“I’ve messed up your evening schedule,” Angie said. “He would be asleep now if not for me.”
Vivian patted the baby on his back. “It’s okay. I needed to talk to someone anyway about an issue that’s been preying on my mind.”
“Sure.”
For a moment she was silent as if wrestling with her thoughts. “I never banked on being a mother again,” Vivian said. “I was over forty when Lulu was born, and I’ll be sixty-three on my next birthday.”
Angie tried to keep her gaze on Vivian, but her attention remained on the baby. She wanted to hold him, but asking didn’t feel right. “He looks happy and healthy.”
“It’s all I can do to take care of him now. And I really worry about what will happen when he is older. I’ll be close to seventy when he goes to kindergarten.”
The baby thrust out his arms to Angie and tipped his weight toward her. She reached out for him to steady him. Vivian released her hold on the boy and let him tumble into Angie’s embrace.
He possessed surprising strength in his little body. She imagined when he grew up he’d be a big man. He’d have a body for football or soccer, not track or swimming. “Where is David’s father?”
“Lulu doesn’t know who his father is. She was mighty confused around the time he was conceived and made a lot of very bad choices.”
“Is there anyone who can help you?”
“My husband died fifteen years ago, and I’ve no brothers or sisters. Ms. Carlson, I’m worried. What if Lulu doesn’t come back? And if she does, what kind of shape will she be in?”
Angie couldn’t scramble any words of encouragement. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t want him going to the state. I don’t want him with strangers.”
“Is there a neighbor or someone that you know who could act as his guardian?”
“Can I even do that? I have custody, but I don’t know if I have the right to make decisions on his future.”
“I’m not an expert in family law, but I can ask around and see what your options are.”
“I don’t have the money to pay you or any attorney.”
David’s shirt rode up on his back, and Angie tugged it back in place. “No charge. It’s important to me that he’s taken care of. I owe that much to Lulu.”
“I appreciate that.” Vivian shook her head. “Two years ago when I sat in that courtroom and watched you tear into Lulu, I never figured you’d ever give me a reason to smile.”
Angie patted David’s back. He burped. She didn’t always enjoy the demands of her job. “I had a job to do.”
Vivian nodded. “We don’t always like what we have to do. I sure never figured I’d be suing my kid for her child.”
The older woman stiffened and closed her eyes. Her expression froze, and her skin lightened two shades. She leaned forward as if she was going to be sick.
“Are you all right?” Angie said. She wrapped one hand around the baby’s midsection and reached out to Vivian with the other. The woman’s skin felt like ice.
Vivian took long deep breaths. “Ever had that feeling that something bad has happened?”
“Sure.”
“Well, I’m feeling it now.” She raised her watery gaze to Angie. “I got the terrible sense that Lulu is dying.”
Lulu searched the dark eyes of the new guy. She prayed he’d set her free, but feared he’d use her like his partner.
The last hours with the other guy had been an endless tumble of violence and sex. He’d enjoyed hurting her and telling her she was getting exactly what she deserved. Now her body was so bruised and battered she doubted she could run even if this new guy flung the door wide open.
The man held up a syringe and squeezed the plunger until a faint stream of liquid squirted out.
She sensed without being told that the needle would take her pain away forever. She’d never have to struggle with sobriety or crappy jobs. She’d never again lay awake at night chewed up with guilt and ticking through the list of her screwups. She’d never have any more dreams about David being taken away from her. The needle offered freedom.
But it was the kind of freedom she didn’t want.
“Where is the other man?” she said.
“Gone.”
“Why?”
“He’s finished with you. Now it’s my turn.”
“Are you going to hurt me too?”
“No. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I want to live,” she said. Her bruised throat felt dry and scratchy. “I don’t want to die.”
The man’s eyes remained cold and dead. “You don’t get a vote.”
She raised her hand up to his and wrapped her fingers around his wrist. Surprising strength coursed through her fingers as she dug her nails into his skin. “Get the fuck away from me.”
He jerked away and slapped her hand down. “Be nice.”
“Nice. Drop dead.”
“That’s your move, not mine.” In one easy move, he drove the needle roughly into her neck and pushed the plunger.
Liquid burned into her skin, sending death through her body. Her heart beat faster and faster, as if fighting against the attack. A vein in her neck throbbed.
She drew in a breath, but her lungs wouldn’t accept any air. She pulled a second time, but her body refused the command.
The eyes that stared down at her now fired with excitement and life.
Like a vampire, he fed on her death.
Oh, God, I don’t want to die!
Panic exploded as death stole the last bit of life from her body.
It was past nine when Detective Sinclair checked the address, glanced at the green tri-level, and got out of her police-issue car. The neighborhood was mid-income but nicely kept. The houses were older, smaller, but the lawns were large. The extra land was a real luxury in Alexandria, where nearly all the available land was developed with closely placed homes, condos, and high rises.
She crossed the lawn and rang the front bell. A dog barked inside the house, and she could hear the hum of a vacuum cleaner. When she didn’t get an answer, she rang the bell again and knocked. The dog barked louder and the vacuum stopped. Seconds later footsteps moved toward the door, and after a pause, the door opened.
Standing behind the screened door was a neatly dressed woman who’d pulled back her graying hair into a neat ponytail. She wore minimal makeup, which softened the lines around her eyes and mouth. “Can I help you?”
Sinclair pulled out her badge. “I’m Detective Jennifer Sinclair with Alexandria Police. Are you Flora Redman Knight?”
“Yes.”
“I was hoping you could answer some questions for me about Fay Willow.”
She straightened. “Fay? She died almost thirty years ago.”
“Yes, ma’am. We’re looking into her case.”
“Why now?”
The neighbor next door came out on his front porch and glanced toward her. He st
ared without shame.
Sinclair stared back until he shifted his gaze and retreated back into the house. “Would you mind if I came inside?”
“Sure.” She pushed the screen door open wider.
Sinclair was greeted by the scent of pine cleaner. The living room was decorated in soft greens and was showroom clean. A baby gate between the kitchen and the living room kept a barking Pomeranian at bay. The dog yapped as if its home had been invaded.
“Tootsie, stop!” Mrs. Redman said. She moved to the gate, pulled a treat from her pocket, and fed it to the dog. “She’ll calm down. She’s been nervous around strangers since my husband died last year.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sinclair never considered herself a dog person. Cats were more to her tastes. They were quiet, independent, and not emotionally needy.
“You wanted to ask me about Fay.”
“Yes, ma’am. The original police file listed you as her roommate at the time of her death.”
“Yes. We shared an apartment for about a year.”
“Can you tell me about her?”
“Beautiful. Ambitious. She liked men and they liked her. When she went missing I knew something was wrong. We’d been scheduled to travel to New York for the weekend, and she loved New York. I knew when she didn’t come home to pack her bag that something was wrong.”
“Any idea who might have killed her?”
“You know she was sleeping with Darius Cross?”
“There was a brief mention of it in the police file.”
She adjusted the pearl stud on her ear. “Darius never would have admitted to the affair, of course, but I knew. Fay couldn’t keep a secret so well.”
“How did the two meet?”
“At a party for the Talbot Museum. She was in charge of inviting the rich and famous to an opening. She delivered an invitation to Cross personally. I guess he took one look at her and decided to follow. Shortly after, he made a big donation to the Talbot.”
“How long did the affair last?”
“Six months. Up until about a month before her death. She and Darius got into a fight.”
“About?”