hands on a napkin. “Are you thinking that Vera killed her own daughter, buried her, and took off?”
Josie munched on a French fry, thinking it over. Then she went to her computer and pulled up a copy of Vera’s driver’s license again. “Here it says Vera was five foot five. Dr. Feist believes whoever shot Beverly was at least six feet tall. Based on the bullet’s entry wound and both Beverly and Vera’s heights, it seems unlikely. But Vera has been off the radar for sixteen years now. So either she went into hiding—and if she did murder her own kid, that might have caused her to go into hiding—or whoever killed Beverly killed her as well. I’m leaning toward Vera also having been murdered, though.”
“Why’s that?” Gretchen asked.
“Because if she was in as bad physical shape as George Newton, Kelly, and Lana said she was, I can’t see her burying Beverly’s body under the basement.”
“Good point,” Noah said. “But she could have had help.”
“From who?” Gretchen said. “Vera didn’t have a boyfriend. It doesn’t even seem like she had any friends.”
“That we know of,” Josie pointed out. “We don’t know enough about Vera. We really need to track down some people who knew her.”
“We need to find out where she was working before she hurt her back. It had to be a local salon.”
Josie’s cell phone rang. When she looked at the number, her heart jumped into her throat. “It’s Alice,” she said, swiping answer. The room went silent, all eyes on her.
“Detective Quinn?” Alice said. “Is this you?”
“Yes, Alice. It’s me. I’m glad you called. We really need to talk.”
“Yes, we do.”
Josie looked at Gretchen and Noah who nodded at her to keep going. “I can meet with you somewhere private, but I need to bring a colleague with me. Surely, you understand that. It’s for everyone’s safety.”
“Who? Who would you bring?”
Josie thought about what Alice had said about the police station not being safe. She didn’t believe for an instant that anyone on her team was corrupt, but obviously Alice had concerns. They could discuss those when they met. “Detective Gretchen Palmer,” Josie said. “She came here a few years ago from Philadelphia.”
There was a long silence. Then Alice said, “Fine. Bring her. But only her. You understand?”
“Yes,” Josie said. “I understand. Where do you want to meet?”
“There’s a Stop-N-Go by the interstate. You know it?”
“Yeah, I know it,” Josie said. “Meet you in the parking lot? Half hour?”
“Not the parking lot,” Alice replied. “Behind the Stop-N-Go.”
“Behind the— Alice, there’s nothing back there but trees and grass. It just drops off to the interstate.”
“Then no one will see us,” she said. “No one will think to look for us there. Don’t tell anyone you’re going to meet me. Do you understand? No one. If I see anyone besides two of you—anyone at all—I’m leaving. You got it?”
“Yes,” Josie said. “I understand.”
“I’ll see you in a half hour,” Alice said and hung up.
Josie pocketed her phone and looked at Gretchen. “Let’s go.”
In the parking lot, reporters huddled beneath umbrellas, rushing at them, shouting more questions. Like broken records, Josie and Gretchen said, “No comment” a half dozen times until they got out of the fray. The rain had slowed marginally. With so many roads barricaded, it took twenty minutes to go only a few miles to the Stop-N-Go. The gas station/mini-market sat atop a small hill just off the exit ramp from Interstate 80. Josie chose a spot in the parking lot, and they walked slowly around the back of the building. The other patrons were running to and from their cars, rain hoods pulled low over their faces, hurrying to get out of the rain. No one noticed Josie and Gretchen. The rain beat a steady rhythm on their raincoats. Josie smelled the dumpster before it came into view. It was flush against the back wall of the building, its green paint chipped, and its black plastic lid propped open. There was just enough asphalt for the trash truck to get back there and collect the refuse from the dumpster. Beyond that, as Josie had pointed out to Alice, was roughly an acre and a half of grass dotted with trees. The land terminated in a drop-off that overlooked the ribbon of route 80 below.
Their boots made sucking sounds in the grass as they walked toward the trees. “I don’t see anyone,” Gretchen said quietly.
“Let’s wait,” Josie said. They found a spot beneath a large, leafy maple