“What’s that?”
He reached into the pocket of his jeans and removed his wallet. From that he took a small piece of paper that he handed over to Ali. On it was a list of numbers-872-GYG, along with a freestanding H that evidently wasn’t part of the number.
“What’s this?” Ali asked.
“You don’t know my daughters,” Bryan said softly. “Lindsey is bright as a new penny-fun and engaging. Lacy is different, smart but different. She likes order. She doesn’t like it if things are out of place or if they’re not what she’s used to. She notices things and can remember details that other kids don’t. Numbers especially.”
Ali studied the paper. “Is that where these numbers came from?” she asked. “From Lacy?”
Bryan nodded. “She saw a car parked along the road that morning when the bus went past on its way to school. It had never been there, so as far as Lacy was concerned, it shouldn’t have been there at all. That’s why she remembered the license number.”
“Is the H part of it, too?”
Bryan shook his head. “That was on the bumper, not the license. So it could have been a rental car-from Hertz, maybe.”
Ali handed the piece of paper back to Bryan. She remembered Dave mentioning that he intended to have the two girls interviewed by one of the children’s forensics specialists from up in Flagstaff.
“Did this information come from an interview with one of the child advocates?” Ali asked.
Bryan shook his head again. “Lacy doesn’t speak to strangers,” he said. “She doesn’t speak to anyone, really, not even me. The only person she actually communicates with is her sister. She told Lindsey about this last night, and Lindsey told me this morning. She said the license was green and white and that it had mountains on it.”
“So the vehicle is registered in Colorado, then,” Ali concluded. “Have you told Dave Holman? If there was an unidentified vehicle in the vicinity of a homicide, the investigating officers need to know about it.”
“There’s no way to know for sure if whoever was driving this vehicle had anything to do with what happened to Morgan,” Bryan said. “It could be totally unrelated-something as harmless as a hiker leaving his car parked along the road while he went for a walk.”
“It could also be a lot more than that,” Ali pointed out. “Dave needs to know about it.”
Several long seconds passed before Bryan replied. “Here’s the problem,” he said. “If Dave learns about it, he’ll want to question Lacy, and I don’t want him hounding her about anything. My girls have already been traumatized enough-Lacy in particular. Their mother’s dead. Their whole world is in an uproar. How much worse could it be?”
“Unfortunately, it could be a lot worse,” Ali told him. “What happens if you go to prison for Morgan’s murder? How traumatized will your daughters be then? If there’s even the smallest chance that this license number might lead to the killer, or even to someone who might have seen the killer and could help identify him, then you have an obligation to your daughters and to yourself to let the authorities in on it.”
Without another word, she picked up her cell phone and scrolled through the phone book until she located Dave’s number. Then she handed the phone over to Bryan.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“That’s Dave’s number. Press send and then talk to him. You can’t sit on this information, Bryan. It’s too important. It could be vital.”
Bryan stared at the phone in his hand but made no move to use it.
“Look,” Ali insisted, “you asked me to help you. I’m willing to do that, but not if you’re not willing to help yourself.”
“All Dave Holman is looking for is an excuse to slap me in jail.”
“Dave Holman doesn’t screw around,” Ali returned. “He’s a straight shooter. And he’s got kids who aren’t perfect himself. If you ask him to leave Lacy alone, he probably will. But you decide. Either call him and give him the information, or you’re on your own.”
For a moment her ultimatum hovered between them, then reluctantly, Bryan pressed send.
“Detective Holman?” he said when Dave answered. “It’s Bryan Forester. I have some information for you. Yes, I know I’m calling on Ali Reynolds’s phone. She insisted that I call.”
There was a long pause before Bryan spoke again. “It has to do with a vehicle that was spotted in the vicinity of our place the morning my wife died.” After another long pause, Bryan swallowed hard before he replied to Dave’s obvious question. “That would be my daughter Lacy. And no, I don’t have a description, beyond the fact that the car was blue but I have what I believe to be the license number-from Colorado. Yes. I’ll wait.” He turned to Ali and mouthed, “He’s getting a pencil.”
Several minutes later, Bryan had relayed the information. He closed the phone and handed it back to Ali. “There,” he said. “I hope you’re happy.”
Ali nodded. “It’s a start,” she said.
Bryan stood up.
“Where are you going?” Ali asked.
“I’ll go into the house and check on progress, then I’ll head back to the hotel. My mother doesn’t do well with Lacy, especially when it comes to mealtimes. Mother thinks Lacy is spoiled. She’s not. She’s just Lacy.”
He walked away, leaving Ali to wonder if Lacy’s different way of viewing the world might provide the one telling detail that could end up proving her father’s innocence.
Bryan was still in the house when Ali’s phone rang. She wasn’t surprised to see Dave Holman’s phone number.
“You had Bryan Forester call me on your phone?” Dave demanded. “Why are you having anything to do with him, Ali? He’s a possible murder suspect, a dangerous man.”
“Yes,” Ali agreed. “That’s the word on the street. I’m hearing the same thing from all the local hairdressers.”
“Ali, he’s playing on your sympathies. And this license thing. Where did that come from? It certainly didn’t show up in the CHAP interview.”
“I’m not surprised,” Ali said. “According to Bryan, Lacy doesn’t talk to anyone but her sister, but are you going to check the lead or not?”
“Of course I’m going to check it out,” Dave said, sounding exasperated. “But I’m also telling you that it’s in Bryan’s best interest to have us running around in circles and following up on useless leads. It’s what guys like him do. That’s how they think and how they work.”
“Bryan Forester didn’t kill his wife,” Ali asserted.
“How do you know?” Dave asked.
“Because he told me.”
“Right,” Dave said with a mirthless chuckle. “He told you, and you believed him. How does that old George Strait song go? ‘If you’ll buy that, I’ve got some oceanfront property in Arizona.’”
“But I do believe him,” Ali said.
Dave backed off. “Look, things were going badly for him. I’m hearing that Morgan wasn’t exactly walking the straight and narrow and that she was fooling around-a lot. I think it’s possible he and Morgan got into some kind of argument, and he lost it. I’m not saying that he didn’t have some real provocation, and I’m not saying it was premeditated. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t dangerous and unpredictable. Do yourself a favor, Ali. Do us all a favor. Stay away from him. Don’t get involved.”
“Sorry, Dave,” she said. “Remember, I was a murder suspect, too-and not all that long ago.” Ali ended the call knowing it was too late for Dave’s warning. She was already involved-very involved.
Bryan emerged from the house. “Ryan and Gary are close to finishing up with what little wallboard they have left. I told them that when they quit for the day, they should call me. I’ll pay them for whatever hours they’ve worked so far. After today, though, they should plan on taking the rest of the week off. I told them either I’ll give them a call or Mr. Brooks will when it’s time for them to come back.”