“Nah. He was tall and slim. Blond. Very tanned.” He grinned ruefully. “But they all are, right?” He glanced at his watch. “We should get going.”
“One more thing. The week Adrienne died, she was trying desperately to tell Veronica something that she didn’t want to tell her over the phone. But they never had a chance for a face-to-face meeting. She died before they could talk. Do you have any idea what that was about?”
He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Believe me. Veronica and I have gone over this a million times over the years, going over the possibilities, and nothing sticks. Which makes it even more devastating for Veronica that she didn’t go see Adrienne. I don’t think we’ll ever know. Which is why it’s time to move on. To start a new life and leave this . . . unknowing behind us. So please. Help us sell our house and find a new one as soon as possible.” His next words caught in his throat. “I don’t know how much longer this can go on.”
“I get it,” I said. “And I will find you a new house, one that you’ll all love. I promise,” I said, sliding back my chair.
Michael did the same, then stood. “I’ll be sure and let you know if I think of anything.”
He held out my chair, then placed his hand on my back as he escorted me out of the bakery, my skin burning beneath his palm as if crawling with dozens of fire ants.
* * *
? ? ?
Veronica drove us to her house on Queen Street following our meeting with Michael. I sent him back to work with a folder full of listings to go through (everything color coded and listed in order of the number of boxes checked for his wants). I gave Veronica a matching folder, but the order was different, as apparently her wants and needs didn’t match Michael’s. I was more than a little relieved that this anticipated additional delay because of their disparate requirements would not be of my own making.
I could hear the sawing and banging through the closed windows of the car as Veronica pulled onto the small parking pad in front of her house. As she parked, we both turned at the sound of a car pulling up behind us. I recognized Detective Riley as he exited the car, carrying what looked like Adrienne’s yearbook, calling out a greeting that was quickly muted by the sound of a chain saw. Veronica motioned for him to follow us inside, where we sought refuge in the library again.
Sitting down next to me on the sofa, Thomas placed the yearbook on the coffee table. “Sorry to drop by unannounced, Veronica, but you’re a hard person to reach. I think I’ve left about a dozen voice mails on your phone, and I’ve left a few messages on your landline answering machine.”
“Yes, sorry. We usually delete the messages without listening to them since they’re mostly sales calls, and I seem to have misplaced my cell phone. I don’t want to replace it because I’m sure it will turn up at some point—I lose it about a dozen times a day just in my house!” She forced a little laugh. “I must have turned it off when at a client’s house and the Find My Phone app doesn’t seem to be working.”
“No worries,” Thomas said. “I actually dropped by Melanie’s office first and the receptionist—the one with the dragonfly earrings—told me that Melanie had just left with you. She said you were headed here.” He frowned. “She, uh— Jolly, is it?”
I nodded.
“Yes, Jolly. She’s an interesting character, isn’t she? She also told me that I had a white aura surrounding me and that she wanted to give me a crystal for protection.” He raised his eyebrows. “She also said that a young girl—not a child, but more like a tween—was following me. Along with her dog.”
“Really?” I said, a familiar chill tiptoeing down my spine. “Either her online classes on how to be a psychic are going better than I thought, or she’s a very good guesser. We’ve experienced those same apparitions at the house. Although I don’t have a clue about auras or crystals. You’re on your own with that.”
“Thanks.” He frowned again. “I wasn’t really giving much weight to what she was saying, but then Jolly said something else that was a little more concerning.”
“And what was that?”
“That the apparition said that the girl was in danger. That she needed my help.”
“The girl?” I repeated.
Thomas nodded. “At first I thought the apparition was talking about herself. But that doesn’t make sense, does it? Wouldn’t she refer to herself by name or at least a personal pronoun like ‘me’ or ‘I’? Which got me thinking that it was another girl.”
Veronica and I shared a glance. “Like Nola or her friends?” I suggested. “Unless Adrienne had a dog . . .”
Veronica shook her head. “Never. And she wasn’t a young girl when she died.”
“Yes, well, interviewing apparitions is Melanie’s area of expertise,” Thomas said. “It could mean absolutely nothing—considering the source. I just thought I’d mention it.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his notepad and pencil. “So, I have some information about that fingerprint on the Discman. Although I’m disappointed it wasn’t as informative as I’d hoped.”
Afraid that I’d be forced to drag out every morsel of information like I had to do with Yvonne, I said, “Just tell us everything. Don’t hold back.”
I looked at Veronica, who nodded. “I can handle it.”
Thomas referred to his notes. I pushed back a twinge of jealousy when he didn’t whip out a pair of reading glasses.
“There was only one clear print that was lifted—a thumbprint. After putting it through the AFIS database, we were able to positively identify it as belonging to a Lauren Dempsey, a senior from Sarasota, Florida, at the college at the time of Adrienne’s death. She was also on the sailing team. We have her prints in the system because she had a couple of DUIs while in college and a misdemeanor theft—stole a handful of lipstick tubes from Tellis Pharmacy on a dare, but Lauren was the only one charged. Does that name ring any bells?”