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A vise gripped her heart. “You’re right, and I meant what I said about people needing to want help in order for it to work. I wish I’d had someone to offer me support. There are plenty of rehab centers around for addicts, and child protective services when things get really bad, but I just needed support. A place to go and escape the craziness of my life or people to help navigate the messed-up path I’ve walked my entire life.”
Safe Haven Women’s Shelter was there for people who needed a place to land while they got back on their feet. Could a shelter like that offer even more to a community? A place for people to turn to when abuse and the need for a roof or food weren’t the only problems?
“You’re an amazing person, and strong. It’s not fair that people are born into crappy situations and have to fight just to survive. Something like what you described should exist, a support system for family of addicts. It’s a darn good idea, and one I’m surprised we don’t offer in our community. Lord knows there’s a strong need for it.” Owen ran a hand through his hair and twisted his lips. “But we all have to make the tough choices sometimes to come through the hard times. Sounds like Eddy had the support he needed—he just didn’t accept it.”
Marie sighed and picked up another fry. “But we all make dumb choices when we’re younger. Not all of us come in to contact with a scumbag like Bill who exposes our weaknesses and strikes when we’re vulnerable.”
“What about you? You’ve known Bill since you were kids. How did you manage to not get caught up in his drama?” Owen pulled back his hand and grabbed his glass of soda, taking a sip before setting the drink back on the table.
Marie lifted a shoulder and sighed. Her past with Bill was so darn complicated. “Like I said before, he wasn’t so bad when we were kids. He was tough, had to be the way we grew up, but he didn’t get into trouble until high school when his dad left. When I found out my mom helped hook him up with a dealer, I broke up with him. I couldn’t handle one more user in my life. But he was always around, and I checked in on his mom a lot after she got sick. I think Bill always thought that meant I wanted to be with him still, but I just cared for her and wanted to make sure she was all right. Her death was a turning point. He cracked, and I stayed as far away from him as possible. Unfortunately, it wasn’t far enough.”
Owen’s phone pinged, and he shot her an apologetic look. “I need to check this. Could be important.” Shifting to gain access to his front pocket, he retrieved the phone and studied the screen.
Dread pooled in her stomach, and she dropped the uneaten food in her hand. “What is it?”
Owen’s lips moved silently as he read whatever was on his phone. “My dad sent an email. He and Tommy went through Erica’s work computer and passed along some files. Said it looks like something fishy is definitely happening at the school.”
Marie sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. Leave it to Bill to prey on teenagers for profit, but it still didn’t explain who he had connections with in Water’s Edge. She opened her eyes and focused on Owen. “Did they find anything about Damon?”
“Doesn’t say. I need to pull up these files on a bigger computer to get more in-depth information, and then I need to speak to Principal Teller. If something is going on at the school, she needs to know.”
Marie glanced at the round clock on the wall. School was almost over for the day. How had the hours slipped by so quickly? “Another trip to the school?”
Owen shook his head. “No. I want to glance through some of this before we visit Ms. Teller. We’ll swing by the sheriff’s department then stop by her house. Sometimes people give more information when they’re not expecting you.”
A shiver raced down her back that had nothing to do with the vent blowing cold air on her. Maybe Ms. Teller knew more than she realized, or maybe she was an expert about keeping her secrets hidden.
17
Abright teal door with a brass knocker stood in stark contrast to the white colonial house with black shutters in the historic part of town. Owen had always loved walking along the red brick road as a child, following behind Katherine who pretended the path would take her to a grand wizard instead of across the street to the towpath.
He didn’t have time to dwell on silly games and fantasies now as he stood outside of Ms. Teller’s home, the rain returning. He only had time for facts and answers. Especially with Marie and Nora waiting in the car.
Swinging the knocker against the door, his nerves tingled, a sign he was close to figuring out this nightmare. But certain pieces were missing—pieces Erica Zyler took to her grave. The files he’d scanned were full of random notes and numbers that meant nothing.
She’d also noted the amount of drug related deaths in the area, an alarming number coming from teenagers over the last four weeks. But one thing was certain, Erica had focused her investigation on Water’s Edge’s High School and its faculty, something that made the burger in Owen’s stomach turn to lead.
Owen stilled his muscles and listened for signs of activity inside the house. A garage door rattled open. He jumped from the front stoop and followed the sound to the attached garage. The garage door slid open, exposing unorganized clutter. That’d explain why the car sat in the driveway and not tucked inside where Ms. Teller would be protected from the constant rainfall.
A woman stepped out of the house, her back to him as she flipped on the light in the garage.
“Ms. Teller?” Owen asked.
The woman whirled around with a hand pressed to her chest. Patricia Teller stood with wide eyes, her brown hair pulled back in a stubby pony tail. “Oh, my goodness. You startled me. Is that you, Deputy Wells?”
He stayed on the edge of the driveway, not wanting to intrude on her personal space without an invitation. “Yes, sorry to scare you. I just received some more information on my case, and I wanted to run some things past you. I hope that’s okay.”
“Yes, please come in. I was just about to put together some pots.” She tipped her head toward a long wooden bench on the far side of the space. Pots of multiple shapes and colors nestled on the floor, and gardening tools and flats of colorful flowers took up the space on the bench. “It’s been too wet to do much in my garden outside. I thought it’d be nice to get my hands a little dirty inside instead.”
He wandered inside and studied the bright petals. “The flowers are nice.”
Ms. Teller smiled and pulled on a pair of dirty gardening gloves. “Thank you, but I’m sure you’re not interested in my petunias. What brings you by?”
Owen bounced his gaze around the mess of scattered tubs and holiday decorations and tried not to cringe. “I obtained some information regarding overdoses in the area of high school-aged kids. Is this an issue you’ve been made aware of?”
Ms. Teller nodded, a deep frown on her face. “Yes, of course. We’ve been lucky. I’m not naïve. I’m sure some of the students dabble in those types of activities, but we haven’t experienced any overdoses. Some of the principals from local schools have even reached out and wanted to know our secret.”
He tilted his head and studied the concerned ripples across her forehead. “What did you tell them?”
