Shattered (36 page)

"You know how many hours we've spent doing this?" Matt sounded exasperated. "We've gone over every inch of this property, practically. We've been coming out here for days. I've got so many bug bites, my bug bites have bug bites."

"It'll pay off," Ashley assured him. "Wait till you start putting on your college applications that you helped solve cold cases for the prosecutor's office."

"Hey, brainiac, guess what? Some of us don't care about that," Austin said. "I'm out here because it's better than being at home." He cast a dark look at Scott. "Or going to juvie hall."

"Or church with your grandparents," Sarah put in.

"You're out here because you like Sarah," Matt said to Austin.

Casting a self-conscious look at Sarah, who looked surprised, Austin reddened. "Well, you like Ashley."

It was Matt's turn to redden as Ashley's eyes shot to his.

"You absolutely did good." Lisa stepped into the breach before the discussion could deteriorate further. Scott might have his reasons for not applauding the search effort, but they'd worked hard, and she didn't see any point in raining on their parade now. "All of you should be proud."

If there had been any way to conceal what she was doing, she would have elbowed Scott in the ribs.

"Hell-o-o? If you're interested in the property, I'd be happy to show it to you. Who's there?" The hearty voice sounded closer now. Everybody flicked glances in its direction, but no one replied.

"You get any pictures of this before it was moved?" Scott asked Jantzen, indicating the medal.

She shook her head. "But I got some shots of the site after."

"That's something, at any rate." Scott's hand closed around the medal, and he slipped it into his pocket. The action surprised Lisa. She would have expected him to be calling for a tech unit, or at the very least wrapping the thing and transporting it with care until it could be handed over to the police lab. While she wondered, Scott's eyes swept the group. His expression softened. "Okay, I got to hand it to you: This is quite a find, and it wouldn't have happened without you guys. Good work, all of you." Everyone looked gratified, except maybe for Rinko, who was looking at Scott a little mistrustfully. Lisa didn't blame him. She had a feeling Rinko hadn't heard the end of the matter. Scott added in an affable tone that even Lisa couldn't hear anything amiss in, "Come on, let's go see what that guy out there is yelling about."

When they emerged from the woods it was to find a portly, balding man in maybe his mid-fifties standing on the house's small front stoop. He saw them immediately, waved, and started walking across the yard toward them.

When he was close enough he introduced himself as Jim Gage, the real estate agent for the property. On Sundays, he told them, he liked to drive around and check on his listings. He'd seen their vehicles, stopped, and was glad to answer any questions they might have about the house.

It had been empty for about a year. And no, he didn't know anything about a family who had lived there thirty years before that had gone missing. But he was also glad to show them the house, if they cared to see it, which they did. He took them in via the front door, then let them wander through on their own.

It didn't take long. The house was small, just three bedrooms, a single bath, the living room, and the kitchen. The decor didn't look like it had been updated much from the eighties, including brown shag carpet in the living room. Lisa found the atmosphere oppressive, and not just because there was no air-conditioning and it was stiflingly hot inside. Whether or not it was because she knew that this was the last place the Garcias had ever been known to be, Lisa thought she could sense enduring vibrations of distress. When whatever happened happened, the police had thought Angela was in the midst of giving Marisa a bath: That was the image that flashed into Lisa's mind as she stepped into the small, green-tiled bathroom. Bathtub, sink, and toilet were obviously original to the house. Looking at the tub, Lisa pictured it filled with water in which a child's toys floated, and had to turn away. She lingered longest in the kitchen. The fittings had been inexpensive to begin with, and over the years had been allowed to run down. The cabinets were plain varnished wood, and the only appliance that remained--because it was worthless, Lisa was sure--was an old Sears dishwasher. No refrigerator, no stove. The linoleum floor was in a red-brick pattern, and clearly far less than thirty years old, which meant it couldn't be harboring any of the blood that had been spilled on the night the Garcias had disappeared. In fact, the floor from that time had probably been pulled up to remove any traces of blood, and replaced many times since. From the windows over the sink, she saw, it would have been easy for anyone standing inside to observe her approaching the back door.

Scott, who had stayed with her like an extra appendage throughout, asked Gage who else had access to the house.

"Any real estate agent can call up and get a key. Then there's the owners. And I guess anyone who had a key--like the renters who used to live here--can still get back in. As far as I know, the locks haven't been changed."

"I already checked to see who had access to the house that day," Lisa told Scott when they were back in the car again, heading for Lexington. Rinko and the others were in the van ahead of them, with, she was amused to see, Jantzen driving. They were heading for Waffle House, where Lisa and Scott had respectfully declined to join them. "According to the secretary at the real estate company, no one was scheduled to be there. And both the owners and previous renters have moved out of state."

Scott settled more comfortably in his seat and folded his arms over his chest. He looked tired. She knew how he felt. Last night's lack of sleep was beginning to catch up to both of them.

"Efficient, aren't you?"

"Very." She shot him a censorious look. "By the way, did you have to ruin Rinko's day?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I heard you tell him to be in your office at nine a.m. tomorrow."

Scott smiled. "It won't hurt him to sweat it overnight."

"You're not going to fire him or anything, are you?"

He shook his head. "I'm just going to make sure he understands that when I tell him to leave a case alone, I mean it. Nothing for you to worry about."

"I thought that was pretty good work they did, actually, finding that medal like that."

"And then digging it up and passing it all around so that any evidence that might have remained on it after all these years was almost certainly lost." His voice was dry.

She threw him a troubled glance. "Why didn't you call a forensics unit out to the scene? Or at least try to preserve what evidence might have been left on the medal?"

He looked at her for a long moment without saying anything. The stretch of backcountry road they were on seemed extraordinarily dark all of a sudden, and she saw that thunderclouds were starting to pile up overhead.

"I didn't call for a forensics unit because I don't want to stir things up. That case has been off the official radar for a long time, and for now it's probably best that it stays that way. As for the medal, I plan to have it checked out privately."

Her chest suddenly felt tight. "You think there's a reason why I look like Angela Garcia, don't you?"

"There's always a reason for everything."

"Scott . . ."

"Baby, before we go any further with this, you need to ask yourself: Do you really want to know the truth? Because sometimes the truth can change everything. Sometimes it's better to just leave certain questions unanswered."

The uncomfortable feeling in her chest intensified. "Okay, spill. What do you know that I don't?"

He shrugged.

"Scott. Tell me."

"Michael Garcia broke into your parents' house in Maryland. He was arrested, but the charges were subsequently dropped. Just a couple of weeks later he and his family moved to Lexington."

Lisa drew a breath. "That's quite a coincidence."

"Yeah."

"You know Angela Garcia used to work at the hospital where I was born, right? Although the dates didn't overlap. She and her family were living in Lexington by then."

"I know all that."

"There's a connection there, isn't there? Something real. This isn't my overactive imagination."

"I'm pretty confident there's something there. Something that's big enough for somebody to set fire to Grayson Springs in an effort to conceal it. Something that made somebody go back to the Garcias' house for some reason, and when they saw you there, hit you over the head to prevent you from seeing them."

"Like what?" Lisa's mind raced over the possibilities. She had considered them so often and discarded so many that only a few remained. "I saw pictures of myself being born, so I clearly wasn't adopted. Maybe I'm a test-tube baby. Maybe Angela Garcia donated her eggs, or sold them, and my mother used one. Or maybe it was a whole embryo. Or maybe that's not it, and the Garcias are related to us in some other way I don't know about. Or maybe it's just the most amazing coincidence."

"The thing to keep in mind here is that the Garcia family disappeared. I've been checking into financial records, and as far as I can tell there was absolutely no financial activity by any of them after that night. They never contacted anybody, not employers, not friends, not family. Social Security has no record that the adults ever worked again. That leads me to conclude that they're probably dead. It may well be that their disappearance and probable death have nothing to do with the fact that you bear a striking resemblance to the females of the family. Nothing to do with you at all."

"But?" She heard the reservation in his voice. They had reached town by now, and there was traffic to contend with. Up ahead, the van pulled into the far left lane and then, with a farewell honk, turned. A few fat drops of rain splattered on the windshield, and from the look of the clouds, a downpour wasn't far behind.

"But it may be that it does. And if it does, whatever happened to them may well involve someone in your life."

Lisa let that sink in for a minute, then reacted with dawning horror. "Are you saying that you think someone in my life killed them? Who? And why?"

"I don't know. And I'm just saying that it's a possibility you need to consider. The thing is, whatever happened to the Garcias happened a long time ago. It's over. We can't help them, whatever we do. But if we keep digging, if we find out the truth and it's anything like where the facts are pointing right now, the person who I'm afraid is going to be hurt the most is you."

Lisa felt suddenly light-headed. "Are you saying you think I should back off?"

"I think you should definitely think about where we're going with this before we take it so far it's irretrievable. You have a good life, a secure and happy life, a career that's going to take you places. You have people you love, people who love you. You got to ask yourself, is digging up the past worth jeopardizing what you have? Or would it be better to simply leave things as they are and move on?"

Lisa's hands tightened on the wheel as Scott's words seeped into the furthest reaches of her mind and heart.

"You're a prosecutor, for God's sake," she burst out. "We may be talking about murder here. Multiple murders. Shouldn't you be grabbing this evidence we've uncovered and vowing to pursue the truth to the furthest reaches of the law, no matter what?"

"That would make it easier, wouldn't it?" The ghost of a smile just touched his lips. "Baby, one thing you can count on is that I have your best interests at heart. I'm not going to do anything that I think might ultimately be harmful to you."

"I appreciate that." Lisa took a deep, steadying breath. "You've been great through this, by the way. I don't think I could have gotten through it without you." She saw the Marriott sign up ahead, and pulled into the turning lane. "The thing is, though, I feel as if I owe it to them--the Garcias--to find out what happened. I don't think I'll ever feel at peace otherwise. I might wish I'd never seen that picture, and that file, but now that I have I can't just turn my back and walk away."

As she turned into the parking lot, she could feel him looking at her. His expression was a funny mix of tender, rueful, resigned. She was suddenly fiercely glad that he was in this with her, that whatever was uncovered, she would not have to face it alone. Scott was a rock that she could grab on to if she needed to, and the knowledge was beyond comforting.

"You want to go ahead and damn the torpedoes,
hmm
?"

She laughed, although the sound was a little shaky. "Yes. That's what I want."

"Fair enough. I've already sent for medical records from the early eighties for everybody involved: your parents, the Garcias, you. I'm hoping to get them early this week. I'm also having a background check run on everyone who was around when the Garcias disappeared, as well as on everyone who might even possibly have had access to the house on the night it burned. Age-enhanced pictures for all of the Garcias as they might look today are ready to go out on the BOLO network."

As she pulled in beside his Jeep and parked, he was still looking at her with an expression she couldn't decipher.

"What?" She shot him a quick frown.

"You probably want to have a DNA test done. Depending on what the results are, that could rule a lot of things out right there."

Or rule them in.
But she didn't say it.

"That was one of the first things I thought of, but--" She wet her lips. It was raining now, the drops coming fast and thick so that they sounded like a continuous drumroll as they hit the car. Steam rose from the pavement all around them. Even with the air conditioner going, the smell of rain was strong. "I can't tell my mother anything about what I'm doing, not the way she is, and I hate to do something as sneaky as grab a glass she's drunk out of and rush it off to the lab. Then there's Barty, who's a whole other problem, as you know. And . . . and . . . what if it does turn out that I'm not their biological child?" She swallowed. "I guess some part of me just doesn't really want to know after all."