“Thank you, Mr. Hilyard,” Moulton said. “Please contact us if you think of anything else. For now, I think we’ll speak with Mrs. Lovingston to see if she has any details to share.”

  “She’s told the police everything she knows. She’s starting to get irritated, I think.”

  “What about her husband? Did he know your wife well? Did the four of you frequently hang out together?”

  “No. Claire’s husband works out of town quite a bit. I did FaceTime him to make sure he was okay with me staying here. And anyway, it was mainly just Claire and Lauren. They had a weekly thing where they’d drink wine on the front porch, switching houses every week.”

  Claire stepped into the room slowly, apparently having put the baby she had been carrying down for a nap.

  “And we’d do the predictable things that women do. Talk about our husbands, reminisce about the past. I’d tell her about the highs and lows of having a baby. And, more recently, we’d talk about what she was going through with her daughter.”

  “What can you tell us about Lauren and what might have led someone to do such a thing to her?” Chloe asked.

  “Lauren made some decisions during high school that her parents did not particularly agree about,” Claire replied. “Once Lauren graduated high school and had her daughter…well, college was out of the picture.”

  “They were embarrassed,” Jerry added. “They got pissed and moved to New Hampshire. They feed our daughter these brutal lies about Lauren whenever they can.”

  “Trying to make up for the mistakes and neglect from raising Lauren,” Claire said. “A couple of real assholes.”

  Sensing the conversation headed to a bashing session, Chloe spoke up. “Mrs. Lovingston, would you happen to be able to think of any enemies or even strained relationships Lauren might have had?” Chloe asked.

  “Not outside of her family. And while they are a couple of jerks, they certainly wouldn’t do this. This is…this is deplorable.”

  Moulton reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a business card. He placed it on the coffee table and stepped back. “Please…if either of you think of anything else, please don’t hesitate to contact us.”

  Both Claire and Jerry gave only curt nods. The conversation had been brief but it had taken its toll on them. Chloe and Moulton made their exit in an awkward silence.

  When they were outside, heading for the car, Chloe paused for a moment on the sidewalk. She looked down the street, in the direction of the Hilyard house, and saw that it was just out of sight. Still, she was starting to agree with Moulton. Maybe it was a little too close. And if the bedroom still looked anything like what she had seen in the photographs Johnson had showed them, it seemed almost morbid that Jerry was staying so close.

  “Ready to go check out the house?” Chloe asked.

  “Not really,” Moulton said, the images he’d seen from that case file still clearly in his mind. “But I guess we’ve got to start somewhere.”

  They got back into the car and headed back the way they had come. Right away, Chloe kept telling herself that it couldn’t be as bad as it had appeared in the pictures—all of that crimson red among the crisp white sheets.

  ***

  It took all of twenty seconds to get to the Hilyard house. The fact that it closely resembled the Lovingston house—and most every other house on the block—was creepy as hell as far as Chloe was concerned. They entered through the front door with the code Jerry Hilyard had given them and stepped into an absolutely still and silent house.

  Knowing exactly why they were there, they wasted no time and went directly upstairs. The master bedroom was easy to find, the room all the way at the end of the hallway. Through the opened door, Chloe could already see streaks of red on the carpet and the sheets.

  She was relieved, however, to find that the scene truly didn’t look as bad as it had appeared in the pictures Director Johnson had showed them. First and foremost, the body had been removed. Secondly, the bloodstains had been sitting longer, making them paler in color.

  They walked to the bed, careful to step over any blood splashes left on the carpet. She could see areas in the blood splatter where the coroner and initial investigators had accidentally stepped in it. Chloe looked to the other side of the room, toward a dresser and where a small flat-screen TV was mounted to the wall. She was probably watching TV when it happened, maybe purging her head of high school reunion memories…

  Chloe then went downstairs and had a look around. She could see no signs of forced entry and no clear indications that anything had been stolen. She looked around the living room, the kitchen, and the guest bedroom. She evens stepped out on the back deck and had a look around. There was a small patio table in the corner. An ashtray sat in the center of it, under the shade umbrella.

  Chloe made a hmm sound as she saw the ashtray’s contents. There were no cigarette butts in the tray, but some other kind of ash and paper. She leaned down to it and took a light whiff. The scent of marijuana was unmistakable. She sorted through some things in her head, trying to figure out if this could be relevant in any way.

  Chloe jumped a bit when her phone rang. Moulton, stepping out onto the back porch to join her, caught her look of momentary shock and smiled. She rolled her eyes and answered the call, not recognizing the number.

  “This is Agent Fine,” she answered.

  “This is Claire Lovingston. I thought you might want to know that I just got a call from one of my friends, Tabby North. She was one of the close friends that Jerry was telling you about. She asked if anyone else from the police had come to speak with me. I told them the FBI had just visited and she’d like to speak with you.”

  “Does she have information for us?”

  “Honestly…I don’t know. Probably not. But this is a rather small community. I think they just want to get to the bottom of it. I’m sure you’ll find them incredibly helpful.”

  “Great. Text me her number after this call.”

  Chloe killed the call and filled Moulton in. “That was Claire. She said one of Lauren’s other friends called her to see if anything new had developed. She’d like to speak with us.”

  “Good. I won’t lie…I’m pretty much done here. That bedroom is giving me the creeps.”

  It was a good way to explain it. Chloe could still see the pictures in her head, so seeing the scene without the body was like looking into some old abandoned place she was not meant to see.

  Still, they went back to the bedroom and took some time to check the place over, looking in the bathroom, the walk-in closet, even under the bed. After finding nothing of interest, they left the house and, moments later, the Farmington Acres neighborhood. Chloe again thought that it was incredibly quaint—a perfect neighborhood to grow a family and shape a future.

  So long as you were okay knowing that, from time to time, there might be a murder to contend with.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Tabby North was a redhead who had the kind of body that Chloe assumed saw the gym at least four days a week; it was also a body that, in Chloe’s humble opinion, could use a few more meals. She was gorgeous in a very obvious way, but she looked as if a strong wind might blow her away.

  Chloe and Moulton met Tabby at her house and found that she had invited another close friend, a woman who apparently went to that very same gym with Tabby. This woman was Kaitlin St. John, who was crying when Chloe and Moulton showed up. They gathered together on Tabby’s screened-in back porch, where Tabby treated them to a pitcher of lavender lemonade. Chloe could not help the thoughts that blew through her head—of how pretentious it all seemed, these women quickly approaching forty, with their tiny waists and trendy health-nut drinks.

  These thoughts are certainly not why Johnson stated he thought you had a knack for these small neighborhood-based cases, she thought to herself.

  To be polite, she sipped from the lemonade. Despite her negative thoughts, it was actually delicious.

  “I assume you ladies have already spoken to the police?” Chloe asked.

  “Yes,” Tabby said. “And while I fully understand that they are doing their best, it was quite clear that they had no idea what they were doing.”

  “They’re spooked, too,” Kaitlin said.

  “Spooked by what?” Moulton asked.

  “By the idea that it might have some sort of political reasoning. I guess you know about Lauren’s dad being all buddy-buddy with the Secretary of Defense. I’m sure the local police would rather avoid a media circus if they can help it.”

  “So, is it politically connected?” Tabby asked.

  “It’s far too early to know for sure,” Chloe said. Already, she was getting an uncomfortable vibe from these two. She did not doubt their grief; it was apparent in their expressions and the fact that Kaitlin had been openly crying since they’d showed up. But she also had no real problem picturing these two sitting around—perhaps with Lauren Hilyard and Claire Lovingston—gossiping about everyone in town. She wondered how much of what they might discuss right here and now would end up hitting the Barnes Point grapevine.

  “Can you tell us when you last saw Lauren?” Moulton asked.

  “It was the night before she died,” Tabby said. “We all met up at our high school reunion.”

  “We practically had to drag Lauren to it,” Kaitlin said. “She always hated that kind of thing.”

  “Well, she hated that sort of thing after school was over,” Tabby corrected. “She always wanted to try to leave the high school years in the past.”

  “Did she seem any different that night?” Chloe asked.

  “Nothing that I noticed,” Tabby said.

  “Same here,” Kaitlin said. “I daresay she ended up having some fun later on in the night. Lauren…well, she was the heartthrob of our high school. All the guys wanted her and when Jerry Hilyard just happened to knock her up during senior year…man, it was like the place had exploded. She lost some of that allure, you know. But the way everyone treated her that night at the reunion…I think everyone forgot about that. And it was like she was the queen bee all over again. I think she needed that.”

  “Was there a big crowd?” Moulton asked.

  “Pretty big,” Tabby said. “This is sort of a strange part of town. Lots of people that went to our high school either graduated or ended up coming back this way after college. It’s not exactly a wealthy city, but this side of town is known for being the wealthy side, you know? Anyway, for a few moments, Lauren actually looked happy.”

  “We understand that Lauren was among those that graduated and stayed around,” Chloe said. “Were you all friends in high school?”

  “Yes. Hell…Lauren and Claire were friends from kindergarten.”

  “So would you say they were the closest out of the four of you?”

  “Probably,” Kaitlin said. “They’ve always been besties. We know they had their little private porch sessions. It’s sweet…but yeah, from time to time, I felt a little left out. How about you, Tab?”

  Tabby shrugged. “Not really. I always knew they were super close.”

  “Was there anyone at the reunion that maybe crossed Lauren the wrong way?” Moulton asked.

  “Not that I remember,” Tabby said.

  “Same here,” Kaitlin said. “But you know…you live in a place like this where a lot of the people you grew up with stick around for the long haul and things can get tense sometimes. It was obvious between some people at the reunion. But not with Lauren. I don’t think she really had many people that disliked her in high school. Jealous for sure…but not dislike.”

  “Did you maybe meet up with anyone else at the reunion that Lauren was friendly with in high school but sort of drifted away from afterwards?”

  “We did, actually,” Tabby said. “A woman named Brandie Scott. She lives in town, too. Just on the other side…so we never really see her. It was nice to reunite with her, though. I wouldn’t say we were all that friendly with her, just maybe talked to her a few times in school, but never hung out.”

  “Did she and Lauren hang out at the reunion?”

  “For a while. I actually specifically remember them laughing about something over by the bar. I remember because Lauren hadn’t really laughed a lot recently. I think she had something going on at home. Maybe with her stupid parents again.”

  “Would you happen to have Ms. Scott’s phone number?” Moulton asked.

  “I do,” Tabby said, taking out her phone and starting to scroll. “I actually got it from her the night of the reunion.”

  “What about ex-boyfriends?” Chloe asked as Tabby found the number. “Were there any of Lauren’s exes in attendance?”

  “No,” Kaitlin said, smiling for the first time during the conversation. “Lauren only ever dated one guy before Jerry. And the only reason they broke up was because he moved. To Alabama, I think.”

  “Well, I think that’s all we need for now,” Chloe said. She slid Tabby one of her business cards and said: “Please send Ms. Scott’s information to this number. And don’t hesitate to contact me if either of you think of anything else that may be helpful.”

  Tabby texted Brandie Scott’s number right away. She looked a little disappointed that the conversation was over. But, as Chloe had suspected from the start, a group of best friends that were caught up in memories of the friend they had just lost was not going to be the best source of information. If there was any dirt to uncover, she and Moulton were not going to find it here.

  She took one last sip from her lemonade and got to her feet. Both of the women escorted them back through the lovely house and through the front door. They both stood on the porch and watched as Chloe and Moulton left.

  “Initial thoughts?” Moulton asked.

  “I think they’re both very sad about the loss of their friend,” Chloe said. “But I also think that just about every word of the conversation we just had with them will be public knowledge in Barnes Point by the end of the day.”

  “I got that same feeling, too. And tell me…maybe it’s just me. Is there something sort of weird about these older women hanging out in the same city, in the same circles they were in during high school?”

  “I for one would never do it,” Chloe said. “But I don’t think it’s as uncommon as you might think. Especially in smaller towns.”

  Moulton started the car and pulled away from Tabby North’s house. “Want to check out this other sort-of friend?” he asked. “Brandie something-or-another?”

  “Already on it,” she said, saving the number Tabby had sent her to her contacts list. She then placed the call, already hoping that the woman on the other end would turn out to be at least somewhat different from the thin and almost cliché housewives she’d met so far today.

  ***

  As Tabby had said, Brandie Scott lived on the other side of Barnes Point. It was only a fifteen-minute drive between the houses, but Brandie Scott may as well have been living on the other side of the world. Where the carbon copy two-story homes in the expensive plots within Farmington Acres and surrounding areas painted a picture of wealth and well-to-do homeowners, the other side of town was quite different. There were mobile home parks and one-story homes that looked nearly abandoned, many with sings that either read FOR SALE or CONDEMNED on them. There were old shops that had been closed for quite some time. This side of town looked like something the better part of town had perhaps vomited up and tried to cover up hastily in its tracks.

  Brandie Scott had agreed to meet them at a little coffee shop on a street that showed some of the signs of neglect as the rest of the area but was still somehow alive and thriving. When Chloe and Moulton entered the place, all eyes were on them—which weren’t many, seeing as how it was 4:15 on a Thursday afternoon.

  A slightly overweight woman waved to them from the third table to the right. She did so as quickly and subtly as she could, as to not draw more attention to herself. Chloe and Moulton walked over to her and the woman visibly grew tense.

  “Brandie Scott?” Moulton asked.

  “That’s me,” she said. “Have a seat, I guess.”

  The agents did so and once they were seated, Brandie seemed to relax her posture just a bit. “I hate to be a nag,” she said, “but I don’t have much time. I had to ask for an hour off of work to come here to meet you.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Chloe said. “You work here in town?”

  “I do. I have two jobs, actually. I work nights as a janitor out at the hospital in Farmville. And I also squeeze in about twenty hours a week at Dollar General here in town…which is what I’m doing now.”

  “You sound like a busy lady,” Chloe said. “We’ll make it as quick as possible. We assume you know about what happened to Lauren Hilyard?”

  “Yeah, I heard. Tabby North told me two days ago.”

  “Since it happened, have you spoken to the police?”

  “No. They haven’t reached out.”

  “Well, as I told you on the phone, we just came from Tabby North’s house where we spoke with her and Kaitlin St. John. They mentioned that you and Lauren weren’t ever particularly close, but that you talked quite a bit at the high school reunion over the weekend.”

  “Yeah, we did. They’re right…Lauren and I were never really close. But unlike a lot of those women, Lauren at least made a point to try to be polite when she saw me.”

  “What do you mean by those women?” Moulton asked.

  “Women like Tabby North. Claire Lovingston and that whole bunch. Some of them think the rules of high school still apply—that they’re required to continue to oust the girls that weren’t popular in school.”

  “But you say Lauren wasn’t like that?” Chloe asked.

  “It depends on who you ask. If I’m being honest, she was one of those mean girls in high school, you know? She was never really mean to me but went out of her way to ignore me. I’d like to think that changed with her after high school…but I don’t know her well enough to be sure. The few times I ran into her, she seemed a little different…not quite as mean-spirited.”

 

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