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“Nothing new around here. By the way, I’ve already asked the judge for our Jane Doe’s exhumation. Since the paperwork was ready and I was also asking to exhume the body of Vera Lockhart, I put in for both at once, hinting there might be a connection.”
“You want to know how Ms. Lockhart died?”
“I do. A woman hiding a body upstairs in such an unorthodox way raises all sorts of red flags to me.”
“Did the judge sign off?”
“Yup. No dragging his feet over these two. I’ve got everything lined up for nine o’clock tomorrow morning at the cemetery—Jane Doe first, then Lockhart right after. Isn’t that why you’re here?”
“It’s good news. But that’s not why I stopped by. I discovered the identity of Zephyr. It turns out Wally’s known him his entire life. Zephyr is Lee Willis. Which begs the question, why didn’t you recognize the name? Because Murphy didn’t either. How is that possible?”
Brent shifted his stance. “Wait a minute. You’re saying Zeph Willis is Zephyr?”
“Duh. Why didn’t you recognize the name?”
“Because he’s known around town as Zeph Willis, not Zephyr. I never made the connection. Everyone knows Willis as Zeph.” Brent narrowed his gaze. “What? You thought I was maybe trying to hold back information? Or worse, protecting a killer? Why the hell would I do that?”
Lucien held up his hands. “I’m not suggesting anything. It’s curious, an oddity that both you and Murphy failed to ID this guy as Zephyr. How long would it have taken before we connected the dots if Wally hadn't decided to come clean? That’s all I’m saying. How many people in town have a weird handle like Zephyr?”
“I see your point. It never occurred to me Willis could be the guy. For one thing, Zeph lives practically off the grid since his wife died. Since moving into his dad’s old place, he’s even worse than he was. I expect to get a call any day that he’s dead, and nobody missed him for months.”
“Thanks for that heads up. Brogan and I plan to talk to him after visits with Crossland and Plunkett. That way, we get a feel for what these people were like back in 1978.”
“Good. Maybe you’ll have a breakthrough with Willis.” Brent noticed Lucien’s demeanor. “What else is bothering you?”
“Wally. And how he lied straight to my face initially about knowing Zephyr. He claimed it was because it sounded like maybe Zephyr was to blame for Gidget Jane Doe’s death.”
“Isn’t that what you think?”
“It’s a theory, a starting point. But Wally went all protective. I don’t think you should worry too much about Zephyr dying and not being missed. Wally would certainly miss him. A lot. Wally admitted that this guy is like family. At some point in his life, this Zephyr became Wally’s mentor.”
“Really? See? I didn’t realize that. Keep me posted on how your interaction with Willis goes. What else have you learned about Vera Lockhart? Other than she didn’t exist before 1970?”
“The birth date she gave Kinsey is phony. I’m sure everything else will turn out to be fake, too. But that’s a given. The day she decided to become Vera Lockhart, she was running from something else. Did she have the body with her then? Or did something bad happen on her way to Pelican Pointe? How long before the lab has anything on this dead guy?”
“Could be weeks, could be months. The lab sent over photos of the stab wounds and the nicks to the bones. Want to have a look?”
“Sure.” Lucien studied a few photographs but shook his head in awe. “These bones are so old I can’t tell what those marks are.”
“Good thing you’re not the medical examiner.”
Lucien chuckled. “Isn’t it? I’d never make it in the medical field. Is it okay if I copy one of these photos?”
“I guess. Are you hoping to solve this case, too?”
“You’re the one who claimed they were connected.”
“Might be connected,” Brent clarified. “It’s true that I used Lockhart’s victim and her obsession with Gidget to link the two. The judge thought it looked good on paper. But that doesn’t mean squat unless I can prove it.”
“Which is where we come in,” Lucien assessed, getting to his feet. “Can you think of anyone else we should put on the list to talk to from 1978?”
Brent reached into his desk drawer and removed a file folder. “Based on birth dates, Eastlyn compiled a list of teenagers the right age around 1978. Some still live here. Some don’t. You’ll notice Zeph Willis is one name that isn’t on there. He was twenty-two in 1978, a little out of our age window if the killer was a teenager at the time. Doesn’t mean Willis isn’t our guy, though. It simply means that Eastlyn’s list isn’t a definitive way to catch the killer.”
Lucien skimmed the two-page document. “A handy who’s who guide nonetheless. Our killer might not be on here, but a witness might. Thanks.”
“Thank her on the way out. I’ve got my own mystery to solve.”
Two doors fromVera’s place, Tazzie’s two-bedroom bungalow was a sky-blue doll house with white shutters. Brogan walked up to the picket fence that needed painting bearing gifts. If the cappuccino and pie didn’t do the trick, she hoped the dozen daffodil bulbs and seed packets she’d found at The Plant Habitat would put Tazzie in a talkative mood.
