Back Against The Wall. Janice Kay Johnson
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she must have created. It was brief.”
“Do you still have it?”
He shook his head. “We’ve replaced that computer several times since. I’m sure I printed it for that police officer, but I didn’t need to for myself.” Old pain parted the curtain of vagueness. “I could tell you what it said word for word.”
Tony preferred to locate the printout in a file at the station. On an investigation, he rarely trusted anyone.
“Did the police fingerprint the computer mouse?” he asked.
“It was only one officer, and he didn’t suggest anything like that. He really wasn’t here very long.”
Tony understood. People went missing all the time. Law enforcement response was quite different when a child disappeared, but adults most often did turn up later.
“We thought she’d call.”
“Had you quarreled right before she disappeared?”
“Right before?” he said in apparent surprise. “Well, I don’t know. That was a long time ago. She’d been annoyed with me, but I hoped whatever was bothering her would pass.”
Tony barely refrained from shaking his head. How could this guy fail to grasp the implications here? Well, sure, she and I weren’t getting along. Save the note on the computer? Why would I do that?
“Did you hear from her?” It was conceivable he wouldn’t have told his kids, depending on what was said. Or that he’d choose to lie now.
“Never a word.” He sounded puzzled. “Didn’t seem like Christine, but... Bethie was old enough to take over helping her sister and making meals, so nothing changed all that much.”
Unbelievable. His wife vanished into thin air, but in his view, nothing much changed because, hey, his fifteen-year-old daughter stepped up and kept the family running. Either John Marshall was the most self-centered human being Tony had ever encountered, or he was guilty as hell. Maybe both.
The conglomeration of stuff in the garage made sense now. Tony was willing to bet a pile of boxes had started growing at that exact spot in the garage shortly after Christine Marshall had run away from home. There was a good chance, in fact, that her husband had immediately made sure the one stretch of wall wasn’t visible, in case the police actually troubled to do a walk-through of the house.
Tony rose to his feet. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Marshall. I need to ask you to stay out of the garage. We’ll block both doors with yellow tape.”
A look of glazed bewilderment was all the response he received.
As he went out the French door, he heard a spate of voices. The department’s two crime scene investigators must have just come around the side of the house, both suited up in white Tyvek and carrying a toolbox, camera and more. Matt and Beth had obviously hopped right up, while the baby sister didn’t bother. Arms wrapped around herself, she had summoned an expression that was a cross between pouty and distressed. Was self-centeredness hereditary?
“Jess,” Tony said, nodding. “Larry.”
They both appeared grateful to see him. Their job didn’t usually include a lot of interaction with victims’ families.
He looked at the Marshall siblings. “You might want to wait inside with your father.”
“Can’t we go home?” Emily blurted. “Do we have to sit here?”
“Do you all have your own cars?”
Nodded heads.
“That’s fine, then. Let me get phone numbers and addresses first.”
Beth’s chin jutted out. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Neither am I,” her brother said, suddenly belligerent.
Tony raised his eyebrows but only said mildly, “That’s up to you.”
He jotted down Emily’s contact info. She fervently hugged Matt and Beth, then fled.
No loss.
Tony stepped into the garage to join his team. Individual interviews with the siblings could wait until he knew what he was dealing with.
* * *
BETH WENT TO check on her father, to find him sitting in his recliner, staring into space. He must not have moved.
“Dad? Are you all right?”
He turned his head. “How could this happen?”
“You mean, us noticing something was off and checking it out?”
“No, that the detective asked questions about your mother.” His fingers bit into the arms of the recliner. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t, either,” she admitted, going to perch on the upholstered arm of his chair, where she could give him a quick hug.
More agitated than she’d ever seen him, he didn’t even seem to notice her embrace. “Are they sure?”
“I don’t think so, yet.” Although, Detective Navarro wouldn’t have called a CSI team if he wasn’t reasonably sure.
CSI. In our house. The idea was unreal. In those white getups, they actually looked like the swarm of investigators in the background on TV shows like NCIS.
“I guess we’ll find out,” she added. “Can I get you anything?”
He shook his head and, after waiting for a minute, Beth went outside to join Matt, once more planted in a lawn chair. She picked up her drink, which already felt warm, and sat in the other chair.
“I freaking can’t believe this,” he muttered.
“Me either.”
He turned a look of pure hostility on her. “You and your bright ideas.”
Beth’s mouth dropped open. “This is my fault?” Except, she thought guiltily, it kind of was. Her idea to clean out the garage, her curiosity that led her to look inside the hole.
“What if they open the garage door?”
Surprised, she said, “They haven’t?”
“One of them went out and got a couple of portable lamps.” He snorted. “Like everyone on the block and everyone driving by hasn’t noticed two police vehicles out in front of Dad’s house.”
She frowned. “I don’t actually think the detective came in a police car. He was driving a pickup truck.”
“Oh, that means no one will ever hear about this,” Matt said sarcastically.
“That’s what you’re most worried about?” Although why she was surprised she couldn’t have said. Appearances had always mattered more to Matt than to her. Still. “What if that’s Mom? What if she’s been dead all these years, and we thought she’d left us?”
“What if our father gets tried for murder?”
The air left her lungs in a rush. “That’s ridiculous! How can you think for a minute—”
“Who else, Beth? Use your head, for once.”
“For once? What are you talking about?”
“You live in your own damn dream world, just like he does. Everybody is nice. Well-meaning.”
Her mouth fell open. Did she know this brother, mocking her so cruelly?
“Nobody ever abuses a frail old man, do they?” His voice rose. “Nobody steals, beats her kid, cooks meth and sells it. And nobody ever murders his wife!”
Matt was yelling by the end. Beth wasn’t at all surprised to see Detective Navarro stepping into sight. Eavesdropping, of course, but he couldn’t help but have heard.
“You