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“What about anyone else close to the Duval girls? Friends? Cousins?”
“Lots of people interviewed way back when. I’ve got a list and I’ve sent it along with all the case files to you—e-mail.”
“Okay.”
She said, “Here’s something else: There were only two security cameras at the theater at the time, one at the ticket booth outside and then one in the lobby. Neither one showed anything out of the ordinary, no abduction during the intermission between films—it was a doubleheader that evening.”
“But there is some footage?”
“Yeah, we’ve got a copy.”
“Let’s look it over.”
“What about other security cameras in the area?”
“Nothing. Back then there were few street cams or security cams outside, so there was nothing to go on. An Amber Alert was issued, but you know, technology wasn’t anything like it is now and the alert system hadn’t been in existence all that long, so the Duval girls fell through the cracks.
“A tip line was set up and at first all kinds of calls came in. Just like you’d expect. Everything from those that seemed legit to some of the most bizarre, but, as you know, none paid off. Eventually, sadly the case went ice-cold and if it weren’t for Margaret stoking the fires of interest every year, people would’ve forgotten all about it.”
“Until now,” he said, and she nodded.
“Until now.”
He stood and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. “Let’s go and see what Margaret Duval has to say.” His guts twisted at the thought of speaking with the grieving mother, but it had to be done.
“All right.” Delacroix snapped her iPad shut, retrieved her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and was heading out the door. A step or two behind, Reed circumvented a couple of detectives walking the opposite direction down the hall and caught up with Delacroix at the top of the stairs. As he reached her, her cell went off in her hand. She slanted a gaze at the screen, then sighed. “Crap.”
“What?”
“Wouldn’t ya know?” She started down the steps. “It’s the morgue. I asked them to keep the clothing and jewelry from the bodies and let me know when I could take a look. Examine the locket before they processed and bagged it.”
“That hasn’t been done?”
She sent him a glance over her shoulder and was jostled by a beefy uniformed cop hurrying up the stairs. “Backlog, remember? They were already behind when the hurricane hit. They rushed the autopsies and ID of the girls through and now want to clear them out. So I gotta go.” She slid him a glance as they reached the first floor. “Why don’t you go on ahead and I’ll meet up with you,” she suggested. “For all we know Margaret might not even be home.”
“She might be at the morgue already. You might run into her there.”
“Oh, God, I hope not . . . she shouldn’t see the bodies.” Delacroix’s eyebrows slammed downward over her glasses. Shaking her head, she added, “They’re just skeletons. Nothing a mother should ever view.”
He couldn’t disagree. “If I see her first, I’ll try to dissuade her.”
“Do that. Definitely. After I check out the locket, I’ll try to catch up with the father, Harvey, in California, talk to him o
n the phone. Then I’ll meet you back here. Okay?”
“Works for me,” he said as they reached the main door.
“Good. Later.”
Once outside they split up.
Reed climbed into the sweltering interior of his Jeep, slid on a pair of Ray-Bans, then started the engine. With the windows rolled down, he maneuvered through one detour, hit the Truman Parkway, melding into traffic and rolling up the windows as he remembered how Morrisette had an irritating habit of playing with the automatic windows. It had driven him crazy. Now, he’d have to get used to a new partner and all her idiosyncrasies. Delacroix? Would he be partnered with her permanently? Or would he have to get used to flying solo?
Maybe, for the time being, having some time alone was a good thing.
CHAPTER 10
With the cat curled up beside her, Nikki lay on her back in the bed and stared at the slowly turning blades of the ceiling fan. She felt awful.
