thing, dragged himself off—
Ah hell, she was reaching for straws. Samuel Hayes was not their man. But then, who was he?
“Tell us about AnaRose Simmons,” D.D. began.
Hayes blinked, clearly startled. “You mean the little girl in Mrs. Davies’s house? Shit, I haven’t thought of her in years.”
“Keep in touch?”
“Nah.” He shook his head.
“Tell us about her anyway,” D.D. prodded.
Hayes blinked, seeming to have to search his memory banks. “Pretty girl,” he said at last. “Like in that way where other people stopped and stared. Made me feel bad for her. Being a foster kid is hard enough. Being a pretty child . . .” He shook his head. “Not a good thing. But she was tough, too. You had to be, to survive being a kid in the system.”
“Sounds like you were friends.”
“We had a relationship of sorts. Including the first night she arrived, she walked into my room and announced that if I tried to touch any of her private parts, she was gonna scream. Then she walked out, like she thought I should know.”
“She have reason to think that about you?” Phil asked.
“Hell no! I don’t go around molesting little girls. Mostly . . . it made me feel sad. ’Cause clearly someone had, you know, to make her feel she had to say such a thing.”
“You two were friends.”
Hayes shrugged. “I liked her. She was a good kid. I tried to look out for her. Being a black kid in a white Irish neighborhood of Southie wasn’t easy.”
“Who picked on her?”
“Anyone, everyone. She was a fish out of water, and she knew it. But she kept her head up walking. She didn’t socialize much, though. She came home, went to her room. Probably felt safest there.”
“What did she think of Shana?”
Hayes shook his head. “Never saw them interact.”
“Really? Only two girls in the house . . . ?”
“Shana led a fast life. She didn’t even hang out much. AnaRose . . . She was a good girl. Quiet. Smart. I think she took one look at Shana and saw everything she wasn’t going to do, in order to one day lead a better life.”
“When did you last see her?”
“Ah hell . . . I dunno. Since she moved out thirty years ago.”
“State moved her out,” D.D. prodded. “Sent her back to her addict mom, after Shana cast doubt on Mr. and Mrs. Davies’s ability to control their foster children.”
Hayes squirmed uncomfortably.
“You’ve never talked to AnaRose since?”
“How? I don’t know where she went. Not like foster kids run around with phone numbers attached to their chests or forwarding addresses. We’re all temporary. We know that.”
“Think she could be a killer?” Phil asked.
“What?”
“AnaRose. Had to be a tough life. From her perspective, Shana fucks up and she pays the price. Can’t blame her for hating Shana after that.”
“Hating Shana? Please, get in line.”
“Really?” Phil switched gears. “Tell us about Shana.”
“Come on, man. This was all thirty years ago. I barely even remember those days.”
“You two were an item?”
“Says who?”
“For one, your foster mom.”
Hayes flushed, ducking his head. “Oh yeah, I remember now.”
“Nothing like guilt to make it all come rushing back,” Phil assured him.
“Okay. So. Shana came on to me. Totally initiated things. We had sex a couple of times, say a half dozen. But then Mrs. Davies ordered us to cool it. Shana might not have cared, but I did. Mrs. Davies was—she still is—the closest thing to a mom I’ve ever had. She accused me of disrespecting her and Mr. Davies. And that hurt, you know? So I cooled it. Not like Shana cared. She just wanted sex. If I wasn’t available, then she moved on.”
“And how did that feel?” D.D. asked.
Hayes took a moment to compose his reply. “When you’re a seventeen-year-old boy, to find out just how easily you can be replaced . . . That’s not the best feeling in the world. But it was classic Shana. She wasn’t interested in your feelings. Only her own. I might have been a kid, but I wasn’t totally stupid.”
“Did she show up in your bedroom again?” Phil asked.
“Couple of times. I continued to tell her no. She finally got the message.”
“Very noble of you.”
Hayes shook his head. “It wasn’t like that. Shana never claimed to have feelings for me or vice versa. I was merely convenient for her. That’s all.”
“Oh yeah?” Phil drawled. “At which point did she gift you with items from her father, Harry Day?”
Hayes stilled. Then, “Ah fuck.”
“We saw the note listed on