In Silence. Erica Spindler
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Matt shifted his gaze to hers. “You see why I chose the sheriff’s department over the CSPD? He’d have been all over me, all day.”
Buddy snorted. “Right. Nobody needs to sit on top of you and you know it. You practically breathe that job.” He wagged a finger at his son. “Truth be told, I wouldn’t have had you work for me—I’d never have gotten a moment’s peace.”
“Slacker.” Matt strode into the room, stopping behind Avery’s chair. “You have a woman call in a missing person last week?” he asked his dad.
Buddy’s expression tensed. “Yeah. What about it?”
“Just got off the phone with her. She thinks you’re not doing anything on the case, asked the sheriff’s department to check it out.”
The older man leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know what she expects. I’ve done everything I can do.”
“Figured as much. Had to ask anyway.”
Avery moved her gaze between the two men. “Do I need to go?”
“You’re okay.” Matt laid a hand on her shoulder. “In fact, you’re an investigative reporter, you give us your take on this. Dad?”
Buddy nodded and took over. “I got a call last week from a woman who said her boyfriend contacted her by cell phone from just outside Cypress Springs. He told her he broke down and was going to call a service station for a tow. She never heard from him again.”
“Where was he heading?” she asked.
“To St. Francisville. Coming from a meeting in Clinton.”
“Why?”
“Business. Meeting with a client. He was in advertising.”
“Go on.”
“I spoke with every service station within twenty miles. Nobody got a call. I asked around town, put up flyers, haven’t gotten a nibble. I told her that.”
Matt moved around her chair and perched on the edge of the desk, facing her. “So, what do you think? She’s screaming foul play.”
“So where’s the body?” Avery asked. “Where’s the car?”
“And not any car. A Mercedes. Tough to lose one of those around here.” Matt pursed his lips. “But why would this woman lie?”
“We see a lot of that in journalism. Everybody wants their fifteen minutes of fame. To feel important. Or in this woman’s case, maybe to rationalize why her boyfriend hasn’t called.”
She glanced at her watch and saw that it was nearly time for her meeting at Gallagher’s. She stood. “I’ve got to go. Danny Gallagher is expecting me in at two.” She looked at Buddy. “Thanks for taking all this time to talk to me, I appreciate it.”
“If something comes to mind, I’ll let you know.” He came around the desk and kissed her cheek. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I always am.”
“Good girl.”
Matt touched her arm. “I’ll walk you out.”
They exited the station and stepped into the bright midday sun. Avery dug her sunglasses out of her handbag. She slipped them on and looked up to find him gazing at her.
“What were you and Dad talking about?”
“A box of newspaper clippings I found in Dad’s closet. They were all concerning the same event, the Sallie Waguespack murder.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
“It doesn’t?”
“That’s the story that blew this little burg wide open.”
“I hardly remembered it until I read those clippings today.”
“Because of Dad, I lived it.” He grimaced. “The night of the murder, I heard him with Mom. He was … crying. It’s the only time I ever heard him cry.”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I feel like such an ostrich. First Dad, now learning this. I wonder—” She bit the words back and shook her head. “I need to go. Danny’s expecting—”
“You wonder what?” he asked, touching her arm.
She let out a constricted-sounding breath. “I’m starting to wonder just what kind of person I am.”
“You were young. It wasn’t your tragedy.”
“And what of now? What about my dad? Was that my tragedy?”
“Avery, you can’t keep beating yourself up about this. You didn’t light that match. He did.”
But if she had been here for him, would he still have done it?
“I’ve got to go, Matt. Danny’s waiting.”
She started off. He called her name, stopping her. She turned.
“Next Sunday? Spring Fest?”
“With you?”
He shot her his cocky smile. The one that had always had her saying yes when she should have been saying no. “If you think you could take an entire day of my company?”
She returned the smile. “I think I could manage it.”
“Great. I’ll give you a call about the time.”
Pleased, she watched him head back to his cruiser. In that moment, he looked sixteen. Full of the machismo of youth, buoyed by a yes from the opposite sex.
“If you’re not serious, just stay away. Just … stay … away.”
Her smile slipped as she remembered Cherry’s warning.
Avery shook off the ripple of unease that moved over her. She was being ridiculous. Cherry was a sweet girl who was worried about her brother. Matt was lucky to have someone who cared so much about him.
CHAPTER 7
The Gavel called the meeting to order. All six of his generals were in attendance. Ready to do battle. To lay down their lives for their beliefs and their community.
Each believed himself a patriot at war.
He surveyed the group, proud of them, of his selections. They represented both the old and new guard of Cypress Springs. Wisdom invigorated by youth. Youth tempered by the wisdom of experience. A difficult combination to beat.
“Good evening,” he said. “As always, I appreciate the sacrifice each of you made to be here tonight.”
Because of the nature of the group, because some would not understand their motives—even those who stood to benefit most from their efforts, indeed, their sacrifice—they met in secret and under cover of late night. Even their families didn’t know the location or true nature of these meetings.
“I have bad news,” he told the group. “I have reason to believe Elaine St. Claire has contacted a Cypress Springs citizen.”
A murmur went around the table. One of his generals spoke. “How certain are you of this?”
“Quite. I saw the letter myself.”
“This is bad,” another said. “If she’s brazen enough to contact someone in Cypress Springs, she very well might contact the authorities.”
“I plan to take care of it.”
“How? Isn’t she living in New Orleans?”
“She can destroy us,” another interjected. “To leave Cypress Springs is to lose the safety of our number.”
The Gavel shook his head, saddened. New Orleans had been the perfect