Chapter 14

LEAVENWORTH, KANSAS

Investigation tip: Want to know someone’s secrets from when they were young? Talk to their high-school friends. Interviewing Alison Lane’s friends is probably beyond Poppy’s authority since she’s been officially assigned only to weed out crank tips, but she can’t take any more fool’s errands today. And, besides, the sheriff made her the KBI’s point of contact, so she’s simply following up on the note KBI found in Alison’s handbag. If she can find the book Alison used for that weird code, it might yield a genuine lead.

One thing seems certain, at least to Poppy: Alison was concerned for her well-being, and it damn well wasn’t the Missouri River Killer who had her spooked. The media hadn’t picked up on MRK’s spree until after Alison disappeared. So what was she afraid of? Who was she afraid of? It had to be someone closer to home.

Poppy texted her brother for the names of Alison Lane’s friends. Dash texted back three: Ruby Quinn, Juliette Bishop, and Chrissy Roberts. Once she saw the names, Poppy immediately remembered the trio. Three spritely cheerleaders. Popular seniors who didn’t give an underclassman like Poppy the time of day. When she asked Dash if he had their contact information, her brother said no but directed her to another key investigative tool: social media.

But it turns out Poppy doesn’t have to electronically stalk the women. Ruby Quinn’s phone number is in the investigation file. There are no interview notes, but Poppy’s predecessor Buckman must’ve spoken to Ruby shortly after the abduction. It’s been five years and Ruby has probably moved out of her parents’ house, but they’ll have her current number.

“Hello,” a gravelly female voice answers.

“Hi, this is Deputy Sheriff McGee with the sheriff’s office. I’m trying to reach Ruby Quinn.…”

There’s a tiny pulse of silence. That’s normal when you get a cold call from a cop. “You just missed her. This is her mother. Can I take a message?” Ruby’s mom’s voice sounds like an ashtray.

“I can call back,” Poppy says, surprised Ruby still lives at home. But who’s Poppy to judge, given that she woke up this morning to Beyoncé staring down at her?

“This is in regards to…?” Curiosity, or perhaps concern, fills the woman’s voice now.

“I’m calling about the Alison Lane case.”

There’s a loud breath into the receiver. “Ruby thought you might be calling, what with them finding the car. What is that about? Do you all think MRK had accomplices?”

It’s a reasonable question. Ruby’s mother has kept up on the case, which isn’t surprising. Poppy remembers the fear that hung over the community like a fog after Alison’s abduction. It had to be even more acute for Alison’s friends. But by Poppy’s own senior year in high school, Alison Lane was largely forgotten. Two years is an eternity to teenagers.

“If you can have Ruby call me when she gets home, I’d appreciate it.”

“Oh sure. She and Juliette and Chrissy just went to some yoga class.”

Of course they did.

“Her friends are all in town for their reunion. I’m watching the baby while Ruby’s at the class.”

Now that’s unexpected. A baby. Dash mentioned the five-year get-together last night. The reunion could prove extremely helpful: more classmates for Poppy to interview. Poppy wonders for a moment about the timing. Them finding the car the same week Alison’s graduating class is getting together.

“Do you know the name of the yoga studio? Maybe I can stop in and talk to Ruby and her friends.”

“Hmm, I don’t remember it. But they said the class is outside. At the park.”

“Landing Park?”

“Uh-huh. It’s ninety degrees out. I said they were crazy.”

Poppy checks the clock in her office. Maybe she can make it before the class ends. She thanks Ruby’s mother and rushes out.

Fifteen minutes later, Poppy’s at Landing Park. She knows the place well. Her dad used to take Poppy and Dash there on weekends to give her mom a break. And in high school it was a popular place to party. Kids would hop the fence that lines the Missouri River and drink cheap beer on the riverbank. The water’s an ugly shade of green today. Trees that have seen better days punctuate the grassland near the bank.

Poppy spies a group in the center of the park doing yoga poses. The class must be advanced, because the students move fluidly. As she walks closer, though, she notices one woman who stands out. When the class warrior-poses to the left, she goes right. When they do upward-facing dog, she’s still in downward-facing dog.

Poppy took a class once herself and was almost equally uncoordinated—almost—so she holds back a smile. But it is kind of comical.

She waits on the fringes for the class to end. At last, the instructor appears to call it a day, demonstrates final stretches. The uncoordinated woman—she’s the only one not dressed to the nines in Lululemon—is drenched in sweat. It’s then that Poppy gets a closer look at her face. It’s Ruby Quinn. Ruby’s heavier than she remembers.

Poppy retrieves her badge from her handbag. She still hasn’t gotten used to the monstrous thing, which looks like something a pro wrestler would hold over his head.

“Ms. Quinn,” Poppy says approaching the woman as the class disperses.

Ruby gives Poppy a confused look, like she might have misheard. As Poppy gets closer two women from the class walk over to Ruby. Unlike new-mother Ruby, Juliette and Chrissy haven’t changed much since high school—still long necked, high cheek-boned, and glistening, even after yoga in the hot sun.

The three eye Poppy, who feels sweat slide down her side. She hopes it doesn’t bleed through her ugly uniform. As they stare, it’s like they simultaneously understand why a deputy sheriff is showing up to speak to them.

“Can I help you?” Ruby Quinn asks. Her oversized T-shirt is discolored by a ring of perspiration at the neck.

“I’m Deputy Sheriff McGee. I wondered if you—all of you—have a moment to talk about the Alison Lane case?”

“Sure.”

Before Poppy says anything, Juliette says, “McGee… You’re not Dash’s little sister, are you?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re, like, the sheriff now?” Juliette asks, smiling. It’s a patronizing smile.

“Deputy sheriff.” Poppy doesn’t add that it’s the lowest rank on the force.

“We heard there were bodies in the car they pulled from the lake. Is that true?” Juliette asks.

Poppy’s old boss told her you never interview people in a group. They act differently. Their stories tend to morph together. But there’s probably no harm here.

Poppy says, “In light of the vehicle being discovered, we just need to follow up on a few things.”

“Do they think MRK had accomplices?” Juliette asks.

Chrissy adds, “Or are they wrong about him doing it? He confessed to killing the others, but always denied killing Ali.”

Maybe Poppy should separate them; Ruby might never get a word in edgewise.

Time to take control. This isn’t high school anymore.

“How can we help you?” Ruby asks again, sensing Poppy could use an assist. She seems slightly embarrassed by her friends.

“I know you’ve been interviewed before. Although Benedict Cromwell remains the official suspect, since he was killed, there’re still a lot of questions. We’re awaiting DNA tests for the two men found in the car. We think they were in their late twenties or early thirties. Can you think of anyone Alison knew who fits that description?”

Now they shake their heads in unison.

“It’s a tough thing to ask,” Poppy says, “but was she into drugs?” Poppy has racked her brain trying to think of why a teenager might associate with older men, assuming Alison knew the men at all. “I’m not judging.”

All three woman shake their heads again.

“She hated drugs,” Juliette says. “She barely drank. And you remember high school—that was rare. Not much else to do in this town.”

“Another hard question, but I hope you can be honest with me? Did Ali have any secrets? Something you may not have felt comfortable telling the police back then?”

“Secrets?”

“We all have them,” Poppy says. For instance, these women probably don’t know Poppy was thrown out of the military.

“No,” Juliette says, again taking the lead. Still the Queen Bee. “Ali was a Girl Scout.”

“No bad habits?”

More headshakes.

“Anyone she had trouble with? Anyone she might be afraid of?” Poppy’s mind goes to the note: If something happens to me.

“Not that I know of,” Juliette says. “Have you spoken to Ryan? They were inseparable back then.” She says this with a tinge of annoyance. Like she didn’t appreciate being in competition with anyone for attention.

“I’m having a hard time locating him. Have any of you kept in touch?”

They shake their heads. “People weren’t exactly kind to him,” Ruby says, finally speaking up. She gives Juliette the side-eye.

Picking up on it, Juliette says, “Everybody thought Ryan did it, before they caught MRK.”

“Some people still do,” Chrissy adds.

“Yeah?”

“You know how people are,” Ruby says.

“Do you all still live in Leavenworth?”

“Ew, no,” Juliette says. She hesitates, looks at Ruby, and adds, “You know what I mean. You had to stay since your mom’s here for the baby.”

Ruby’s face reddens, though it’s hard to tell if it’s from anger, embarrassment, or simply the heat.

“You’re back for the reunion?” Poppy asks Juliette.

“If you want to call it that. More like beers at Little Bar. But yeah, the five-year.”

“Other than you three, was Alison close with anyone?”

“Other than Ryan?” Juliette asks.

“Yeah.”

They all think about this.

“No,” Juliette says. “And to be totally honest about it, she wasn’t even that close with us.”

“Juliette,” Chrissy says, with a scolding edge.

“What? It’s true. She didn’t have time for us. Ryan was her world. She spent most of her time with him and she didn’t use social media, so it was hard to stay connected.”

“I noticed she didn’t use social. Why was that?” Poppy asks.

Juliette shrugs. “She said it was fake and just makes you sad.”

Ali was onto something, Poppy thinks, but doesn’t say so.

“Do you have any photos of Ali? I’m having a hard time finding any other than the one from the viral video.”

They all shake their heads. “Ali was, like, phobic about having her picture taken,” Juliette says. “Like she had body dysmorphia or whatever they call it. We all went to prom as a group and she wouldn’t even do group pics with us.”

“Do you know if Ali had a favorite book or a piece of writing that meant something to her?” This is the question Poppy’s been holding back. She’s learned that it’s best during an interview not to go in too hot. Build some rapport, get a feel for the interviewee, then drill down on what you really care about at the end.

The three shake their heads.

Disappointed, Poppy presses on: “If you were me, is there anything you’d want to know about Ali that you’ve never told the police? I know it’s hard, but it’s important.”

They all shake their heads again. It reminds Poppy of a tennis match, heads going back and forth in tandem. But this time she notices a slight hesitation in Ruby.

“You should come tonight,” Juliette says.

“Come where?” Poppy says.

“To Little Bar.”

“At least tell your brother to stop by,” Juliette adds with a wink.

“I think he’s planning on it,” Poppy says. “Thanks for your help. If you think of anything else, I hope you’ll reach out.” She hands each of them one of her new business cards.

Juliette examines it with an amused look on her face, then she and Chrissy give cheek kisses to Ruby. “See you tonight,” Juliette says. “Bring your A game, Ruby. Shots like the old days.”

Ruby doesn’t reply as her friends saunter off. She again looks embarrassed.

Poppy walks with her to the parking lot. It’s a silent walk, and Poppy doesn’t try to fill the void. She senses that Ruby wants to tell her something. So she waits.

When they reach Ruby’s car—a Nissan with a car seat in back—Poppy finally says, “Congratulations on the baby.”

“Thanks.”

“It was nice seeing you,” Poppy says, waiting one last beat, just in case.

“You asked if Ali had any secrets?” Ruby says.

Bingo.Poppy nods for her to continue.

Ruby opens the car door, gets inside, and looks up at Poppy from the driver’s seat.

“Ask your brother.”

Poppy feels a quake in her chest at that.

“What do you mean?”

“Look, I already gave my statement to your office. It’s all I know. I need to get home.”

Before Poppy can reply, Ruby has slammed the car door and peeled out of the parking lot.