Sweet, kind Faith Voss didn’t seem capable of murder, and she didn’t appear to have the strength to dig up a grave. Looks were often deceiving. Except, as the director of admissions, she’d be privy to the sports complex plans and know that the structure would be nowhere near the grave. So if she had killed someone and buried the body on campus, she wouldn’t have moved it.
Max rubbed her temples. Sometimes her thoughts turned macabre, as she pictured petite Faith Voss digging up a grave, then shooting Jason Hoffman in cold blood.
But there was no question that it was suspicious that part of a charm bracelet was found in the grave, and Faith Voss wore a similar charm bracelet. Maybe Faith would recognize the charm. Or maybe she’d lost it. Or given it to someone … someone who ended up dead and buried on the edge of campus?
It could mean absolutely nothing, or it could be a lead. Max had followed far weaker clues and ended up with valuable information. It was worth checking out.
She was about to leave to track down Faith Voss when her cell phone rang. It was David.
“We just landed,” he said. “Catch me up.”
She glanced at her watch. It was after six in the evening. “Don’t you have a baseball game to get to?”
“It doesn’t start for ninety minutes. Tell me what’s going on, or I’ll be in your room in less than an hour.”
“There’s no need for drastic measures,” she said. She filled him in on the basics, and then said, “Until the victim from the grave is identified, we’re spinning our wheels.”
“How are you doing?”
“I’m fine.”
David sighed loud enough that Max could hear. “Max, how are you doing with the idea that William could be Lindy’s killer?”
“David, I believed that Kevin was innocent, and I was right. I can’t envision any scenario where William could have killed Lindy.” She sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. “If I’m wrong, I’ll deal with it.”
David said, “I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon before two.”
“I already have a room reserved for you.”
“How was jail?”
David tried to sound light, but he was the only one who knew what she’d been through in Mexico.
“Best I’ve been in. By the way, I know you talked to Santini. I assume because you didn’t change your flight that you were comfortable with his credentials.”
“I checked him out. He’s fine.”
Max laughed heartily. In fact, she hadn’t laughed enough this week and David was the one constant in her life; she knew he’d have her back and remind her that sometimes, she could count on people. Sometimes, they didn’t fail or disappoint you.
“That he is,” she said. “David, enjoy the baseball game. I wish I could be there.”
“It’s sold out, but I’m sure you could get tickets if you lifted your little finger.”
“I’m sure I could. I have some research to do.”
“I know that tone.”
“I have this niggling feeling that I’m missing something.” She described the bracelet. “But Faith is this small woman, sweet, sincere. Now, her sister was a wild child—”
Carrie.
“Max?”
“Her sister.… I didn’t even think about it, but she moved to Europe thirteen years ago.”
“The same time Lindy was murdered?”
Why would Carrie kill Lindy and another girl? Why bury one body and not the other? Except Carrie definitely had a wild streak and a temper. She was taller and stronger than her sister.
Why would she return to dig up the grave if she was eight thousand miles away overseas? If the victim could be connected to her, the authorities would have to track her down.
“How can I find out the last place someone used their passport?” she asked.
“I think I missed part of the conversation.”
“I had it in my head,” she said.
“That’s tricky. You need someone in the state department to find out if someone even has a passport issued—it’s not public information. But to find out where it was used? The information is out there, but again, it’s confidential. Marco could get it, but even an FBI agent would have to justify needing the information.”
Max typed rapidly on her computer. Carrie Voss … there weren’t hundreds, but too many to sort through in just a few minutes. She narrowed the search a variety of ways, but no one popped up that matched Carrie’s description. She searched for Faith and instantly found her social media pages. Flipping through them, she couldn’t find Carrie listed as a friend, follower, fan, anything.
Were they that estranged?
Maybe Faith had killed her sister. Lost a charm in the process? But the bracelet found in the grave had been broken. Perhaps, Faith had help.
But why? They hadn’t been a wealthy family, there was no trust fund or inheritance. But with family, nearly anything could be a motive.
“Max, just tell me if you need me.”
“David, I need you tomorrow. I’ve got this covered.” She checked another database. “Seriously. Like you said, Santini’s a good guy and I’m in my room and all is well.”
He grunted.
“Give my love to Emma.” She hung up.
It seemed that Carrie Voss had disappeared from the face of the earth.
Or had been buried four feet under.
Max grabbed her purse and left.
*
Faith Voss lived in a quaint, older English Tudor on a quiet street off Whipple Avenue in nearby Redwood City.
Max was thrilled that she was home.
“Maxine Revere?” Faith said in surprise when she opened the door. “I—well. Come in.”
Although it was just seven in the evening, Faith was already in her pajamas and had a bowl of popcorn and a Diet Coke situated in front of the television. Books—mostly romances with a few thrillers and classics intermixed—bulged from the bookshelves to such a degree that they spread over to the end tables. Faith might have more books than Max—and that was saying something.
She looked self-conscious, and Max wanted to put her at ease. “Hey, if I’d known it was a pajama party I would have brought mine.”
“This is a surprise,” Faith said. “A good surprise,” she added quickly. “I just didn’t expect to see you here.” She glanced around the house and frowned.
Max glanced down at her wrist when she heard the clink. She still wore the charm bracelet.