CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The sun was thin and pale on the courthouse steps the next morning as the crowd of reporters gathered before it, cameras at the ready. The dramatic capture of Willie Murphy by the Balboa County Sheriff’s Department had made the early morning news, and Lamb had called a 9:00 a.m. press conference to make it all official. A low buzz rippled over the crowd as well-coiffed newscasters murmured to their viewers that in just minutes, they’d have exclusive live coverage involving the missing Neptune spring breakers.
Veronica was facing the podium, Keith on one side of her and Mac on the other. She would have been happy to watch the coverage from home, but Petra Landros had called her a little over an hour earlier asking her to be there. She hadn’t been able to sleep; her nerves had been too ragged. But she’d showered and pinned her hair in a sleek, professional bun. Somewhat passive-aggressively, she wore a scoop-neck top under her blazer, making the long red line across her neck as obvious as she could. Go on and let someone ask me about it, she thought. I’ll let them know who did this in no uncertain terms.
She looked out of the corner of her eye at Keith. He stood with both hands propped on the head of his cane, his expression stony. That morning he’d been silent, his face drawn as he listened to her describe the events of the night before. Then he’d hugged her close, seemingly unable to speak. She’d seen his eyes dart to the revolver in the wooden box, but Keith refrained from lecturing her. By the time she’d come out of her room, groomed and ready to go to the courthouse, he’d been in a suit and tie, waiting by the door. And he must have called Mac, because she met them there, bleary-eyed but anxious, with three coffees in to-go cups.
Veronica was grateful. Standing in front of all these people alone, waiting to hear Lamb act as though the case were solved while ignoring the most important piece—the violent cartel cousins—might have put her over the edge.
She glanced around the crowd. The Dewalts stood a few yards away, Mike’s arms wrapped around Ella’s shoulders from behind. Crane looked strained, edgy, his eyes wide and panicked. Tears rolled down Margie’s cheeks. Veronica glanced around to look for her mother and found her, near the back of the crowd, with Hunter gathered in her arms, her face buried in his neck. Next to her, Tanner stood and stared blankly around like a man who didn’t know where he was. She wondered if Petra had asked them to come too, or if they were as desperate for information as the reporters.
“Ms. Mars?”
She turned around, startled, to see Petra Landros right in front of her. Her thick dark hair was pinned back in a somber twist, and her Armani suit was an understated charcoal gray tailored to hug her curves.
“You must be proud,” Petra said, shaking Veronica’s hand. “You caught the bad guy.” She turned to face Keith. “And you must be the notorious Mr. Mars. I’m so pleased to meet you.”
Keith’s eyebrows shot up. “Notorious?”
“Your tenure as sheriff wasn’t the most probusiness we’ve ever had, you know. But your name came up again and again as the Chamber talked about whom we should hire to find Hayley. Everyone says you’re the best.” The hint of a smile tugged her lips upward. “In any case, your daughter’s certainly upheld your firm’s reputation.” She turned back to Veronica. “Now, shall I wire you payment, or would you like to come to my office for a check right now?”
Veronica frowned. “Usually I don’t get paid until the case is closed, Ms. Landros. We still haven’t found those girls.”
Petra’s smile faded quickly. She adopted a concerned, sincere expression.
“Of course,” she said. “If we can recover the girls, we’d love to do that for the families.”
Veronica’s jaw tightened involuntarily. It wasn’t hard to read the writing on the wall. As far as the Chamber of Commerce was concerned, the case was resolved. Willie Murphy was a perfect suspect, whether he’d done anything to the missing girls or not.
The semblance of law and order is just as good as the real thing, right? As long as it keeps the tourist dollars flowing, who cares if we’ve got the right guy?
The crowd suddenly went still as Lamb made his way to the podium. Cameras shuffled around, microphones bristling forward. Veronica straightened up a little. Lamb’s khaki uniform was perfectly pressed, each button gleaming in the sun. He gave a dramatic pause as he stared arrogantly around the gathered crowd, then looked down at his notes.
“Early this morning, at just after twelve a.m., we arrested a suspect in the disappearances of Hayley Dewalt and Aurora Scott. William Murphy, age twenty-four, was seen with both girls prior to their disappearances. I can’t discuss the evidence in an ongoing case, but …”
The reporters broke into a clamor. Next to her, her father stood with his knuckles white on the handle of his cane. Mac gave a contemptuous little grimace, shifting her weight. At the podium Lamb lifted his hands with a benevolent, patronizing smile. “One at a time, please. One at a time.”
“What are you charging him with?” shouted a bespectacled man with wisps of hair across his scalp. “Do you know what happened to Hayley and Aurora?”
“Has Murphy confessed?” asked a dark-haired woman in a violet-flowered suit. “Or do you have some physical evidence linking him to the crime?”
“Where are the girls?” Veronica couldn’t tell where the voice came from, but the question was echoed a few more times around the courtyard.
“Where are Hayley and Aurora?”
“Are you going to be able to bring them home?”
Lamb cleared his throat. “At this time, we are moving ahead with a murder investigation.”
A spike of sound went up from the crowd. A few gasps, a ragged sob. Veronica exchanged a glance with Keith. Had Murphy copped to something, or was Lamb going for maximum effect?
“Again, I’m not at liberty to discuss the specifics of the case at this time, because we are still talking with the DA about how to move ahead. But the important thing is that we’ve got this guy off the street, and Neptune is safe again.”
“Sheriff Lamb, some people are saying that Murphy is involved with a larger criminal organization. Can you speak to these rumors?”
So they weren’t completely stupid. Veronica wasn’t surprised that the question had come from Martina Vasquez, a reporter for San Diego’s local news station. Lamb’s eyes darted toward her, his mouth gaping for just a moment before he collected himself.
“Well, Martina, I can’t respond to rampant speculation, and frankly, I think it’s irresponsible for the media to report hearsay as fact.” He leaned one arm on the lectern, smiling at Martina as if she’d just made some cute and childish mistake.
Mac made a strangled noise in the back of her throat.
“Hard to believe he’s single, isn’t it?” Veronica whispered. But she couldn’t hide her grin. If anyone was going to dig a little deeper, it would be Martina Vasquez, who seemed to like the Sheriff’s Department about as much as Veronica did. Maybe she could even send Martina an anonymous tip or two about the Gutiérrez boys. A little media attention might help Lamb take an interest in the cartel’s laundering operation.
“Do you think Murphy will lead you to the girls’ bodies?” someone asked from the crowd.
Lamb fidgeted with the note cards he’d prepared. “So far he’s not offering any information. But I have faith we’ll get it out of him sooner or later. Once he realizes he’s got no choice, it’ll just be a matter of time.”
Next to her, Veronica heard Keith exhale a small, exasperated sigh. His jaw was tight, but he watched the proceedings without any other reaction. She knew that poker face from experience. The deeper the anger, the harder the puzzle, the higher the stakes, the calmer Keith Mars looked. Which meant that right now, he was pissed.
A few yards away, Margie Dewalt wept silently into her handkerchief. Veronica met Ella’s eyes for one long, awful moment, forcing herself not to look away. Her breath felt tight in her chest. She saw Mr. Dewalt, pulling his phone out of his pocket, sticking his finger in his left ear to block out the sound of the crowd as he answered. His expression was confused. Then the crowd shifted, obscuring him from sight for a moment.
“All right, if there are no further questions—”
“Oh my god! She’s alive!”
People turned and craned their necks to see where the sudden cry had come from. A moment later Veronica caught sight of Mike Dewalt, his face a mask of anxious astonishment. He had a cell phone clamped to one ear.
A murmur went up from the crowd, only to die down as Mike spoke. “Hayley’s still alive.” His voice was a breathy croak. His eyes looked wild. “And so’s the other girl. They’re still alive.”
He held up the cell phone, as if it was some kind of proof. His eyes were fearful and excited all at once.
“Their kidnappers just called. And they want a ransom.”