miranda could understand that. "And you found it this morning?"
"After we spoke, I just…kept reliving that week. Then I remembered that box. I checked, and it was still in my garage.”
"Do you know what's in it?" It could be relevant, and it could be nothing. That had happened so many times before. But Miranda had learned never to just assume anything. Pierce had mentioned the rest of the Gibsons’ belongings were in storage somewhere—Miranda wasn’t clear where—but if there was something relevant in those things, she suspected it would have already been found.
Pierce and his predecessor on the case had definitely been thorough.
"Not really. I opened it up, took a quick look. There are some papers, I think. I don’t know if the police ever even looked through that Jeep.
It was at our house the night of the murders.
She’d just gotten her permit and he let her drive it home then he’d walked back. Would you…do you want the box?”
"I do. Thank you."
"I'm at work right now, but my shift ends soon. I can run home and grab the box and meet you back here.”
"Where's here?"
"The grocery store on East National Highway. We’re in a strip mall. I'm the manager. You can meet me in the parking lot. Four-thirty?"
Miranda glanced at her watch. That gave her enough time. "I'll be there."
"All right. See you then."
Ten minutes later she was waiting in the parking lot when Hannah came out.
Miranda walked with her to her van. Hannah Philpott was almost as tall as Miranda, had light blond hair that was starting to go gray, and a nervous mannerism that told Miranda she was probably very reserved.
Almost shy. Hannah opened the back and removed a battered box that had seen far better days. “Here. It’s probably just…junk.”
Miranda took the box from her. It smelled like dust and old cardboard that had been damp and redried. "You never know."
"Hailey doesn't know I called you. I wasn't sure if I should tell her or not.
" Hannah looked at the box. There were tears in her eyes when she looked back at Miranda. That was what had struck Miranda before—Hannah had loved Derek Gibson…and his other children. She’d been actual friends with Aimee.
Hannah had lost people she loved that night, too.
Miranda had said it before—violence poisoned everyone it touched.
"I don't know if that's going to help or make it worse. Finding that."
"I'll let you know if there's anything in it."
"You don't have to. I've made my peace with it, as much as I'm going to. It's Hailey I worry about. It has taken a long time to get her to a point where she’s…emotionally healthy.”
"I understand. I know how…trauma…can hurt. And I know what it does to a mother to see it.”
“You have children?”
Miranda just nodded. She didn’t share details of Bentley on the job that often.
"I think it’ll be a lifelong process. But Hailey is doing okay now.
She went through a rough spot about four years ago—but she’s good now.
And my granddaughter…she’s beautiful and wonderful.
Hailey is getting through. I hope you find something.
I really do. My girl deserves answers. And so do Derek and Aimee. ”
They all did. Violence hurt them all.