I See You (Criminal Profiler #2)(70)
She ordered a large coffee and found a seat in the back corner so she had a good view of the front door. When the front doorbells jingled, she noticed a woman who shared many of Hadley Foster’s features. She was shorter and not as lean as her cousin, but the blue eyes and full lips were almost identical.
Nikki stood and crossed the room. “Rose?”
The woman was dressed in a dark suit and carried a leather briefcase. “Ms. McDonald.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t have a lot of time.”
“Understood. What kind of coffee do you like?”
Minutes later, they were sitting at a corner table, each stirring sweetener into their coffees.
“It was weird seeing Hadley’s face on the television,” Rose said.
“You weren’t any more shocked than I.” She sipped, knowing this fourth cup would send her heart rate into overdrive. “I was trying to find Marsha’s killer, but it blew up in this awful mess with her sister and her family.”
Rose tapped her manicured finger on the side of the cup. “I’m ashamed to say I’d almost forgotten about my cousin. It’s been so long. Why do you care?”
“It’s an unsolved mystery,” Nikki said. “It’s bad enough being murdered, but to be forgotten and have the guilty walk free is unforgivable.”
“I don’t see how I can help you,” Rose said. “I was Hadley’s cousin but had next to no contact with my uncle Larry, his wife, or the other kids.”
“The families didn’t get together at the holidays or birthdays?”
“No. Larry and Mom had a falling-out long before I came along. I never told Mom I hung out with Hadley, because I sensed she’d have been pissed.”
“What was Hadley like?”
“Like any other teenager. Selfish. Funny. Full of life.”
“What was she like with Mark?”
“I think she liked him well enough, but at the time, he served a purpose.”
“And what was that?”
“A ticket out of her house. Her father approved of him, and Larry didn’t like many of the guys she brought around. And his family had money. Hadley liked money.”
“Was there anyone who threatened Marsha? Was she afraid of anyone?”
“I think there were several guys who worked for Larry who weren’t the best. The asphalt business was damn hard work and attracted a bunch of roughnecks. Men who could work long hours in horrible heat. They weren’t choirboys.”
“Marsha and Hadley both worked in his office.”
“They did. Their father paid them less and worked them harder, seeing how they were the owner’s family. Marsha accepted it because she was getting a good education. Hadley really started to resent her father after he told her she wouldn’t be able to go off to college.”
“Was Hadley angry enough to kill her sister?”
Rose sat back, shaking her head. “I want to be fair to Hadley. My goal is not to trash her now that she can’t defend herself. I know how the media can be. But she could be really selfish and petty at times.”
“What about Mark? The cops think he might have stabbed Hadley. Could he have also killed Marsha?”
“Mark was always the nice guy. He wanted to protect Hadley. Besides, he was away at some kind of football camp when Marsha vanished.”
“I know Hadley was dating another guy the summer her daughter was conceived,” Nikki said.
“Yeah, Jason.” Rose sat back, eyeing Nikki. “You’re good at doing your homework.” She sipped her coffee, as if trying to figure out how much to tell, and then, with a small shrug, said, “Hadley was stepping out on Mark with Jason. It wasn’t a lot, just once or twice. I think she liked the idea he was edgy and dangerous. For a while, she had a tiger by the tail, and she liked it.”
“Can you spell Jason’s last name for me?” Nikki asked.
“Dalton: D-a-l-t-o-n.”
“Right, that’s what I thought,” she lied. “When Marsha went missing, Hadley said nothing to the police about Jason,” Nikki said.
“If she had, then Mark would have found out about Jason, and she didn’t want that to happen.” Rose tapped the side of her cup, hesitating about what she was going to say next. “Once, Marsha told me she kept a diary. She kept it hidden under the floorboard of her bedroom closet. Maybe you should go look? It might still be there.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Wednesday, August 14, Noon
Alexandria, Virginia
Twenty-Nine Hours after the 911 Call Zoe and Vaughan arrived at the medical examiner’s office, and within fifteen minutes, they were gowned up and standing in front of a stainless steel gurney with the draped remains of Hadley Prince Foster.
The room was thick with the scent of death and decay. Some cops liked to put Vicks on their upper lips to mask the smell, but Zoe had learned over the years that there was no escaping death. Keep breathing it for a few minutes, and the body’s olfactory system would adjust and block out the smell. The trick was not to get a big lungful up front and then fight it.
Baldwin adjusted his eye protection and mask as he moved to the head of the first table, where a sheet-clad body lay. He pulled back the sheet to reveal the pale, slim body of Hadley Foster. Ravaged by the August heat, rodents, and insects, her skin barely looked human. The eyes, hooded by drooping lids, were milky white. The jaw gaped open in an odd deathly expression of surprise.