Chapter Sixty Judson
Chapter Sixty
Judson
My call to the judge about the Hale exhumation had been straightforward. I’d laid out the facts, assuring him I had Raine Hale’s permission, and within the hour he’d signed the order.
Exhumations were rare and messy. They stirred community gossip and drew unwanted media attention.
The funeral home now had a crew scheduled to dig graves for Maria and Gabe Durant on Monday.
Edith had settled very quickly on a traditional burial.
The exhumation would be the same day the graves were dug, and the funerals would be held within the next few days.
Now I headed to Roanoke to speak to a Vivian Collins.
She worked in a hair salon in a suburban strip mall.
She’d agreed to meet me for coffee before her shift.
The café was crowded, people in jeans and sneakers hunched over mugs.
I ordered a black coffee and scanned the room and spotted her in the corner.
Neat, composed. Blond hair cut with precision. Polished nails. The photo I had was nearly two decades old, but the resemblance was there. The fuller-faced girl with shaggy, dark hair had sharpened into this woman.
Amy had left foster care on her eighteenth birthday and turned up at Hale House within days. I couldn’t help but wonder—where would Amy have landed if she hadn’t found Raine?
I stopped a few feet short of the table. “Ms. Collins?”
She looked up, eyes widening slightly. “Yes. Agent Blackwood?”
“Yes, ma’am. Mind if I sit?”
She gestured at the empty chair with her manicured finger. “Of course.”
I slid into the seat. “Appreciate you meeting me.”
“I’m glad you agreed to see me.”
“It’s what I do.” After Vivian’s call, I’d read Amy’s foster care file.
“You want to talk about Amy?”
“Yes. I’m trying to fill in her story.”
“I haven’t seen her in months. And I don’t know who killed her.”
“You two lived in the same house for a while?”
“Two years. We shared a room.”
“What was she like?”
Vivian’s gaze softened. “A lot like me. Wanted more. She wanted to be seen. To matter. To have a real family.”
“Did she talk about her family?”
“Her mother was a user. She lost custody. Got clean. Amy returned home. Her mother messed up again. It’s a typical story.”
“How did she zero in on the Hales?”
“Raine Hale was in the newspaper—the Hales were like local royalty. Amy must have seen her and decided they looked alike. Which they did. When Raine registered in Amy’s high school, Amy’s obsession took root.”
“Obsession?”
“She started saying that her real father was Michael Hale.”
“Raine’s father?”
Vivian nodded. “Claimed that Mr. Hale had promised to take care of her. Add her to the will. But his early death left her in the cold. I told her she was full of it. At first, she laughed. Then she stopped laughing. Insisted it could be real.”
“Did Amy talk about working in Hale House?”
“A couple of times. She said Mrs. Hale was out of it and mean to Raine. She felt a little sorry for Raine.”
“Did you talk to Amy after Mrs. Hale died?”
Vivian leaned in and lowered her voice. “She came to my shop before the funeral. I saw the change in her.” She leaned forward. “She gave me a picture of Raine and said she wanted to look just like her.”
“And that’s the last time you saw Amy?”
Vivian’s nails clicked against her cup. “She came in the shop last winter. She had another picture. It was of Raine. I’d thought she’d let it all go, but I guess not.”
“Did you call her out on copying Raine?”
“Why? It’s her hair. Her life. And if I said anything, she’d have ignored me. When Amy was focused, there was no changing her mind. So, I cut it and added the highlights.”
“Was she seeing anyone?”
“Amy said there were a couple of guys she liked. I can tell you, if she wanted a guy, she could spin her spell and make anyone follow her. She knew how to get what she wanted.”
I thought about the “family” picture Amy had taken with Gabe and Molly. She looked like Raine. Hair, makeup, jewelry. Someone who didn’t look twice could easily have mistaken Amy for Raine.
“She dealt drugs.”
“Yeah. Coke and pot. Small time, but enough to put money in her pocket.” A frown furrowed her brow. “I don’t want to tear down Amy now. She wasn’t that different than me. We didn’t have role models. She saw someone she wanted to be and became her.”
“Who influenced you?”
“A hairdresser. I had bleached my hair to the point of ruining it. What didn’t break off was fried.
My foster mom took me to her and asked for an intervention.
Cassidy was kind, and when she was finished, I was back to looking normal.
I asked her if I could get a job in her salon.
She agreed. I spent the next few years learning everything I could. I still work for her.”
“Ever meet Raine?”
“No.”
“Who do you think killed Amy?”
“Kids like us are desperate, and that makes you reckless. I got lucky. Amy didn’t.”
“Fair enough.”
Vivian hesitated, and then added, “Maria Cooper came into the salon recently. Asked for me by name. She’d heard I was good.”
“When was this?”
“About a month ago. I was rinsing her hair when she asked me about Amy.”
“How’d she even know about you?”
“She said Amy mentioned me. I thought it was about hair, but no. Maria wanted me to deliver a message.”
“What message?”
“That Amy wasn’t a Hale. That soon she’d be out on her ass. She wasn’t climbing the Hale ladder.”
“Ladder?”
Vivian shrugged. “Maria was sure she ranked higher on the Hale ladder.”
“Where did Maria see herself on the ladder?”
A small, satisfied smile tipped the edges of her lips. “On par with Raine.”