“I have the original at home,” he said softly as he studied it. “If I’d known she loved it, I would have given it to her.” He wiped away his tears, and then he said, “I’m being ridiculous, I know. I’ve got hundreds of people who work for me.”
“She was a lot more than just an employee to you. It hurts losing someone you care about.”
He nodded. “This is more difficult than I ever imagined. I’m sorry, Savannah. I just can’t do it.”
I hugged him, and though it was clear he wasn’t all that comfortable with anyone embracing him, he let me. When he pulled away, I said, “You don’t need to be here. I’ll go through and collect anything that looks like it might have sentimental value to you, and then I’ll bring it back to the hotel.”
“There was a necklace, sterling silver, with a cow pendant on it in black and white. She loved it, but it wasn’t found when her body was discovered.”
“I’ll keep my eyes open,” I said.
He nodded numbly, and then left without saying another word. After the car pulled away, I dead-bolted the door behind me and started digging into the apartment, and more importantly, Cindy Glass’s life.
CINDY WAS NEAT, WHICH WAS A REAL PLUS FOR ME, GIVEN the search I had ahead of me. Checking out her place was a lot easier because of it, but at the same time, it made me sad to think that this tidy young woman’s life was cut so short.
There was no way around it; I was going to have to pry into her most personal things if I was going to help Barton.
The first place I looked was her lingerie drawer, knowing that many women liked to hide things there. She had a great deal of conservatively cut panties for the week, but there were also a few brightly colored pairs that had to be reserved for the weekend. Under it all, wedged into the back of the drawer, I found a photograph of Cindy and a young man that couldn’t be identified by the snapshot. They’d been skiing, and he had a fit build, but his face had been haphazardly torn out of the photograph, leaving nothing really identifying in what was left behind. Who had it been, I wondered, and how long ago had she and he broken up? From the way the photograph was torn, I was guessing that the breakup hadn’t been Cindy’s decision. I took the picture and put it on the bed where I was starting a pile of things to take to Barton. I’d have to go over everything I collected again to make sure it wasn’t a clue before I turned anything over to him. Barton had asked me to take my time, and I was going to honor that request.
There were a few more photographs scattered throughout the apartment, mostly of Cindy and her friends, and then I found one I was certain Barton would want. It showed the two of them together, standing side by side and smiling broadly. In the background was a sign hanging from the ceiling proclaiming “Happy St. Patrick’s Day.” I wasn’t sure where it had been taken, but I put it on the growing pile and moved on.
As I searched the small apartment, I kept my eyes open for the cow pendant necklace Barton had mentioned. There wasn’t much in the place in the way of jewelry, just some oversized earrings and a few glittering peace symbol necklaces housed in a small wooden box that appeared to have been made at summer camp a long time ago. Cindy had retro tastes in her jewelry as well as her curtains and bedspread. The material in her bedroom for both sported a matching pattern of brown, gold, and green rings on an orange background. I wondered what her clothes were like. As I opened the small closet door, I found mostly work clothes, but among her prim business suits, I found another section of the closet filled with flared blue jeans and bright tops. Cindy was clearly button-down at work, but when she played, it was obvious that she enjoyed casual comfort. In the kitchen, I searched each drawer and cabinet in turn, but it was so generic that it could have been anyone’s place, so there was nothing to add to the pile. The living room, the only other room in the apartment besides the tiny bathroom, had few things of a personal nature in it. All I could come up with was a half-finished crossword puzzle, and a well-read copy of Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. I was about to leave it on the table, but then I spontaneously added it to the pile.
As I walked back into the living room, I saw that there was a blinking light on her answering machine. Out of habit, I hit the play button and heard a man’s voice say, “Cin? Are you there? Call me, this fight is ridiculous.” Who was she fighting with, and why? Hadn’t he heard that she was dead?
This sounded like something Zach should know. I picked up my cell phone and dialed my husband’s number.
He picked up on the fourth ring, just before it went to voice mail. “’Lo?”
“Hey, did I call at a bad time?” I asked.
“No, I was digging into one of the last boxes of evidence, and I couldn’t hear my phone. What’s up? Are you still at the Glass place?”
“I am,” I said. “I promised Barton I’d stay as long as I needed to.”
“Is he there with you?”
“No, he came in with me, but he couldn’t take it. I’m collecting a few things for him, and I was walking past the answering machine when I noticed that the light was blinking, so I hit the play button.”
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “We’re in the middle of an active police investigation.”
“You’re the one who gave me permission to come here, remember?” If he was going to use that tone of voice with me, he was going to get it right back.
“Sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I’m just tired, I guess. What did it say?”
“Evidently she was fighting with someone, and he called to make up with her.”
“If he killed her, he had to know she wouldn’t be getting the message.”
“I thought of that.” I said. “But what if he’s trying to make it look like he’s innocent? That call might help him, if a jury hears it. Shouldn’t you trace it?”
“It’s probably innocent enough, but I’ll have Joe look into it. He’s the guy who drove me over here today. Hang on.” He covered the mouthpiece, but I could still hear some of his conversation.
A minute later, he asked, “Is there anything else?” “I’m not sure I want to share the rest of it with you,” I said.
“Come on, give me a break, Savannah. I’m up against the wall here.”
My voice softened. “Did Davis give you a hard time today?”
Zach snorted. “He never showed up for our meeting, and no one’s seen him around here all day.”
“That’s a good thing then, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know about that. When the police chief bails out on you, it can’t be good.”
“How about Grady? Have you spoken with him?”
“Nobody knows where he is, either. He told his assistant that he was taking the day off. Who knows, maybe the two of them are off somewhere conspiring.”
“Slow down, Zach. Don’t let the paranoia get to you.”
He sighed. “I know. I’m just whipped.”
“I am, too. I found a photo of Cindy and a man in her lingerie drawer.”
“Really? I looked there, but I didn’t see anything.”
I kept my comment about my husband going through a woman’s lingerie drawer to myself. He didn’t need to hear me teasing him at the moment. “It was in the back, wedged in. I’m not sure it means anything. The guy’s face has been ripped out of the picture.”
“Wrap it up in your handkerchief and don’t touch it any more than you have to. I’ll get it from you tonight. What else did you find?”
“It’s what I didn’t find that’s bothering me. Do you know if the investigating officers collected any personal correspondence from her place?”
“Sure, I don’t even have to look. There’s a box of letters she kept, along with some photos that might be significant, and a few other things. Why?”