Her Last Word(53)

“He had an alibi for the time of Gina’s attack?”

“Yes. His mother said he was at home with her, and she never wavered from that story. Usually I can crack a lie, but not hers. You’d be wise to talk to her again. I hear she’s not paying his legal bills this time, and his buddy Blackstone doesn’t come cheap.”

“Blackstone is working pro bono.”

“Maybe because Hayward’s unearthing a secret too many people want left undisturbed.”

“You think Blackstone is in on this?” Adler asked.

“Blackstone, Hayward, and Crowley were tight, so it’s very possible.” He rubbed his chin as he dropped his gaze to the cards.

“Did Kaitlin tell you she dated Hayward?”

“Not initially. Kaitlin’s connection to Hayward surfaced after his fencing arrest, and we placed him near Kaitlin and Gina the night of the attack. Hayward let it ‘slip’ he knew Kaitlin well. I confronted her, and she admitted they’d broken up over the summer.”

“Did Kaitlin say he might have been involved in the crime?” Adler asked.

“We conducted a lineup of suspects. She recognized Hayward, but she said she couldn’t be sure if he was our guy. Kaitlin asked each man, including Hayward, to speak a few words. She swore she didn’t recognize any of them.”

“Maybe she was too afraid or loyal.”

“Hayward is charismatic, but he can be mean as a snake. The podcast might just be a ruse to help an old boyfriend whom she still cares about.” North shrugged. “She wouldn’t be the first to help out a felon.”

“Do you think she was really involved?” Adler kept his tone in check.

“I know she was afraid of Hayward. After we hauled him in, she said Hayward started hanging around her aunt’s house. He never threatened her, but he let her know he was watching.”

“My partner is going through your old case files for me. He said there were abductions in the Richmond area similar to Gina’s attack? He said the details in the Mason case files were slim.”

“There were two. Both happened about two years before Gina vanished, several miles downriver. Both girls were raped, but neither could identify her attacker.”

“Was the rapist wearing a mask?” Adler asked.

“Pulled panty hose over his face. This attacker made both the girls shower after the attack, so we didn’t get DNA. Both also had long dark hair like Gina. I couldn’t link the cases, but it might be worth your time to talk to them again.”

“Any girls go missing?”

“Not a girl like Gina,” North said.

White. Affluent. Easily missed. “But there are all kinds of runaways, sex workers, and undocumented all along the I-95 corridor.”

“And when they go missing, few care,” North said.

“If Hayward killed Gina and didn’t leave a trail, it makes me think she wasn’t his first. He’d had practice covering his tracks.”

“The drugs have now taken their toll on him,” North said. “He was sloppy with the convenience store stabbing.”

“Let’s hope that trend continues.”

North leaned forward, holding Adler’s gaze. “Do me a favor and bury him.”

“I’ll do my best.”

The two shook hands, and Quinn’s number flashed on Adler’s display. Out in the hallway he answered, “Quinn.”

“I spoke to Ashley Ralston. She’s willing to see us now.”

“Good. Could you search rapes farther downriver during the two years before Gina vanished? Detective North remembers two.”

“Will do.”



Adler drove to the station and picked up Quinn, and together they traveled across town to a new trendy apartment complex near Rocketts Landing located east of downtown Richmond. Ashley Ralston lived in a third-floor apartment overlooking the James River.

Adler knocked on the door. Seconds later footsteps preceded the click of locks, and the door opened to Ashley Ralston. She wore no makeup, and the stress of her sister’s death was etched in lines around her mouth and red-rimmed eyes.

Adler and Quinn held up their badges. “Ms. Ralston.”

She recognized them both, and her frown deepened. “Come on in.”

She escorted them into a small living room furnished with a matching set of new furniture. A dozen moving boxes had been flattened and stacked in the corner, and several framed posters leaned against the plain antique-white walls. “I was just on the phone with the funeral home and the medical examiner’s office.” She ran a trembling hand over her hair. “I still can’t believe she’s gone. I never pictured myself having to do this.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Adler said. “Have you been able to schedule the funeral?”

“Sunday afternoon.”

He had made dozens of death notices during his ten years with the homicide department. It never got easier, nor did dealing with the grieving family’s desperate need for answers. “Looks like you just moved in.”

She shrugged. “A few weeks ago. It was supposed to be my new life after my divorce. Jennifer and I were supposed to take a trip to Paris this summer to celebrate.”

“You were close to your sister?” Adler asked.