My trembling legs could barely hold my weight. I leaned against the desk and pointed at the screen. “Open it,” I said, my voice thick.
“Which one?” Ryan had been working down the list one by one.
I grabbed the mouse from him. “Right here.” I clicked the email.
“After everything I’ve done for you,” the email started, “you pull this garbage. Enough is enough. I want the money or else.”
At the bottom, someone named “The Madame” signed her name. At least I assumed it was a woman by the signature, though anyone could have been on the other side of the message.
“I can’t believe this,” I said, my voice shaking.
Ryan sat back in the chair; his hand brushed his brow. “It’s right there. The evidence we need.”
“What do you mean?”
He pointed to the time stamp. “Joe died on June twenty-seventh; this email is dated June twenty-seventh, ten forty-eight in the morning.”
Ryan scrolled down and a reply message from Joe made my heart skitter.
“Keep your skirt on. I’ll get you your money.”
That was more of an indication that the sender was a girl, but I left my mind open to the alternative—though I was sure Joe knew whom he was talking to.
“He was supposed to meet this person,” I said.
“Time of death was between two and four,” Ryan said.
Ryan had the case file memorized. What I would have given for a memory like that for the SATs!
“He didn’t show up,” I said.
“How do you know?”
“I spoke with him around noon and he was at the house,” I said. “That would give The Madame reason to come after Joe.”
“A motive,” Ryan said thoughtfully. “We would need more evidence.”
I read the email again, a tingling sensation ran up my arms. The idea that Joe’s death might be a homicide had driven me to find out the truth. The hard facts were disturbing and I almost wished I hadn’t eaten prior to reading the emails. My stomach churned and the aftertaste of the burger wasn’t helping.
“What kind of evidence?” I asked.
Ryan crossed his arms. “In the perfect world, we could find The Madame and get a confession.”
I moved away from the desk, not wanting to read the email again. “And we live in the real world.”
“We could find The Madame and see if this person is capable of following up with her threats.”
For the sake of conversation, I stuck with the obvious nature of the nickname and that The Madame was female. At least until we were proved wrong. “Why do you think she didn’t?”
Ryan rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t like to jump to conclusions. Besides, Joe was a big guy. And smart, too, right?”
Ryan spoke about Joe as if he knew him. It rubbed me the wrong way. He knew only the deceased Joe. He knew all of the details of the autopsy and the crime scene and the testimony of his family, and that was it.
“Right,” I said, keeping my annoyance from showing.
“Would you let some girl poison you?”
“Poison?”
“It looked like an overdose at first. I’m putting two and two together.”
“You think she forced him to take the drugs?”
“It’s possible.”
I chewed on my lip and mulled over the entire situation. “What about the note? Why would he write that?”
Ryan sighed and stood up from the chair. He paced the length of my room in three steps before turning around and doing it again.
“Well?” I pressed.
“I’m thinking.”
“We should find The Madame, then?” If this person came to the house to find Joe, he or she might have more answers.
“Only if you want to.”
“I want to,” I said. I needed to. “Where do we start?”
He sat down on the chair and clicked on the email address. “The email is a generic one. Even if I got the IP address, the area might not be accurate.”
“So we’re at square one again?”
“How’s the game?” Dad said, poking his head into the room.
“Good,” Ryan and I said at the same time. I moved in front of the computer screen so Ryan would have enough time to bring up our fake gaming session.
“Do you want to take a break?” Dad asked. “Mom made ice cream sandwiches.”
“Sure,” I said. “Give us a minute to save it?”
“Hurry up. You don’t want them to melt.” Dad’s gaze slid to Ryan, then back to me, before he left.
Dad was always polite to his employees until he had a reason not to be. I saw the indecision in his eyes: wondering if hiring a guy around his daughter’s age was a good idea or not. I’d have to find a way to reassure him. We didn’t need another set of eyes on us.
Speaking of eyes . . . “I got it,” I said, forming the ridiculous but somewhat perfect plan in my mind.
“I’m listening.”
“We’ve been immersed in everything that happened. I say we take what we know and come back into it with a new perspective.”
“Not a bad plan.”
“I say we go back to the beginning.”
“And that would be?”
“The pool house.”
Ryan cocked his head. “You want to go back to the pool house?”
“Kat and I used to hop the fence all the time. I can get us on the property without anyone noticing.”
“What are you expecting to find?”
I raked a hand through my hair. “I don’t know. Anything. Maybe something that can make the connection between Joe and The Madame.”
“That’s a far stretch. Besides, what if we get caught?”
“We’ll be careful. We’ll go late.”
“Wouldn’t they have cleaned up the space? Taken out his things? The evidence we might need?”
“No, remember at the carnival Kat said they hadn’t gone in the pool house since his death.”
Ryan made a face. “I hope they opened a window.”
I gave him a look. “I’m sure one of the maids cleaned it, but I can guarantee nothing’s been taken out.”
“And what if you’re wrong?”
“Then you can think of the next plan. Unless you have one that’s better right now?”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. I had him. We both had the same crazy determination to see this through.
“Well?” I asked.
“Let’s do it.”
I nodded, allowing my mind to formulate a clearer plan. We had one chance to do this and it had to be soon. There might be a murderer out there, and I wanted to help take him or her down.
E
As a child, no matter where I lived, the library was a sanctuary for me. No one there bothered me and the calm, serene nature of the place was the perfect escape.
This time, I wasn’t there to relax and escape. I had work to do and, with it being the summer, there was less of a chance of many patrons visiting when the beach was around the corner.
I offered the librarian my money and she guided me to the copy machine. The original copies would be mine but I had big plans for one set of copies.
I tried not to dwell on the librarian stumbling over her words while avoiding looking at my face.
I intended to be in and out very quickly, especially because of the uncouth reaction from the librarian. Sometimes when people were uncomfortable they wanted to tell others about it and I didn’t need several people to identify me. I’d been careful each step of the way, but I could never be too careful.
I did a double-take when I saw Sylvia’s sister sitting alone on a chair by the windows. I smiled wistfully. Her legs propped up the thick book in front of her. She absently rubbed her finger along the temple tip of her glasses while her mouth moved to the words she was reading. She reminded me of myself when I found a good book to read.
She looked up as if she felt me watching. For once, I was taken aback.
She offered a friendly wave and I glanced over my shoulder to see whom she was waving at. There wasn’t anyone there.
I turned around and waved back.
She smiled and went back to reading her book.
I watched her for another minute or so. She’d delved back into the novel with absolute concentration. Her adolescent innocence was captivating, reminding me of why I came to find Sylvia to begin with. I reaffirmed my mission and headed back to my room at the Chester Bay Inn.