32

32

BALLARD MADE MASSER drive the initial leg back to L.A. so she could get first crack at the yearbook. It was thin with a thick leather binding. Angled across the cover it said Veritas 1999 .

" Veritas, " Ballard said.

"‘The truth,'" Masser said.

"You know your Latin."

"I'm a Jesuit boy. They made us take Latin. Came in handy a few times in law school. Ipse dixit and all of that."

" Ipse dixit ? What is that?"

"It means ‘He said it himself.' It's an argument that states that if someone of authority said it, it can be held to be true. It goes back to Cicero and the Roman Empire."

"And they still use it in the courtroom?"

"Sometimes. Mostly in rulings by the judge."

"What about Mortui vivos docent ?"

"That one I'm not familiar with."

"‘The dead teach the living.' It's the motto of the California Homicide Investigators Association."

"I get it. Good one."

"I only know it because it's on the challenge coin."

Ballard started paging through the yearbook. The inside covers had no autographs or messages written to Mallory Richardson by other students. Ballard assumed that was because the yearbook had been published after she left school and Pasadena. It was probably sent to her at Smoke Tree and she never had an opportunity to have other students sign it.

Ballard leafed through sections dedicated to sports and class field trips. When she got to the section dedicated to the seniors, she looked at the photos of the boys; two were named Rodney.

"We have a Rodney McNamara and a Rodney Van Ness in the senior class," she said.

"I wonder if they're still around," Masser said.

"We'll find out when I get to my computer. There's a total of twenty-nine boys in the senior class. We'll run them all and see what comes up."

"What's your take on the suicide?"

Ballard was looking out the window at a wind farm they were passing.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, it feels like a contradiction," Masser said. "What was she depressed about? Was it having to give up the baby? Was she raped and still experiencing trauma? But if that was the case, why didn't she tell anyone, especially her parents? It was like she was protecting the father of the child, but at the same time she goes into a spiral that leads to suicide. You see what I'm saying?"

"I do, but there's no accounting for why people do what they do. And people respond to being raped in all kinds of ways. If she was raped, that is. We need to find out more, and hopefully one of these Rodneys will help."

Ballard turned the pages until she reached the tenth-grade photos. She located Mallory Richardson. It was a flattering photo and Ballard understood why her mother liked it. The girl had blond hair that hung down to her shoulders and curved in at the neck, framing her face in a stylish oval. Ballard thought about the friends Robin Richardson had named when she gave them the yearbook.

"Her girlfriends were Jacqueline Todd and… was it Emma?" she asked.

"Emma Arciniega," Masser said. "But Robin said there was no contact after they moved out to the desert. It was before social media. Nowadays people stay in touch forever. My daughter's twenty-seven and she's still in touch with kids she knew from kindergarten."

Ballard flipped through the pages to look for the friends' photos. Jacqueline Todd was one of the few Black students in Mallory's class and Emma Arciniega was one of the few Latinas.

"A white girl from Pasadena has Black and brown BFFs," Ballard said.

"Interesting," Masser said. "Think they know anything that will help us?"

"Who knows? But sometimes the besties know more than the parents."

Ballard closed the book. The conversation made her think about her mother. She needed to call Dan Farley in Maui to get an update on the ongoing search. She decided she would do it once they got back to L.A. and she could make the call in private.

"You thinking about your mother?" Masser asked.

"Jeez, don't go all Colleen on me, Masser," Ballard said. "How did you guess that?"

"That look on your face. Wistful, I'd call it. I've seen it before."

"You should keep your eyes on the road."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And don't call me ma'am."

"Yes, ma'am."

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed. She didn't recognize the number but took the call.

"Detective, it's Robin Richardson. You were just in my home and left your business card."

"Yes, Mrs. Richardson, is something wrong?"

"Uh, no. It's just that I remembered Rodney's last name. Rodney Van Ness."

"Thank you, that's very helpful."

"Will you let me know what you find out? I really need to know."

"Of course I will. Thank you for calling."

Ballard disconnected and told Masser that the prom date was Rodney Van Ness. She opened the yearbook again and flipped the pages until she was looking at his photo.

"You think it's him?" Masser asked.

"Maybe. That would be too easy," Ballard said. "And so far nothing about this case has been easy."