AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No.” She shook her head. “Not even squatters, but they mentioned they were going to put up some kind of security system and new signs. They seemed pissed about the whole thing, more worried about the notoriety of bodies being found there and what it would do to their property values. They seemed to care more about money than they were concerned that those kids were buried there.” She frowned. “My take: coldhearted pricks. But I didn’t put that in the file.”
“Good.” He nodded.
“Then I called Ashley McDonnell, now Ashley Jefferson, Owen Duval’s alibi. She’s married now, got a couple of kids and lives out on Tybee.” Delacroix scrolled down on her phone, then looked at him and shook her head. “Piece of work. She was more concerned with getting her power on after the storm and having her yard cleaned up than she was about the bodies.”
“Old news?”
“I guess. She was actually irritated that I was bothering her. Worried aloud about not being connected to the Internet even though her husband is some kind of computer wiz. She was late posting to her blog.” Her eyebrows elevated. “As I said, ‘piece of work.’ ”
He leaned back in his chair. “Does she still keep in contact with Owen?”
“Nope, acted as if he was ‘just a friend’ in high school. I got the impression that she thought she was doing him a favor hanging out with him.”
“You buy that?”
“Nuh-uh, that woman is too self-centered to have taken on a charity case. People don’t get meaner after high school, you know? They usually grow up, become kinder, not the other way around.”
“She was Owen’s alibi.”
“Still is. Said they just hung out at her folks’ place as the parents were away for the weekend.”
“Doing what?”
“Watching TV.” Her eyes held his. “I call ‘bullshit’ on it, but she wouldn’t budge. I think we might need to talk to her in person, get a bead on her.”
“Everything she said matches what Owen Duval said in his statement.”
“Hmmm.” Her eyebrows knitted. “No one else seemed to think they were a couple. Check out the old statements.”
“I know. Maybe someone will change their tune.”
She hopped off the corner of the desk and walked to the window, staring through the glass. “I just get the feeling that someone’s lying. No . . . that’s not right. I get the feeling that a lot of people are lying and I’m not sure why. What did Margaret Duval say?”
“A lot. She’s pretty broken up of course. Had held on to the belief that her daughters were alive.?
?
“I guess there’s always hope,” she said, biting her lip thoughtfully.
“Apparently.” Reed explained about his meeting at the parsonage and ended with, “She told me to bring her youngest daughter back alive.”
Delacroix took the visitor’s chair. “Did she? And how did you respond?”
“I didn’t.”
“Because you think it’s impossible?”
“No, because I don’t like to make promises I can’t keep. What did you find out about the locket?” he asked, and noted that she was taller than his previous partner. Delacroix sat up taller and straighter in the chair than Morrisette had.
“Nothing. Empty.” She raised a shoulder. “It was worth a shot, but no, it wasn’t like some kind of Nancy Drew moment when the final and dangerous clue to the mystery is revealed within the clasp of a small piece of jewelry. So I just put it back with everything else.”
“Damn. That would’ve made things so much easier.”
She actually smiled, showing off a bit of white teeth. “I know, right? Well, here’s something. I did get hold of Owen Duval. He wasn’t all that talkative, insisted upon lawyering up as if he expected to be arrested or something.”
“Really?”
“He claimed that he was railroaded when the girls disappeared, that the cops didn’t look any further than him.”
