40. Ryder

40

"No, not Janice. Candice. Candice Hebert."

Lorelle Harman peered at Ryder over half-moon glasses, and her heavily lined face creased even more.

"Candice? You mean Candy?"

He pointed at the ramshackle and now-abandoned three-level home across the street. "She lived right there in the basement apartment."

"She died. Been gone for years now. And right after she went, Molly Crocker passed too, and Molly's daughter just let the house go to ruin. Moved to the city, did Deanna, and she only came back one day for the funeral."

They'd arrived in Alexandria late last night, too late to start banging on people's doors if they wanted them to cooperate rather than call the cops. So they'd grabbed a few hours' sleep and started early, dividing the list among the three of them. Yes, the three of them. When the plane was somewhere over Nebraska, Jezebel had called with a new lead—a name for Hebert's ex. The only problem? She'd left Vegas for Montana, and she wasn't answering the phone.

Emmy had grumbled like hell, but she'd dropped Ryder, Dan, and Knox in Minnesota and headed for Big Sky Country with Slater.

Which left Ryder with a third of the names on the list to speak with, a task that might take a while if they all rambled for as long as Lorelle Harman did. She was a late riser too. He'd knocked on the door at ten past seven and again at half past eight, but it wasn't until nearly ten o'clock that he heard the telltale shuffle-shuffle-clomp of her approaching with her walker.

In the interim, he'd talked with nineteen of Candice Hebert's former neighbours—most of them women, since Dan was taking the men—and been offered three phone numbers but little useful information. People remembered seeing Candice around, but nobody really spoke to her. Knox wasn't having much more luck with her former colleagues at the grocery store. Candice had kept herself to herself, although they all said how proud she was of her son being in the Army. Nobody mentioned his discharge. Had Hebert even told his mother he no longer served?

"I know Ms. Hebert died, but it's actually her son I'm looking for." Dan had briefed them on the plane. Don't be afraid to lie, she said. Time was of the essence. Get the information by whatever means necessary. "We served together at Fort Irwin, but we lost touch in recent years. Anyhow…" Ryder crossed his fingers. "I'm getting married, and it would mean the world if I could invite him to the wedding." It was only half a lie. Ryder absolutely intended to marry Luna someday. "I flew in to meet a client in Minneapolis, and that was when I realised how close I was to his hometown. I just wondered if anyone might have a current address for him?"

"Married? Well, congratulations to you and the lucky lady."

"Thanks, she's one in a million."

"I'm afraid I don't know where Anton is, though. The last time I saw him was at his momma's funeral, and he didn't stay in town much longer than Deanna Crocker. Just packed up Candy's belongings and sent everything to Goodwill. Almost everything. He kept the photos and her jewellery and let me take some little mementos. He was always a kind boy, but his momma…she was troubled."

"Troubled?"

"He didn't tell you?"

"Anton was never very talkative when it came to the past, or when it came to his family."

"I guess I can understand that. Candy didn't make his life easy."

"Oh?"

"She hopped from one no-good boyfriend to another. I shouldn't speak ill of the dead, but she would've been better off on her own."

"Bad judgment?"

"Yes, but that was most likely because of all the drinking."

Candice was an alcoholic? "Anton never mentioned that."

"It's not the kind of thing you talk about, is it?" Except Lorelle seemed to be happy enough gossiping. "Although the drinking really wasn't Candy's fault. She didn't have health insurance, and alcohol was cheaper than medication."

"She was on disability, wasn't she?"

"Arthritis is a terrible disease, especially in someone so young. She was only nineteen when Anton arrived. Not much more than a child herself. She used to live over near my friend Susan, and I remember the day she brought him home from the hospital. A new baby should bring such joy, but Candy was crying when she carried him into the house. We all tried to help, of course—found her a crib, a stroller, baby clothes, that sort of thing—but she just wasn't very maternal. That's probably why she sent Anton to live with his aunt for so many years."

Aunt? What aunt? Nothing in the research had suggested Candice Hebert had a sister.

"Maybe his aunt would have a current address? I don't suppose she lives around here?"

"Now, that I don't know. I can't even recall her name. She was down in Elk River. Candy moved there for a while—six months, a year? She slunk back here with her tail between her legs after her latest mistake went to jail." Lorelle glanced behind her as if somebody might be eavesdropping. "Murder," she whispered. "It was murder."

"Candy's boyfriend was a killer?"

"Clyde something-or-other. They called him the Saint Cloud Snatcher. Took his victims right off the street, so I heard. Candy always did have terrible judgment. Anyhow, Anton stayed behind in Elk River. It was the kindest thing she could have done for him—Candy struggled to look after herself, let alone a child, and she said he got a better education down there. Which I'm sure was true because Kayden Ronson was in his class here, and he was bad news, God rest his soul," she added as an afterthought. "Although I don't suppose there's much chance Kayden ended up with the big man."

"Kayden Ronson wasn't an upstanding citizen?"

"He was a bully, a dirty bully, but karma got him in the end. Don't tell his momma I said that—she didn't deserve a son like Kayden. No, it was his father, let the boy get away with everything."

"I doubt I'll run into Kayden's momma."

"Maybe you will. She works in a diner on Broadway Street, over near City Hall. Cycles there every morning. She used to drive, but it was global warming that killed Kayden, so now she looks down on anyone who owns one of those gas guzzlers. You'll want to hide your vehicle on the far side of the parking lot or she'll short-change you when it comes to your pie. I'd recommend the maple pecan or cinnamon apple."

Ryder glanced back at the cherry-red Hyundai he'd rented at the airport. It was actually a hybrid and surprisingly good on gas.

"How does a man die from global warming?"

A flash flood? A freak tornado? Bad sunburn?

"Nobody ever saw a timber rattlesnake this far north before. Crawled right into the house through the cat flap. Marla Danes told me hotter temperatures made them change their territory, and she should know because her son's a police officer and they got one of them hematologists in to help with the case."

Presumably she meant a herpetologist, but the rest of the words sent Ryder's mind into a tailspin. The similarity between the deaths of Kayden Ronson and Julius Whitlow was too much to be a coincidence. Had Hebert taken inspiration from Kayden's demise? Or had he used it as a trial run?

And this aunt… Had he seen her as a mother figure? Was she the woman whose funeral he'd attended a year ago?

"The death of anyone before their time is a tragedy. If I leave my number, would you call me if you remember the name of Anton's aunt?"

"I sure will, hun." Lorelle patted Ryder on the cheek. "If only I were twenty years younger."

Ryder forced a smile. He had a partial lead, but they weren't getting information fast enough. Back in Vegas, he'd overheard Tulsa talking to Dice about kidnapping statistics, and with every second that passed, the chances of getting Luna back grew slimmer. At least Emmy was staying positive. She thought Luna was still alive.

"Thank you for your time, Lorelle."