Chapter 32 Annie
Annie drove the miles between the lake and town with her foot hard on the gas, aware of every second that ticked by.
Time was precious. Minutes and seconds were all she had in the race against Daniel’s arrest, against his being sent to trial, and after that, the unthinkable possibility of a lifetime in prison.
Annie knew next to nothing about murder trials. She had no idea if the evidence stacked against Daniel was enough to convict him, but if the reaction of Lake Lumin’s citizens to the crime had been any indication, it was hard to imagine a jury finding him innocent.
As it stood now, she was his best hope, his only hope, and if he didn’t kill Jamie, then someone else had.
There was no such thing as a perfect murder.
There was evidence out there somewhere, truth to be uncovered, and she was determined to try, not just for Daniel, the man she’d come to care for, but for sixteen-year-old Nico, who had been running for his life for far too long.
With the red and blue lights swirling atop the Crown Victoria, Annie sped through the town’s lone stoplight and hit the speed bump before the pool with such force that she briefly left her seat.
She whipped into the parking lot and mashed down on the brake, easing the cruiser around the lot with her eyes on the wooden lifeguard stand on the other side of the gate, once inhabited by Jamie, and now by a burly teenaged boy watching a couple of kids splash around in the water with a look of supreme boredom on his face.
Annie rolled by the gate, her heart surging up into her throat as she gazed at the turquoise water filling the massive pool. It rippled like satin in the bright sunlight, beautiful and lethal.
The lifeguard in the stand noticed the cruiser and watched it with mild interest as Annie backed into a spot facing the pool.
She let the car idle for a minute as she gazed through the iron fence.
A young woman was sitting on the edge of the pool, the dyed-blue ends of her hair draped over her shoulders as she stared down at her feet, swishing back and forth in the water.
Annie stared, her mind replaying something Debra had said while Annie and Jake were at the Boyd house.
She was talking to her friend on the phone, the girl with the blue hair, Stephanie…
Annie switched off the engine and climbed out.
The pool gate was unlocked, and she stepped inside.
Three young boys were splashing one another in a shallow corner—their mother’s face hidden behind a magazine as she lounged on one of the deck chairs—and in the middle of the pool, an elderly woman wearing a yellow swim cap and goggles was doing some sort of water aerobics.
Annie walked around the edge of the pool to the girl with her feet in the deep end and lowered herself into a crouch.
“Are you Stephanie?”
The girl lifted her face to look at Annie. Her heavy eyeliner was smeared beneath eyes that were swollen from crying, and her nose was pierced with a small silver stud.
“Yeah.”
“I’m Annie Heston. I work with Jake Proudy over at the police station.”
Stephanie looked Annie up and down as she took a cross-legged seat beside her.
“I want you to know that we’re doing our best to figure out what happened to your friend Jamie. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?”
“Okay.”
Stephanie slowly withdrew her pale legs from the water, pulling her feet up onto the sun-warmed deck and wrapping her hands around her knees.
“I understand the two of you were close?”
The tears that sprang into Stephanie’s eyes were instant, and two quickly spilled over in shining paths down her cheeks.
“We were best friends.”
Annie nodded, offering a small smile, though her heart ached for the young woman beside her.
“And you shared details about your lives with each other? Secrets?”
Stephanie nodded and a third tear fell. “We told each other everything.”
Annie wished she had a handkerchief or a tissue or even a long sleeve to offer this girl, but she didn’t, and Stephanie ran her bare arm noisily under her nose.
“I know this is hard, but it’s really important that we know who Jamie was close to, who she might have been spending time with in the weeks leading up to her death.”
Stephanie looked away, staring into the pool as she thought, the rippling water reflected in her dark eyes.
“I mean, Jamie had just broken up with someone, like a day or two before she died. She had a boyfriend that her parents didn’t know about.”
Annie prepared herself for the blow. “What was his name?”
Stephanie shrugged. “I don’t know. Jamie was weird about it. She wouldn’t tell me. She said he made her promise. That he didn’t want people to know because they might not understand their relationship with her being younger. She said he was a really private guy.”
Annie nodded, trying not to let the emotion warring in her chest show on her face. Private. That was just about the number one adjective she’d use to describe Daniel Barela.
“Are you sure Jamie never mentioned his name? I know best friends sometimes share secrets with each other that they’re supposed to keep. If Jamie told you who he was, I promise the best thing you can do for her right now is to tell me.”
“She didn’t,” Stephanie insisted, dark eyes flashing. “I already told you, I don’t know.”
Annie turned for a moment, watching the three boys at the other end of the pool, one of whom was showing the others how to blast a stream of water through a foam noodle. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to Stephanie and forged ahead.
“Do you think it could have been Daniel Barela?”
Stephanie blinked at her. “That guy who lives at the end of Jamie’s road?”
Annie nodded.
“No.” Stephanie shook her head quickly. “I heard my mom talking about him on the phone and I know people think he did it, but…” She turned back to the pool, brows scrunching together as she thought. “I don’t think he… he… actually, I don’t know if he does.”
Annie leaned forward. “If he does what?”
“If he has a tattoo.” Stephanie turned to meet Annie’s eyes again. “Jamie said her boyfriend had a tattoo. She went on and on about how much she loved it.”
Annie’s heart stuttered in her chest. Daniel did not have tattoos. Not one.
“Are you sure?” Annie leaned forward again. “Are you absolutely positive she said he had a tattoo?”
Stephanie nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure. She loved guys with tattoos.”
Hope was stirring in Annie’s chest. This was something at last. Something to go on.
“Did she mention what kind? Or how many?”
Stephanie pulled her lip into her teeth as she hunted through her memory, then her eyes flickered with some recollection, something dragged forward from her undoubtedly bottomless well of conversations with Jamie.
“At least two, I think. She said ‘tattoos,’ not ‘tattoo,’ I’m… I’m pretty sure. Not positive, but pretty sure. And I can’t remember if she ever said what kind they were. She probably did, but I just can’t remember.”
“Okay.” Annie nodded. “That’s okay.”
She reached out to lay a hand on Stephanie’s back.
“I know you’re going through a lot right now, and I’m so sorry for your loss.
If there’s anything else you remember, anything at all that you think might be worth mentioning, big or small, I want you to come into the station or call and let us know, okay? ”
Tears brimmed in Stephanie’s eyes again at Annie’s condolences, but they stayed in silver half-moons as she nodded and looked away, dropping her feet back into the water.
Annie stood to leave, casting one quick glance in the direction of the manager’s office as she rose.
The door was ajar, and inside, the cluttered desk was vacant.
Ian Ward was not at work today. Ian, who had come into the station to make a show of pointing the finger at Daniel right off the bat. Ian, who had at least one tattoo.
As she walked around the pool on her way out, Annie gazed at the water, the azure of the deep end fading into the aquamarine of the shallows.
For the first time, a new picture was emerging in her mind, a new version of what had happened that night, here, at the pool, where a tattooed man who thought himself a cut above the rest of the town—and certainly above being dumped by Jamie Boyd—had held her head down in the water until she died.
Annie’s fingers were tingling as she strode toward the cruiser, and there was a strange spring in her step, as though the ground itself were propelling her forward.
At last.
At last there was a piece of evidence in her hands pointing at someone other than Daniel Barela.