Chapter Seven

The Verbena Free Press

October 10

By Desiree Turner and Rafe Valdez

Mayor Confesses to Wrongdoing

Mayor Wilburn has revealed that he has accepted money and other gifts in exchange for steering construction contracts toward Canty Construction in a long and detailed interview. Speaking to Free Press reporter Desiree Turner, Wilburn said, “I’m so terribly ashamed. I love this town and everyone in it. I’ve let them down.”

When asked why he had accepted the gifts, he said, “I don’t make much as mayor and it is pretty much a full-time job. For a while, I made it with my savings, but those are running out.”

According to Wilburn, he returned the last attempted bribe. “I couldn’t keep living like this. I’d done wrong and I had to stop. I returned all the money and the contract went to a different construction company.”

Wilburn says that he plans to step down from his office and sell his home. “I hate the idea of leaving Verbena, but I don’t feel I can show my face on the street anymore.”

*   *   *

The next day, we put Frank Fiore to rest. As always, after Uncle Joey had wheeled him in, I did a quick check to make sure everything looked right before his daughters arrived. He looked pretty darn good for someone who had been as ill as he had been. Daisy came in while I was checking. I steeled myself for getting reamed out for suspecting her sister of doing something wrong, but either she had forgiven me or Iris hadn’t said anything.

She put her hand on his shoulder. “Aw, Dad. I’m sorry.”

I looked over at her. “He had a hard time at the end, didn’t he?”

“Yes. It seems so unfair. He really suffered.” She cocked her head to one side. “He was such a good dad. He made me feel so special all the time. He used to call Iris and me his little flowers.”

“Those are good memories to focus on.” I had more than a few of those. Hiking with Dad at Cold Clutch Canyon. Surfing. Him cheering for me at volleyball games as if I was in the Olympics. I smiled, then bit back a yawn. Rafe and I had been up late the night before finishing our article about Mayor Wilburn to make sure it was part of the morning’s paper. It had been close to two o’clock when he’d pulled a bottle of Wild Turkey out of his lower desk drawer and we’d toasted our scoop.

The bourbon had warmed my stomach and given me a tingle or was that because Rafe had come around from his side of the desk to sit closer to me? “Strong work, Turner,” he had said. “Very strong.”

“You weren’t too shabby yourself.” I’d clinked my glass against his. Orion had gotten up from where he’d curled up in the corner—on a blanket Rafe had put out for him—and had pushed against me, clearly ready to go home. All he’d done, however, was somehow push me until I was off balance and tip me right into Rafe.

Rafe’s eyes had widened in surprise and, for a second, our faces were inches apart. Orion barked and I’d put down my glass and said I needed to get home.

I shook myself back into the present.

Daisy said, “I don’t really want to remember this last bit too well. He looks pretty good now, though.”

“He must have been really handsome in his younger days.” He had a strong nose and a cleft chin. It was a handsome face.

“Oh, yeah. Totally like that guy from Under the Tuscan Sun. Raoul Bova?”

I looked in. “I can see the resemblance.” I also noticed something wrong with his hand. His pinky finger stuck out at an odd angle. Uncle Joey didn’t usually make mistakes. I reached in to straighten it, but Daisy stopped me.

She held up her hand. Her pinky finger went off in the same direction. “It won’t straighten,” she said. “It’s genetic apparently.”

“Interesting,” I said. “If you don’t need anything right now, I’m going to go check on the guest book and the programs.”

I left her gazing at her father. I checked on everything else and greeted people as they came in. Olive, Henrietta, and Grace arrived and took their usual spots. I folded up their walkers to lean them against the wall out of the way.

“Frank’s getting a nice showing,” Olive observed.

“He always was popular,” Grace said with a chuckle.

Olive gave her hand a little slap. “That was years ago. Frank hasn’t had the energy to flirt for years.”

“People remember even if you’ve been sick a long time,” Henrietta said. “And he certainly was.”

“He was lucky that Iris was willing to give up so much to take care of him. She did a beautiful job. Anywhere else, he probably wouldn’t have lasted as long as he did,” Grace said.

I felt extra bad that I had suspected her of wrong-doing.

“I’m not sure she did him any favors,” Olive said. “He might have been better off if he’d checked out a little earlier.”

“She certainly would have been,” Henrietta said. “I can’t imagine how much money they ran through keeping him alive. She’ll be lucky if there’s a pot left to pee in when it’s all settled.”

“Don’t know what she’ll do if there’s not anything there. She hasn’t worked as anything but his caretaker since before she came back home and I doubt that deadbeat of an ex-husband of hers will help with much.” Grace shook her head.

All three clucked their tongues.

“Nice article this morning, by the way, Desiree,” Olive said nudging me with her elbow. “Quite the scoop you and Rafe cooked up. I don’t think anyone even suspected the mayor hadn’t been thoroughly on the up-and-up.”

Except Violet, of course. She’d suspected enough to have a photo of him accepting bribes. She’d known who to watch and how to watch them. Maybe it was part of always looking for a way to fit in. “Oh, I’m sure there were other people who were starting to nose around. We just got there first.”

“That’s not the scuttlebutt that’s going around,” Grace said.

I snorted. Scuttlebutt moved faster than wildfire around here and wildfires could move damn fast. “Oh, really. What does the scuttlebutt say?”

“That you stumbled across some kind of clue that someone else might have just tossed aside, but you followed it up instead.” She looked up at me, one eye squinted shut. “They’re not quite sure where you stumbled across that first clue, though. Care to share?”

I shook my head. “A reporter never reveals her sources.”

“Fine.” Olive sniffed. “We’ll figure it out, though. Just you wait and see.”

That worried me a bit. The last thing I wanted was for the three of them to somehow put themselves in danger by poking into Canty Construction’s business. It might very well be the reason my father had never come back from his early morning surf. “I promise I’ll share as soon as I can, okay? Until then, maybe stay away from this one. Titus Canty might be more dangerous than he seems.”

“What does that mean?” Grace demanded.

“It might mean nothing. I just want you three to stay safe, okay?” I pointed to my eyes and then to them to indicate that I’d be watching them then went back over to the front where a crowd was beginning to bunch up near the entrance. Daisy was in the center of the crowd. I made some subtle suggestions for people to move to their seats and the crowd broke up a bit.

“It’s always been like that,” Iris said at my elbow.

I jumped. “I’m sorry. What has?”

“Daisy. She was born first and she makes sure she stays first in everything.” Iris shook her head. “Everyone always flocks to her. I’m always the one coming up behind everyone and mopping everything up. Doing what needs to be done while nobody even notices.”

I could relate to that. “People notice,” I said. “I’ve heard a number of people talking about what good care you took of your father.”

Iris gave me a strange look and seemed about to say something when were were interrupted by a teenaged girl coming up beside Iris. She had that leggy gazelle look that a lot of teenagers have. Her hair was glossy and her eyes were bright. “Mom?”

“Where are you going to apply for school, Rose?” An older gentleman asked the girl.

She smiled, revealing a set of braces. “I’m looking at Stanford, Berkeley, and UC Santa Barbara right now.”

“Good schools,” he said.

“She’s got great grades and test scores. She won the regional science fair, you know. All about genetics. I think she has a good chance,” Iris said, puffing up a bit.

“Oh, I’m sure. Maybe she’ll get a scholarship. Some of those places are so expensive these days.” The man shook his head. “Of course, you’ll have some money from Frank to help with that.”

Iris suddenly looked like she was barely keeping her temper. “I have it covered,” she said. “I can take care of my child.”

“Of course. Of course.” He started to cough. Daisy came over and said, “Oh, Uncle Leo, let me help you find a seat. Do you need a cough drop?” She pulled one out of her pocket and they walked away on a cloud of honey, lemon, and menthol.

Rose looked at me and rolled her eyes a bit.

“Is everyone asking you the same set of questions? Where are you applying? What do you want to study? I remember my senior year here. I felt like I should wear a sandwich board with the answers to those two questions on it.” One more of the reasons I’d been happy to skedaddle out of here.

“The questions do get a little repetitive. I get it. They’re important decisions. It doesn’t help that much to keep talking about it, though.” Rose shook her head and laughed. “Cool article in the paper this morning.”

I laughed. “Kids read newspapers still? I thought print was dead.”

“I read it online,” she admitted. “Still, who knew Verbena had so much crazy stuff going on? I mean, Mayor Wilburn? Taking bribes? Crazy.”

I knew what she meant.

A young woman I didn’t recognize came in. White, tall, and thin, with an athletic grace to her movements. Iris’s hand went to her mouth. “Oh, Jenny, you didn’t have to come.”

The woman put her arms around Iris. “I know. I wanted to, though. I’ve been with you guys so long you feel like family. You know Frank was one of my favorite patients, too.”

I looked over at Rose. “Hospice nurse,” she mouthed. I nodded. That was nice of her to come to the service.

“He loved you, too, Jenny,” Iris said, her voice quaking a bit.

“Are you okay? Remember to take care of yourself.” Jenny held Iris out from her and looked her up and down. “You were such a dedicated daughter, so conscientious, so scrupulous. Absolutely fastidious. I know it was exhausting. Be sure to pamper yourself a bit now.”

Iris laughed. “Somehow getting a pedicure doesn’t seem high on my priority list right now.”

“Well, then take a walk or a nap or a trip to the coast. Anything. Promise?” Jenny asked.

Iris nodded. “I promise. Just as soon as I get Dad’s affairs squared away.”

Pastor Campbell came in. I ushered everyone to their seats and the service started.

Olive was right. Frank did get a good showing. I moved over to the side of the Magnolia Room. Out of the way, but around in case I was needed.

*   *   *

The last twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind. Finding Violet’s blackmail photos of the mayor, figuring out what the photos meant, confronting Mayor Wilburn, writing the article, then Frank Fiore’s funeral. Fatigue dragged at my legs, making every step seem like a huge effort. Orion looked even more tired than I felt.

After I got back from the Lawn of Heaven Cemetery where Frank Fiore was laid to eternal rest, I headed straight up to my room and collapsed on the bed. Orion curled up on the rug. I set the alarm on my phone for twenty minutes and shut my eyes, still with all my clothes—even the pantyhose!—on. When the alarm went off, it felt like I’d only closed my eyes for seconds, but I knew from experience if I slept much longer than that, I’d never get to sleep that night. I hauled myself upright. Orion lifted his head, sniffed the air once, then set his head back down and closed his eyes.

I stripped out of my clothes and took a quick shower. With my hair still wrapped up in a towel and the rest of me wrapped up in a terrycloth bathrobe, I snuggled back under the covers. I wasn’t quite ready to go back out and face the world yet. My eyes lit on Violet Daugherty’s shoebox. I hadn’t had a chance to go through the rest of it. What other treasures did she have in there? I snagged it from the top of my desk where it sat and pulled it over to me on the bed and flipped the lid open.

There were the photos of the very flexible couple on the lat pull and the grumpy neighbor. There was also a photo of a man sniffing a shoe followed up by one of him licking the same shoe. I set those aside. I didn’t know him and I doubted it would be at all newsworthy. Dad used to say that pot had its lid. Maybe ever shoe had its sniffer, too.

The other items were more mysterious. I looked at the thumb drives and the DVD. I hesitated to plug them into my own laptop. What if there was a virus or something on them? Violet’s laptop? I had fewer qualms about that. I did my contortionist maneuver again to get the laptop and fired it up, then I plugged in the DVD. It took a second to come up, but then I saw video of a woman pulling up to a curb in a minivan, letting her children out, then taking a little glass bottle out of her purse and dumping it into her travel mug before driving off. In fact, there were three sequences of the same thing on what looked three separate occasions. I recognized the street she was driving on, too. If you squinted, you could see the roller slide at Manor Park in the background. It was the park right next to the elementary school. This took place right here in Verbena. After watching them, I backtracked and zoomed in on the bottle. Video quality got decidedly worse the closer I zoomed in, but I was betting on vodka. Everyone always said it was odorless. That had not been Jasmine’s and my experience when we’d tried to sashay past her mother after an evening spent drinking out by the edge of the creek with a bunch of other high school seniors. We’d both been grounded for weeks.

I typed diabetes and alcohol into a search engine, curious to see if there might be some connection that would explain Vodka Mom having insulin as well as a minivan. I sat back, chewing on the side of my thumb as I read. There was definitely a connection. There were several ways drinking too much alcohol could trigger diabetes in a person. Booze can make a person’s body less sensitive to insulin and cause them to develop type 2 diabetes. Drinking way too much can cause an inflammation of the pancreas, which can then trigger diabetes. It wasn’t any kind of proof, but it did give me some ideas.

I picked up the fingerprint card. That one was still baffling. I put that with the photos. Then I put in one of the thumb drives. A whole set of photo icons came up. I started clicking on them. Most of them were of people I didn’t know. I didn’t even recognize them. A lot of them were of people doing what looked like pretty ordinary things, then again the mayor accepting an envelope from a guy in a suit looked pretty ordinary when you didn’t have context for it. Once you knew that the man in the suit was the head of a construction company known for bribing city officials, it looked a lot different. It still wasn’t proof of anything, but it had been enough to get us asking questions.

I was about halfway through the photos when my phone buzzed. It was a photo from Jasmine of a wine bottle sitting on a café table. A message followed it. “How fast can you get here?”

I snapped Violet’s laptop shut. “Twenty minutes.”

*   *   *

I met Nate and Jasmine at Tappiano’s for Hometown Happy Hour where drinks were half price if you could point to your photo in any one of the dozens of Verbena High Year Books that Mark Tappiano kept around. We sat out on the patio so I could keep Orion with us, a light breeze playing across us and rustling the leaves of the linden trees planted along the sidewalk. Monique had brought out a water bowl for Orion as well as wine for us. Jasmine raised a glass of Zinfandel and said, “To our very own Christiane Amanpour. Everyone’s talking about your article.”

I tried to keep the smile off my lips. After all, it wasn’t good to find corruption in your town. I couldn’t help it, though. It was a solid article. “Thanks.”

“How did you figure it out?” Nate asked, clinking his glass against mine, too.

I shook my head and mimed locking my lips with a key and throwing it away.

He sighed. “Fine. Have you found out anything more about Violet?”

I bit my lip and didn’t say anything.

Jasmine set her glass down with a bump. “They’re connected, aren’t they?”

“I didn’t say that,” I protested.

“You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face. And in your whole body, to be honest.” Sometimes it really sucked to have a best friend who’s a therapist. She was way too good at reading me.

Nate leaned in. “Violet knew about the mayor?”

I looked around to see who else might be listening. Nobody was near. “She did. I found some … something in her house that pointed me in that direction. Mayor Wilburn confirmed it. She was blackmailing him.”

“Blackmail? Do you think Mayor Wilburn killed her to keep her quiet?” Jasmine’s brown eyes were huge in her face.

I shook my head. “No. You should have seen how fast he folded when Rafe and I confronted him. I don’t think he has that kind of nerve.”

Luke Butler slid into the fourth seat at the table as if we’d been expecting him and signaled Monique for a beer. Yes. A beer at a wine bar. That was Luke all over. He leaned down and said, “You still haven’t found a home for Orion?” he asked.

“Not yet.”

Jasmine looked at me through narrowed eyes. “Have you run an ad about him yet?” she asked.

“Not yet. It’s been busy. I haven’t had time to put it together. I need to sort through all those photos we took to pick one or two. It’s going to be hard. Each one is more adorable than the last.” I didn’t meet her eyes.

She picked up my phone and hit a button so the screen came alive. She pointed at the photo of Orion with his paws crossed in the leaves, which was now my screen background. “What about this one?”

“The focus isn’t good. I need to retake it.” I grabbed my phone back from her.

Jasmine took a sip of her wine. “Mm-hmm. What about a Facebook post or a tweet?”

I’d spent more time on Violet’s social media than I had on my own. “Not yet.”

“You’re keeping this dog, aren’t you?” Jasmine asked.

I shrunk down in my chair. “Maybe.”

“Donna’s going to hate that.” She took a sip of her wine.

I knew Jasmine was right. “I think I might be able to talk her into letting me keep him. He’s really friendly. He seems to like everybody and everybody likes him. You should have seen him with this one client. It was like he knew exactly what to do to comfort her. She thought he was a trained therapy dog.”

“Maybe he is,” Nate said. “Who else would know besides Violet?”

Violet knew about a lot of things, a lot of things no one else seemed to have noticed around this town, things that other people should have noticed. I turned to Luke. “You were on the force when my Dad disappeared, right?”

He gave me a wary glance. “Yeah.”

“Did anybody look into the funerals we’d had right before it happened?” I asked. It was always possible that someone had done that kind of due diligence. It wasn’t likely, but it was possible.

“Why?” he asked.

Monique came out and set Luke’s beer in front of him. I waited until she’d gone back inside. “It’s possible that he found out something about someone and they made him disappear to keep that secret.”

Luke looked confused. “But they’d be dead already.”

“Not them. Their family maybe. Or their employer.” I rolled my eyes. What would it be like to be that literal?

Luke gave me a funny look. “What were you thinking? What kinds of secrets?”

“My dad buried Broderick Gunter right before his disappearance. Gunter worked for Canty Construction, the same Canty Construction that has just been exposed for bribing our mayor.”

“So you think your father figured out something like that while arranging Gunter’s funeral, threatened to expose people, and someone murdered him to cover it up?” He tapped on the table for a second. “I thought you said your dad was alive still. That you saw him on your back porch in a video.”

“I did,” I insisted. “Maybe someone made him disappear. Or he disappeared himself. Maybe he did it to protect us, to keep us safe.”

Luke looked over at Jasmine and then at Nate. Nobody would meet his eyes. “Desiree, I get it. You want your father to be alive. I saw that video. It’s way too dark to know if that’s your father or not. As to your father’s disappearance, there was absolutely no evidence of foul play. Nothing was missing. There were no signs of violence.”

“There wasn’t any evidence of anything,” I broke in. “An absence of evidence doesn’t prove anything. He was just gone and I don’t see how that could happen.” My voice broke. I cleared my throat to cover it, but I didn’t think anyone was fooled. Orion’s ears perked up and he got up from where he was lying on the sidewalk and rested his chin on my leg.

Luke put his hand over mind. “Desiree, your Dad wasn’t murdered. No one was murdered. He didn’t stumble onto a big conspiracy and go into witness protection. He went surfing by himself and he didn’t come back. End of story.”

“You know what, Luke?” Jasmine broke in. “Not end of story. Desiree has been right about so many things since she got home. She was right about Kyle and you didn’t want to listen to her. Nobody knew about the mayor and she figured that out, too. Maybe it’s time you listened to her, don’t you think?”

I stared at her, my mouth open a tiny bit. We’d always had each other’s backs before, but I’d felt pretty isolated out there with my theories about my dad. Apparently I wasn’t so alone anymore. “How about you listen to Nate and me about Violet Daugherty, too?” I asked.

Luke hit the table with his fist, making our wine glasses jump and making Orion yip. “Absolutely not. You’re seeing murder everywhere. You’re riling everyone up, getting everyone upset. People are afraid you’re going to randomly accuse them of something. I won’t have it.”

“I haven’t randomly accused anyone of anything. If any accusations have been made, there have been reasons.” I patted Orion to calm him down.

“Well, stop looking for reasons, okay? Everything was easy here before you came home. Everything was calm. I want it to go back that way.” He flung himself back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. I half expected him to stick out his lower lip.

*   *   *

Nate walked Orion and me home. The sun had started to go down and our shadows stretched before us, snaking along the road. The temperature had started to drop, too, and the wind picked up. It smelled like rain again. It seemed like a storm was coming, but nothing had yet appeared. Orion lifted his head, sniffed at the air, and gave a happy bark.

“Do you think we should drop the Violet thing?” I asked. “Luke was getting pretty upset.”

He looped his arm over my shoulders. The warmth felt good. “Since when do you care if Luke is upset or not?”

I slipped my free hand into his back pocket. “I don’t. Well, I don’t care if he’s upset with me. I can ignore him if I want to. You actually have to work with him from time to time, though.”

He pulled me a little closer. “I can handle Luke.”

There was a little more steel in his voice than I was used to hearing. I glanced up, but his expression remained impassive. I’d known this man nearly my whole life and I still found him impossible to read. “Okay then.”

We got to Turner Family Funeral Home and walked up the back stairs. Nate brushed away the hair that the wind had whipped across my face and leaned down to kiss me. I stepped into the kiss, to get closer, but Orion had other ideas. He nosed his way in between us and barked.

Nate leaned down and scratched behind Orion’s ears. “No need to get jealous, buddy boy. We’re all here together.”

Once I was inside, I refilled Orion’s bowls and then rummaged in the refrigerator for leftovers of whatever it was Donna and Greg and made for dinner. Chicken. There were even some mashed potatoes left. I made a plate to put in the microwave.

Donna came in and sat down heavily at the table. “Don’t bother laying out the programs for the Dickerson service. They canceled.”

“What?” Nobody canceled. Once people signed in, they generally did not sign out. We were like Hotel California.

“Yeah. It was weird. We already did the cremation so they’ll be by to pick up the ashes tomorrow. She said they decided to go a different direction with the service.” Donna leaned back and put her feet up on the opposite chair.

“Okay, then.” It was unusual, but not crazy. Sometimes people realized they wanted to wait to have a service until more people could be there or until the mourners were a little more together. The microwave dinged. I pulled my plate out. “We still have the Sizemores tomorrow afternoon, though, right?”

Donna nodded. “Yep. You good to go on that one? I e-mailed you the video.”

“I’ve got it. I think I’m set.” Ironically, Zenia’s review of our files had bolstered my confidence.

*   *   *

I felt a whole lot less confident when Orion woke me up barking and growling. I rolled over and looked at the clock. It was after one. “Hush, boy. It’s time to sleep.”

He grabbed my blankets in his teeth and pulled them off the bed. Then he started barking again.

“Make that dog be quiet,” Donna yelled from her room.

“I’m trying,” I yelled back.

For a second Orion hushed and that’s when I heard it. A crashing sound. Glass breaking. I flipped on the light. Orion ran to the door of my room and barked at it until I opened it, then he rushed downstairs. I followed flipping on lights as I went.

By the time I reached the ground floor, I could hear Uncle Joey thundering after me. I was about to head into the basement, but Orion took a sharp right turn when we passed the Magnolia Room and headed into the kitchen we use when we’re setting up for a reception.

There was glass everywhere. I snatched up Orion—no easy feat considering how much he weighed—to keep him from cutting his feet.

Uncle Joey came up behind me, breathing heavily. “What happened?”

“Someone tried to break in.” I gestured with my chin toward the side door. Its panes had been smashed in.

*   *   *

DeAndre of Roosevelt Window Repair put the last pane into place. “That should do it for now, Desiree. I’ll come back tomorrow to make sure everything is set right.”

“Thanks. Maybe I should apply for a frequent flyer discount.” I rubbed my eyes as I watched DeAndre put away his tools. DeAndre had been the one to replace the glass at Violet’s house, too.

DeAndre laughed. “Trouble does seem to follow you, doesn’t it?”

Donna kicked me lightly under the table. “That’s exactly what I’ve been saying for years.”

“You don’t have to wait up,” I told her. “Especially not if you’re going to assault me.”

“I wasn’t assaulting you. I was making a point.” She stuck out her tongue at me.

“With your foot.” I kicked her back. Just a little.

DeAndre laughed. “You two crack me up. You remind me of me and my sister. Always squabbling, but take after one of us. Look out, man.”

Carlotta stretched and yawned. “Why would someone break in here?”

“Whaddaya mean?” DeAndre said. “People are dying to get in here.”

I smiled, but not with a lot of enthusiasm. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard that particular joke.

DeAndre shook his head. “Tough crowd.” He snapped his tool box shut. “See you tomorrow.”

Donna walked him out.

“Have you had a lot of break-ins recently?” I hadn’t been reading the police blotter lately. Maybe there was something going on that would make a good article.

“Not really. Just the one at Violet Daugherty’s and this one.” Carlotta considered for a moment. “Whoever did this one did a much more professional job. They used the same technique, but they were a lot more careful. Better prepared. They didn’t even cut themselves. I’m actually surprised you heard it. It was probably pretty quiet.”

“I didn’t hear it. Orion did.” I patted his head.

She turned slowly around in the room. “Any idea what they might be after?”

I was about to say no, but then I remembered the shoebox, the one that had contained what I’d needed to expose the bribery scandal. There were lots of things in that box. Lots of people who Violet might have been blackmailing. Maybe one of them figured out that I had her stash and wanted it back. It seemed like too much of a coincidence to have the only two break-ins be at Violet’s and then at Turner’s, especially when the technique used to break in was the same.

“Desiree?” Carlotta pressed.

“Let me think about it,” I said. I wasn’t quite ready to hand that box over to the police yet. I wanted a few more answers myself first. “By the way, did you ever talk to the neighbor about the car she saw cruising in Violet’s neighborhood?”

Carlotta nodded. “Yeah. She wasn’t totally sure. She thought it was some kind of Honda or Toyota.”

“What color?”

“Green.”

The woman with the vodka in her thermos in Violet’s photos had a dark-colored car. It could easily be a green Honda or Toyota. I could see a person who was a little drunk thinking they might be able to get away with breaking into a place with an alarm system like Violet’s and then maybe sobering up a bit and doing a better job on the next place they broke into.

Perhaps it was time to have a little chat with Vodka Mom.