what she knew (BREAKDOWN Book 4) Page 5

  No matter how she tried to protect both her staff and their patients, once the announcement for a press conference was made, the tension was palpable. A natural effect, even if she didn’t like it. Everyone in Shutter Lake hoped to hear the police investigation was progressing.

  Everyone but the killer, she thought, as she walked in to meet with her next patient.

  At a few minutes past the hour, Ana scooted through the crowd gathered in front of City Hall waiting for the press conference to start. Three weeks now and Ana could see people had established their favorite places, as if this was a new community event rather than a house of horrors disguised by deep blue skies and vibrant autumn color on the trees.

  At the podium, Laney stood to the right of Griff who looked decidedly stern and official as Mayor Jessup joined them.

  “Have I missed anything?” Ana asked.

  “Only the sound check,” Dana said.

  Ana glanced back toward the podium and thought she had a few more seconds. Leaning closer to Dana again she lowered her voice so they wouldn’t be overheard. It wasn’t easy to ask about the arrangement with Troy Duval without violating Heidi’s privacy, but she tiptoed around the privacy issues to keep her promise to Heidi.

  The particulars of fulfilling that promise would have to wait as the Mayor greeted the community gathered in the street. He gave precious few details about either Sylvia’s case or the body from the river, instead inviting Chief McCabe to the podium right away.

  Ana knew at once what McCabe was about to say. She could see it etched onto his face.

  “Through a cooperative effort, the coroner has identified the body pulled from the river as Josie Rodriguez.”

  A ripple of unease swept over the crowd. Ana swallowed a gasp of fear. The news wasn’t a surprise, but that didn’t give it any less impact. She pulled out her cell phone and sent a text to her backup teacher for this evening’s yoga class. After this news, she needed to juggle her priorities for the sake of herself and her patients.

  When Ana returned her attention to the press conference, the mayor was at the podium again, both hands curled tight around the edges, his lips pressed into a firm line as he collected his thoughts. The expertly-tailored suit couldn’t overcome the stark changes that worry had carved on his normal professional friendliness and composure.

  “I understand this is a shock to our community,” Jessup said. “The loss we’re facing is tragic. One of our own, born and raised here and now… Now a bright young woman who aspired to call this area home.”

  A soft cry carried over the crowd as Yolanda Cole turned into the supportive embrace of her husband Zion.

  “Please,” the mayor continued, “I implore you, speak up if you have any information about either of these investigations. No detail is too small. Quentin and Katherine Windermere, Josie’s family during her time here as an exchange student, have added one million dollars to the current reward for any information on Sylvia Cole’s case.

  “Our police department is working around the clock to resolve these cases so we can all grieve, heal, and move forward with some measure of confidence and peace.”

  A low blow, Ana thought, eyeing Laney and Griff. Since when had anyone lost confidence in the SLPD? They were doing all they could, sifting through the facts and wild tips alike for a real lead.

  “I will double current reward we’ve offered,” Zion called out. “I won’t rest until we have justice for our daughter.”

  Ana cringed at the announcement. Beside her Dana and Julia gasped. Laney must have been expecting it, she didn’t react at all. Adding to the multi-million dollar reward would only result in more false leads for the police department to verify or dismiss.

  While she sympathized with Laney’s new challenges, she had problems and concerns of her own. Like Zion, she cared less about the fallout and more about finding justice for the victims. More than anything, she wanted to help. And she would, she vowed, even if it meant getting sucked back into a treacherous past better buried, if never forgotten.

  Yolanda Cole stepped to the podium, dabbing moisture from her eyes and nose with a tissue. “Services…” Her voice faltered and the sniffle was audible through the microphones.

  Ana admired her courage. Up until this point, Zion had done all the talking for the grieving couple.

  He wrapped his arm around her shoulders in support. She bit her lip and then took a deep breath. “Sylvia’s memorial service will be held Wednesday afternoon at one o’clock at the church.” Slowly, she steeled herself, her posture straightening, her head lifting to look out at the crowd of friends and neighbors. “Following the service, we will receive visitors at our home.” Another sniffle. “Zion and I would like to express our deep, deep gratitude to everyone for the tremendous support during this difficult time.”

  Murmurs of sympathy flowed from the crowd toward the Coles as the press conference wrapped up. Ana’s gaze tangled with Laney’s. Whatever she’d done to get Sylvia’s body released, Ana was thankful. Yolanda caught Laney in a big hug before Zion guided her back into the relative privacy of city hall.

  If only Sylvia had been more forthcoming about her relationship with Nolan, the three of them could help each other grieve. Wishing wouldn’t fix anything. Never had. Both she and Sylvia had agreed wholeheartedly that actions were far more valuable than ideas and intentions that never got off the ground.

  Ana resisted the temptation to seek out Yolanda and check on her. She was on the clinic schedule tomorrow for a follow up on the brief heart-scare that had most likely been grief-induced. Right now, Ana was better off following her intuition. Maybe, if things went well tonight, she would be able to both assist Laney’s case and ease Yolanda’s broken heart.

  Chapter Five

  Ana relaxed on the drive to Troy Duval’s house. The weather was clear, though the temperature was dropping as the sun sank into the west. Troy’s home, a mansion disguised as a log cabin, sat near the back of his property, affording him the most possible privacy. A respectable vineyard spread out to either side of the long, winding driveway.

  The enormous iron gates were closed, as she’d expected. She stopped, rolling down her window. She reached over and pressed the call button on the keypad to let him know she’d arrived.

  “I’ll open the front door,” he said. “Come on in.”

  She entered her code and waited for the gates to part. Leaving her window down, she breathed in the clean, clear air, soaking up the views and scents of the recently harvested grapes.

  At the house, she parked on the left and stepped out of the car. Either Troy or someone he trusted had been working on winterizing his vegetable garden. Who did he trust? She admired his patience and determination with keeping that up, considering his progressing MS. If he didn’t already have help, he would need to start interviewing soon.

  Belatedly, she noticed his was the only house in the area lacking fall decorations. She didn’t claim to have an eye for design, but she could put up a wreath for him. With his permission, of course.

  She knocked on the front door and waited a moment before turning the handle and stepping into the foyer. “Troy? It’s Dr. Perez.”

  “In the great room,” he called out. “Come on back.” His MS limited him almost as much as the tragedy of losing his wife and young daughter to violence. She supposed the quiet restfulness had drawn him to Shutter Lake much as it had her.

  “Dr. Perez.” He smiled, inviting her to join him near the fire. “This is a nice surprise.”

  She wasn’t so sure he’d think so when she confessed what brought her out to see him. “How are you feeling?”

  “Today’s been more of a challenge. You understand.”

  She did. Still, he’d prepared tea. A tray rested on the table between the two chairs closest to the stone fireplace. A cobalt blue tea pot, matching sugar bowl and cream pitcher and two heavy yellow mugs were ready and waiting.

  Taking her seat, she let him pour for both of them before she gave him
the news. The tea was a warm, spicy chai that soothed the rough edges of her day. “Delicious, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Cupping the tea with both hands, she told him about the press conference. “Sylvia’s memorial service is Wednesday afternoon. One o’clock. If you’d like to go I can arrange for—”

  He held up a hand, interrupting her. “No need for any special arrangements. I don’t plan to attend.”

  She suspected funerals, especially this one, would be difficult for a man who’d been falsely accused of killing his wife and daughter.

  “The Coles are hosting a reception at the house if that would be more comfortable for you,” she suggested.

  “Dr. Perez—”

  “You were more than a client,” she said, interrupting him this time. “She spoke quite highly of you and I know she considered you a good friend.”

  “I merely gave her advice she found useful,” Troy replied in the modest manner she considered his trademark. “I may not get out much anymore, but I do still enjoy feeling useful.”

  Like the property outside, Ana noted his home was neat and cared for. No dust or cobwebs gathering in corners. “How is your new housekeeper working out?”

  “I’m not sure.” He sipped his tea. “It seems Sylvia is the only one at Sparkle who could tolerate me.”

  “I’m sure that isn’t true.”

  He arched an eyebrow, a glint of humor in his gaze. “If it gets around that I’m not a grumpy, moldering ogre, I’ll have visitors night and day.”

  This side of him gave her a glimpse into the lively, fulfilled man he’d been. “Whatever your intent, you certainly made a positive impression on Heidi Udall.”

  “The baker?” He frowned into his tea.

  “Yes,” Ana confirmed. “That’s another reason I stopped in,” she said. “She won’t be visiting next week as planned. I’m afraid she’ll be indisposed for several weeks.”

  “The drugs caught up with her?”

  “You knew about her habit?”

  He nodded. “I offered to help her, if she got clean.”

  Ana digested that. Sylvia had been the first person she’d trusted enough to share snippets of her history. Sylvia had trusted Troy. “Do you know why Heidi started visiting you?”

  “I assume someone paid her,” he said easily. “Ms. Udall has great potential as an entrepreneur. She lacked focus and strategy. Maybe time in drug rehab will change that.”

  He didn’t sound too confident and Ana had to agree with him. Many users slipped back into the habit despite their best intentions. “Do you have any idea where she bought her drugs? She was less than cooperative when Deputy Chief Holt asked about her dealer. ”

  “Her dealer doesn’t live in Shutter Lake.”

  “Laney will be relieved to hear it, thank you. Would you like me to continue to stop by as Sylvia did? Not to clean,” she joked, “but to visit. I can help with the garden if you like.” She hoped she’d still be here to keep any promises to help him in the seasons to come.

  He sat back, narrowing his gaze as he studied her. The firelight caressed his face like a lover, and she thought he must have been devastatingly handsome in his prime. “Will you bring sugar-free treats or the real thing?”

  Ana laughed. If she’d gone looking for a bright spot in her day, she never would have looked here. It was a refreshing discovery. “I’ll bring the real thing,” she promised.

  And now she had more motivation than ever to make sure she didn’t have to run from Shutter Lake as she’d had to run from the life she’d been born into. There were plenty of doctors who could provide Mr. Duval’s care, but the man needed a friend he could count on. So did Ana.

  She topped off his tea and hers and settled back into the chair.

  “What else is on your mind, Dr. Perez?” He tilted his head toward her hands folded in her lap. “It’s your tell that something serious is up for discussion.”

  She hadn’t realized she’d set the mug aside. No sense dawdling over the rest of it now. “You heard they pulled a body from the river yesterday.” He always seemed to know a great deal about happenings in town despite keeping to himself out here.

  He nodded, though it hadn’t been a question. “I assume the body was Josie Rodriguez.”

  “Yes. They confirmed it earlier.”

  “Sylvia was convinced that girl was in trouble,” Troy said.

  “We discussed her concern for Josie a time or two as well.” Ana picked up her tea again.

  Troy’s eyebrows briefly lifted toward his hairline. “What did she tell you?”

  “She didn’t believe there was any reason for Josie to return to Venezuela. The girl worked part time for Sparkle to help support her parents.”

  “They relocated to Grass Valley when she was selected for the exchange student opportunity.”

  Wow. Sylvia had trusted him with more information than Ana anticipated. It bolstered her courage. “What did Sylvia share with you about me?”

  “No, no.” He waved a hand. “You know that wasn’t her habit. In and out of people’s homes, her livelihood depended on her discretion. We spoke of Josie’s situation simply because she was searching for answers to the girl’s disappearance. Whatever she found or learned of a sensitive nature she kept to herself. Gossip would have hurt her business as well as her clients.”

  He was right. Ana’s profession was similar. Sylvia hadn’t taken an oath or been subjected to stringent privacy laws, but that didn’t make confidentiality less important to a successful career.

  “We chatted, of course, about events in town,” Troy continued. “But she didn’t spread gossip or secrets the way you’re implying.”

  “I don’t mean to offend you or her memory. Sylvia’s discretion was one of her finest traits. When Josie supposedly flew back to Venezuela and then never checked in, Sylvia grew almost desperate about finding her.”

  “It bothered her a great deal,” Troy agreed.

  “As you said, she was convinced the girl was in serious trouble. She was right, clearly. We both assumed the trouble was in Venezuela.”

  He nodded, his mug balanced on the arm of the chair. “I imagine you were a helpful resource as she planned her trip to South America.”

  The comment left her momentarily speechless. She might as well be sitting here naked, she felt that exposed. She’d never told Sylvia where she’d been born. She knew her features and coloring were distinctly Hispanic, though she happily let people believe she’d been born in the United States. At this point, it shouldn’t matter how or what Troy assumed versus what he knew. From the moment she’d escaped her wicked father and that dreadful life in Colombia, she was living on borrowed time. The security she’d felt in Shutter Lake was as much of an illusion as the woman known as Luciana Perez who became a doctor.

  “Sylvia and I discussed how she could stay safe while she searched for Josie’s family,” Ana admitted.

  “You gave her a contact, am I right?”

  “Were you a psychic before you retired here?”

  His gaze drifted to the fire crackling in the hearth. “Unfortunately, no,” he replied sadly.

  Sympathy swelling, she returned to the subject that only made her uncomfortable. “There was no guarantee the contact would be good anymore, but the name and address would have led her to someone helpful. It wasn’t smart for her to visit a country on the brink of collapse without some kind of assistance. She refused to let me come along.”

  “You traveling in that part of the world would’ve been foolish and you know it.”

  She had known it. How had he? “For Sylvia I would have risked it.” Ana pinned Troy with a long look. “How is it you came to that conclusion?”

  “I make it my business to know the people in my sphere. Especially if I need to rely on those people.”

  Her manufactured background had held up to the city council’s extensive checks and verifications. “Are you questioning my credentials?”

  “
No, not at all.” His smile was sincere, if not quite friendly. “Your credentials are solid and your expertise is impressive. I’m delighted you’re my doctor.”

  “However?”

  “Relax, Dr. Perez. At this stage of your career, no one else will go looking at your high school transcripts or old mailing addresses unless you give them a reason to do so.”

  An icy chill slid down her spine. He spoke as if he knew the whole story, as if he found the weak link in her manufactured background. The urge to defend herself and to validate her commitment to Shutter Lake, the name and the country she’d adopted was almost irrepressible.

  Which was exactly the point, she supposed, taking a breath. He couldn’t know. He must be baiting her into confirming his suspicions, though she had no idea why. This visit wasn’t about her, it was about Sylvia’s search for Josie.

  “That is a good example of why I’m here. The advice and time you gave Sylvia made her a more confident person, which made her even more successful and helped her empower others.”

  Troy stared her down.

  “I’m saying she trusted you as she trusted few others.”

  He traced the handle of his mug. “I merely emphasized how important it was to know the people around you. Being prepared means avoiding unpleasant surprises.”

  “I need someone to trust,” she said baldly. “Someone to hear me out.”

  He gestured for her to continue. “Consider this a vault. I want Sylvia’s killer found and brought to justice as much as you do.”

  Ana struggled to sit still as she planned her navigation through a conversation that had become as dangerous as a minefield. One wrong step and Troy would know more than she intended to share with anyone. “When Sylvia was making plans to rescue Josie, she promised me she would create a backup file. It was some sort of golden parachute in case something happened to her during the search.”

  “You mean a dead man’s switch,” Troy corrected her. “A golden parachute is a financial term.” He leaned forward in his seat. “You’ve received this file?”