I sat at my desk and dialed Chelsea’s number while I began opening the envelope. I got her voicemail. Expecting as much, I left a detailed message. With all the spam risks out there, if you don’t recognize the number, straight to voicemail it goes.
I pulled the seal free and my heart skipped a beat. Inside was a scarf—our majorette alumnae orange and blue scarf. A sticky note fell out of the envelope. In Carol’s handwriting, it read, Give to Lyla Moody before there are ro—.
The rest of the message was smudged with what appeared to be bronze foundation, making it difficult to read. It looked like Mrs. Ross’s shade of choice. Was this Carol’s scarf? Someone else’s? Not Chelsea’s. She’d never attended Sweet Mountain High.
My mind raced back to the picture I’d saved from the dumping ground doc. I pulled it up and compared the two. They were so similar. It would be difficult to make a definite determination without viewing the one they had in evidence. Carol had hidden this. From who?
Panic flooded me, and I shoved the scarf back into the envelope and stuffed it into my bag. I had no idea what to make of this.
My cell rang. I’d hoped the caller was Chelsea but was disappointed. “Uncle Calvin, how’s it going?”
“It’s going. What’s happening there?”
“We have a few new developments. Daddy’s back at home. He and I had a long talk, which was good. Mel is no longer being harassed by the police.” I fingered the envelope. “And Mrs. Ross came in, concerned about her daughter-in-law.”
“What about her?”
“Carol left something at her house.” I debated how much to go into. “A scarf. She thought it might be important.”
“And was it?”
“Yeah, I think it might be. I’m going to do a little digging. Have you heard from Judge Timms?”
“Actually, Lyla, that’s why I’m calling. He’s keeping me updated. There’s been a development in the case.”
My shoulders tensed. Maybe that’s what Quinn had come by to discuss with me. “Do the police have a suspect in custody?”
“I’m afraid not. There’s no easy way to say this.”
“Don’t even try to make it easy.” My tone sounded strong, even to my own ears, and I steeled myself for the worse.
“Very well. With the unusual circumstances surrounding the case, Carol’s heart condition, and the way she was discovered, the coroner has ruled the cause of death undetermined. They’re releasing her body for burial.”
“Wait a minute. You mean they’re not ruling the death a homicide?” No ruling, no crime.
“No, they’re not.”
“That’s bullshit!”
Calvin coughed. “It’s how it goes sometimes in cases, Lyla.”
“So, the most we can expect is unlawful disposal of a corpse?” I couldn’t believe my ears.
“From the information I was given, yes. Without a homicidal cause of death, legally there aren’t many more options.”
“Wait a minute. I thought the judge was vying for a second opinion or something.” I gripped the envelope containing the scarf. Could this even help us now?
“I’m not sure if he obtained one or not. What I do know is, with no hard evidence and taking into consideration that all the alibis of those who could have had involvement checked out, it doesn’t look like we’re going to have answers any time soon.”
“You’re saying they’re not investigating anymore. That’s it?” My tone rose higher than I intended.
“The investigation is ongoing.”
But not as a murder investigation.
“They’re releasing her body to her husband this afternoon. Keeping her in the morgue won’t change the findings.”
“And what will the guy get who did this to her? I mean if they even find him. A slap on the wrist? A felony that might bring three years after good behavior?” I scoffed. “Pathetic. That coroner should have his license revoked.”
“It isn’t easy when a case doesn’t go your way, especially when you have a personal relationship with the victim, but that’s how it is. Hold on a minute.” I heard him talking to our newest client. I made a mental note to remind Calvin about the mute button on his phone. “Okay, I’m back. I’ve only got another minute or so.”
“But what about the man I saw with her? Did they ever locate him?” I massaged my temples.
“You’re the only eyewitness that such a man even exists.” Calvin hadn’t softened his tone, and I took that as a point of pride.
“They don’t believe me then. I just fabricated the entire ordeal. My ruined dress must have appeared out of thin air too.” Is that what Quinn wanted to speak with me about?
Mrs. Ross was right! Carol should have died in another county. I wouldn’t waste my breath on sharing my theories or what I discovered involving the Jane Doe case with our chief of police.
“It isn’t that they don’t believe you. You have to understand resources in our small town are scarce. Even if they wanted to, Sweet Mountain doesn’t have the manpower to hunt down some random individual who may or may not reside here. The person could be from anywhere.”
“And Judge Timms is in agreement with the police?” I stood up and went to get a bottle of water. What I really needed was a stiff drink.
“No. He has his own theory, and I don’t have time to go into it now. Listen, I’ll be out of pocket for a few days, maybe a week. Leave me a message, and I’ll get back at my first opportunity. And Lyla …”
I twisted the cap of the bottle too forcefully, and a little water sloshed out. “Yes?”
“Don’t go doing anything stupid before I get back. Leave this alone.”
I swallowed the sip I’d taken. “I have to find out what happened to her. You know that.”
“Dammit, Lyla. As your boss, I’m ordering you not to do anything until I get back.”
I huffed, then said, “You can count on me.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Because you’re an intelligent yet notoriously suspicious person. I get it. I’m the same way. That’s why we make such great business partners.” There was no way in hell I was letting this drop.
“Let’s stick with receptionist, for now, who helps me out on occasions while she learns the ropes.”
“Suit yourself. I have no qualms proving myself.” I’d do whatever it took to get to the truth. “Seriously, Uncle Calvin, I’m not an idiot.”
“You’re hearing me.”
“Yes. Speak soon.” I disconnected the call, and stalked outside, taking in a deep breath of brisk air. The historic square was alive with pedestrians. The slight coolness in the air was welcome after the brutal summer we’d had. The maple trees strategically positioned around the square swayed in all their glory. Carol had loved fall. God, I was so angry, I didn’t know what to do.
My phone buzzed. I glanced down and read the text in green on my screen.
Want to play a game, Jane Doe?
The bottle of water slipped from my hands and crashed against the ground.
My heart pounded.
“’Morning, Lyla.” A woman I recognized as one of Mother’s friends said with a smile. She had a little toddler in pigtails with her, and they were heading for Smart Cookie. I couldn’t recall her name.
“Good morning.” I groped for it. Nothing. “I … I better get back.”
Back in the office, I texted back.
Who is this?
The little dots were moving on the screen, signifying the sender was typing, and I waited for the text to come through.
The other Jane lost. Will you?
Something knotted in the pit of my stomach. Dear God, … help.