Find Me (30 page)

Tuesday, March
3, 10:55 A.M.

Sarah stood, arms crossed, on the periphery of the crowd filing into the Main Street Methodist church for Alicia Appleton's memorial service. Sarah had observed most of the people on her watch-list drift inside.

Clouds threatening snow plotted overhead.

More snow was the last thing they needed.

Trucks, cars, and SUVs lined the parking area, each one dirty from the mixture of snow, ice, sand, and the occasional dash of salt added as necessary, that littered every street and driveway. Welcome to life in Maine.

Sarah had been damned disappointed that Chief Willard hadn't planned a strategy briefing that morning, at least not one she was invited to attend.

If the investigation had discovered additional evidence or learned new particulars on persons of interest since the last briefing no one was talking.

Memorial services were something Sarah didn't typically attend. But she was here for more than paying her respects to the deceased. She was here to analyze the others paying their respects. Not exactly a laudable reason to show, but necessary nonetheless.

She was beginning to think she should have brought two little black dresses. But since she only owned one, it would have to do.

As would the less than sophisticated Converses that were the mainstay of her everyday wardrobe.

Her editor, Tae, had called demanding an update she couldn't really give him.

Primarily because she couldn't explain why she was still here. There was no logical reason. The story she'd come here to follow was basically nonexistent at this point. Sure, there were myths and legends and tales all over this rocky coast. And no doubt many believed those things were as real as any angel or demon or biblical fable. But the truth was out in the open now. Valerie Gerard and Alicia Appleton had been murdered by someone as human as they were. Likely someone they had known, possibly well, or all their lives.

End of story.

Except something wasn't right.

Her instincts were screaming at Sarah to stay. To find the truth. After all, that was the real story.

Maybe it wasn't cloaked in magic or ghosts, but it was thoroughly shrouded in secrets.

Secrets being kept by the most heinous of villains.

Intimates.

People known and maybe loved by the victims.

The mystery here was far more involved than the perp the police were looking for, and certainly more involved than Lex expected. She couldn't label why yet… couldn't even put it into words. But she knew it was wrong.

Just wrong. That was all she knew so far.

For the first time in ten years Sarah felt she was a part of something bigger; that her task was more than demystifying bedtime stories.

Conner spotted her across the parking lot and started in her direction. She'd managed to avoid him this morning… until now.

After a futile search for Matilda and several attempts to meet with Reverend Mahaney or his niece, and Barton Harvey, she and Conner had parted ways late last evening.

Spending another night with him would have been an even bigger mistake than she'd already made. She was getting too close… allowing him too close.

Sarah'd turned off her cell phone and spent the night reviewing her notes and what few evidentiary details she'd begged, borrowed, and stolen. Then she'd tried to sleep. Dreams had kept her from achieving that ever-elusive goal. Only these dreams had been different… they had involved
him
.

"I tried to catch you at the inn." She'd known he would. So she'd left early and driven around. Sarah had found herself at the chapel, or at least as close to it as the police perimeter would allow. "I had things…"

He nodded. "My family's over there." He motioned to his I mother's minivan where his father, stationed in his wheel-chair, was being hydraulically lowered to the ground. His brother who'd come home from the University of Massachusetts for the memorial service, hovered nearby. "I thought maybe you might like to sit with us. You haven't met my brother Jamison yet."

"Sure." Sarah didn't exactly have an excuse to say no. Conner looked good in black. Straight-cut suit, crisp white shirt, narrow black tie. Even had the leather wingtips to match. No flannel or boots today. That she noted every little detail was not a good sign.

His gaze traveled the length of her and back. "It's the only dress I brought," she explained for no good reason. Why should she care if he noticed she'd worn the same thing three times already? Not to mention her coat was not exactly suitable for wearing to church.

"You could wear it every day and the facts wouldn't change."

His hand settled at her lower back as he ushered her toward his family.

Had she just been insulted?

"What facts?"

He smiled. "The facts of how great you look in that dress."

Irrationally annoyed, she pointed out, "That's one fact, Conner."

He leaned closer as they reached the minivan. "The others are private."

"Sarah." Before she could analyze that comment, Polly Conner rushed up and gave her a hug. "You have to sit with me." With a covert glance at her mom, she added in a whisper, "I'll tell you about everybody."

Ellen and Peter Conner greeted her as if they hadn't seen her in ages and were thrilled to have her join them. Conner introduced her to his brother who looked like a younger, carbon copy of him.

It felt… awkward… too personal.

Conner pushed the wheelchair, his mother walked on one side while his brother tagged along on the other. Polly hung on to Sarah's arm.

The whole situation was somehow uncomfortable.

Sarah was a stranger.

Apparently they hadn't noticed.

"Let's find a seat," Polly urged as the rest of her family headed for the handicapped-accessible entrance.

Having no ready way to disengage herself, Sarah smiled at the girl and went along.

They followed Marta Hanover and her husband up the steps.

Marta glanced at Sarah but quickly looked away.

See? Sarah was not one of them. Why hadn't the Conners noticed?

If that one furtive glance wasn't proof enough, the blatant glares she garnered inside the sanctuary confirmed it.

"Here." Polly tugged her to the wide aisle designed for those physically challenged. She settled on the very end of the pew next to the main aisle and patted the spot beside her.

Conner and his mother entered the row from the other side. When his mother was settled alongside his father, he took the seat next to Sarah.

That his arm went automatically behind her set off another of those gut-level alarms.

Before she could reflect on the maneuver, much less the motive, Polly whispered in her ear. "You see the girl hanging all over Brady?"

Jerald Pope's daughter.

"That's Jerri Lynn. She's been after Brady forever. She and Alicia hated each other. 'Course I can't say much since I had a little crush on Brady, but I got over that and hardly anyone knew."

Jerri Lynn wasn't alone in her efforts to console Brady. Several others, male and female, including Tamara Gilbert, sat around him. But Tamara's presence was merely on the fringes. It was obvious that she was latched onto Jerri Lynn and that alone was her ticket to the party.

"Oh, my God," Polly murmured, still leaning against Sarah's shoulder. "Reverend Mahaney is here without his wife. And he's not sitting with his niece." She bent around to look Sarah in the eyes. "That's weird. They always do everything together." She peeked in the reverend's direction then turned back to Sarah. "His niece is like the biggest nerd in school. Nobody likes her except Jerri Lynn. That's her all over Jerri Lynn," Polly added as an aside, not realizing that Sarah already knew. "Tamara always tells her uncle everything, especially about the youth group members. That's another reason nobody likes her."

Sarah nodded, but her real attention was on Melody Harvey who sat with her parents. Seemed strange that she didn't sit with the other kids her age as her brother did. Maybe she, too, was considered a nerd like Tamara.
Invisible
, that's what Melody had said.

It appeared every police officer on the Youngstown force was in attendance. Except maybe the one guarding the crime scene. The Popes sat together near the back on the other side of the sanctuary.

As if her thought had summoned him, Jerald gave Sarah one of those vague nods of acknowledgment. Sarah returned the gesture. His wife looked regal. She was the only one in the room wearing a hat and dark glasses.

Matilda had been right. Pope was a little freaky. But that didn't make him a killer any more than his generous donations to the victims' families did. Matilda was just a kid. Admittedly, one with an uncanny sense of those around her, but a kid nonetheless. Sarah had to stop allowing her empathy for the kid to filter her assessments.

Sarah shifted her attention from the standing-room-only crowd to the front where a long table had been arranged in honor of Alicia. Her senior portrait served as the centerpiece. More photos, trophies, crowns, and the memorabilia that represented her too short life spanned the width of the altar.

When the minister stepped up to the podium, the murmur of soft voices and the whisper of fabric in the crowd settling came to an abrupt stop.

The service began with the minister's thoughts on the deceased. Close friends and family approached the altar, one by one, and spoke about the young woman who would be so sorely missed. Rachel Appleton sat stoically through every word of every recitation.

Sarah watched her, trying to remember how she'd felt at her father's memorial service… or even at her mother's. She'd felt numb, uncaring. In a way, relieved.

But not Rachel Appleton. She sat there wearing a brave face and dying inside.

With the discovery of her daughter's body, Rachel Apple-ton's life had ended. It didn't matter that she had two sons. Her daughter had been her life.

Sarah ached for her, sensed with every fiber of her being that this tragedy could have been prevented… somehow. This woman, a mother who loved so much, gave so much, had lost a child. Sarah had not known a mother like that… maybe she ached in part for what she'd never had… for what Rachel Appleton would miss.

When the service ended, a few stayed behind to talk, the rest filtered out. There would be refreshments and grief counseling available at the high school auditorium.

It wasn't until Sarah stood outside again that she noticed Lex August. He must have been with the crowd at the back of the sanctuary.

She could have cared less if she'd ever seen him again in this lifetime, except she wanted an update. She didn't care where it came from as long as it was accurate.

"How did your interviews go?" She walked right into his personal space, toe-to-toe.

There had been a time she would have admired how he looked in a suit, as she had Conner. But not anymore. Because she knew all too well that behind that handsome face and well-maintained physique beat the meager heart of a complete prick.

He adopted that fake smile that seemed to work on everyone else. "Well enough for preliminary groundwork."

Code for: I didn't get shit.