“Can I get you some coffee?” the woman asked.
“None for me,” he said.
Taking a cue from Chief Cook, Jessie shook her head and said, “No thanks.”
“Please, sit.” Mrs. Tanner took a seat and folded the washrag on her lap, something to do with her hands. “How can I help you?”
The chief sat in a wingback chair, and Jessie took a spot on the sofa.
“Like I said on the phone, I’m lookin’ into the Angela DeSalvo murder case,” he began.
“I don’t know. That’s been so long ago. I thought I read somewhere that you’d closed that case, Tobias.”
“That case never went to court. And murder cases stay open until they do. You remember how that works, right?”
“Terrible thing.” The woman shook her head. “I had nightmares over that for such a long time.”
“I can understand that.”
“So why are you here . . . talking to me, Tobias?”
“I hate to admit this, but we’re missing some paperwork on the case. Everyone whose property was adjacent to the DeSalvo house got interviewed, except for you. And I’ve come to rectify that.”
“But I did talk to someone. One of your men, I think.” She wrung the cloth in her hand. “Maybe that old paperwork will show up. Maybe it was misfiled, is all.”
“I understand what you’re saying, Sophia, but while we’re here, I’d like to ask you a few question. Will that be all right?” Without waiting for her reply, he continued as he opened a notepad, “What can you tell me about the night Angela DeSalvo was murdered? Did you see any strangers or hear anything out of the ordinary?”
Sophia Tanner told Chief Cook all she remembered. The more she talked about Angela De Salvo, the more her fingers worked the washrag she still held in her hands. And she avoided eye contact as she spoke. She was uptight about something more than recalling the murder of a neighbor.
While the police chief made a note, Jessie had a question of her own.
“How well did you know Angela?” she asked.
Chief Cook gave her a sideways glance, and, under his breath, he said, “So much for not saying a word.”
When Jessie saw him raise an eyebrow, she ignored him and turned her full attention on Mrs. Tanner.
“I knew her as well as anyone would know a neighbor, I suppose. We didn’t socialize, if that’s what you mean. We talked on occasion, as neighbors. That’s all.”
“Do you remember seeing any children at the DeSalvo home?” From the corner of her eye, Jessie saw Chief Cook shift in his seat, and she heard his sigh, but that didn’t stop her. “Maybe she had kids at her place that week prior to the murder.”
“Tobias, what is she talking about? Kids? You never said anything about wanting to talk about children.”
Sophia Tanner’s eyes watered, and she looked confused. If Chief Cook had been doing his job, he might have attempted to calm her down, so he could continue his questioning, but that’s not what he did.
“I think I’ve got everything I need.” He stood and reached for Jessie’s arm, heading her for the door. “Thanks for your cooperation, Sophia. If you think of anything else, give me a call.”
“I will. I promise.” The woman forced a smile. “Have a good day, both of you.”
When they got outside, out of Mrs. Tanner’s earshot, Jessie had plenty to say.
“You call that an interview? You clearly don’t watch Castle, to see how it’s done.”
“And you clearly make promises you have no intention of keeping. I think we’re done here. Have a good day, Ms. Beckett. And if I hear that you’ve come back here to harass this poor woman, I’ll arrest you. Is that clear?”
The man was done talking. He got in his squad car and waited for her to get in her rental. Any hope she had for his cooperation had dried up, and she had no idea why. She’d hit a wall that she had never seen coming.
Now she’d have to scramble, and she had a good idea where to start.
La Pointe, Wisconsin
Twenty minutes later
If Chief Cook wouldn’t give her any more information on the murder of Angela DeSalvo, Jessie knew how to dig up stuff on her own. And a good source for a story nearly decades old was the town library and the newspaper archives.
She took a corner of the archives and worked over the digital images of old newspapers until she was bleary-eyed. With only the occasional bathroom break and a raid on the snack machine, where she finished off the Cheetos and KitKat bars, she searched the digital records, looking for anything pertaining to the murder of Angela DeSalvo. And seeing the newspaper evolve over time gave her insight into the community and people of La Pointe.
TV detectives always had miraculous databases to help them solve cases in a make-believe world where DNA results could be done in minutes, and the killer always confessed in the last five minutes of the show. In real life, it didn’t work that way. Most cases involved “beating feet” on pavement and tedious grunt work that could be butt numbing.
When she’d located a string of articles that encompassed months after the murder, Jessie made copies of the best ones with the most details. Since this was a small town, the newspaper took liberties with its reporting. It deviated from the typical sparse style of journalistic writing and sometimes focused on the more emotional aspects of the story.
She scanned the pages and didn’t see anything that she hadn’t expected, but she’d go over the articles later when she had more time to read.
When the last article had printed, Jessie sorted through her pile and placed the most important pages on top. Once she got back to her motel room, she wanted to read them first. And considering the stack of paper, it would be a long night.
She headed out of the library with her gold mine of old articles on the DeSalvo killing rolled up in her hand. When she got outside, it was the first time she realized that she’d spent almost the whole day ratholed in the archives. But after she filled her lungs with cool dusk air and caught glimpses of the sunset glittering on the churning waters of Lake Superior, she got a second wind. And her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten much all day.
She followed the main drag, walking toward the water. From what she remembered of her ferry trip, the harbor area had some inviting restaurants near the shore. That made her belly rumble, but as she turned down a side street, she caught a glimpse of movement in the waning sunlight. A shadow had moved behind her.
La Pointe was small, a tourist town. Why she flinched at the sight of someone behind her, she didn’t know. Maybe her wariness had been a by-product of digging into the DeSalvo murder all afternoon. And being in the very town where it had all happened had caused her jumpiness.
The way Jessie figured it, it didn’t hurt to be careful. When she picked up her pace, she paid closer attention to the sounds coming from behind her and kept a watchful eye on any suspicious movement. Under her windbreaker, she carried her Colt Python. And with the adrenaline coursing through her veins, she felt the weight of her weapon as she ducked around another corner. If someone was following her, she’d have precious seconds to expand the gap between them and look for a place to confront the bastard.
Jessie had no intention of losing him, not when she wanted to look the son of a bitch square in the eye.
Chapter 10
La Pointe, Wisconsin
Jessie spotted a darkened alleyway ahead. The sun was low enough on the horizon to leave shadows in its wake. The alley separated two storefronts. One place was still open, a small gift shop. And the other had lights out and was closed for business. Before the guy who was tailing her rounded the corner, she darted into the alley and shoved her back against a brick wall.