Clutching the mess of napkins to her chest, Josie moved on. The announcer came on, welcoming everyone and asking them to stand for the national anthem. Before she turned toward the third base line, someone stumbled from behind the ladies’ room building and directly into her path.
“Hey,” Josie said. “Watch out.”
Beverly Urban stood in front of her, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Her thick curls were mussed.
“Shit,” Josie said.
But no sneer slid across Beverly’s face. No cutting words came from her mouth. She simply stared at Josie, as though she were looking through her. The first strains of the national anthem played over the speaker system. Pink splotches covered Beverly’s neck. In one hand, she clutched something. A piece of white fabric. Without thinking, Josie said, “You okay?”
As if snapping out of a daze, Beverly’s eyes narrowed. She stuffed her fist into her skirt pocket. “Get away from me,” she snarled.
With a roll of her eyes, Josie took a wide step around her. “My pleasure,” she said without looking back.
Nineteen
The address they had for Lana Rosetti was on the western side of Denton in a neighborhood of single homes with ample acreage around them. The lawns were beautifully landscaped, although waterlogged as the rain continued to fall at a steady pace. So far, only part of the area had been flooded. Josie and Gretchen followed several detours until they came to Lana Rosetti’s home, relieved to see it was out of the flood zone. A sign on the front lawn said: Rosetti Psychology.
“She’s a psychologist?” Gretchen asked.
“Guess so,” Josie said as they got out of the vehicle and walked up the driveway. Five steps led to a landing in front of the dark-red front door. On either side were potted plants. Josie rang the doorbell and they waited. A few moments later, a woman answered. She closely resembled Lana Rosetti but was too old to possibly be her. Her thin frame was draped in an ankle-length floral print dress. Wavy blonde hair fell to her shoulders. Bright blue eyes looked over a pair of glasses as she studied the two detectives. “Can I help you?”
They showed her their credentials. Josie said, “Mrs. Rosetti? Lana’s mother?”
“Yes, that’s me. You can call me Paige. Are you looking for Lana?”
Gretchen said, “We’d like to talk to her if we could. Is she here, by any chance?”
Paige studied both of them for a long moment. “May I ask what this is about?”
“Of course,” Josie said. “We’re investigating the death of one of her high school friends. We were hoping to talk to her about anything she remembers from that time period that could help us in our investigation.”
“Oh dear,” Paige said. “Maybe you should come in.”
They followed her through an airy foyer with light hardwood floors into a kitchen which was dominated by an oversized rustic wood table at its center. A laptop stood open on one side of it. Paige glanced over her shoulder at Josie. “You went to high school with my daughter, didn’t you?”
“I did,” Josie said. “But we weren’t friends.”
Paige motioned to the mismatched wooden chairs tucked beneath the table. “Please sit,” she told them. “Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?”
They both declined. Gretchen said, “Is Lana here?”
Paige smiled. “No, but I’ve got a video call scheduled with her in seventeen minutes, if you’d like to wait around.”
Josie said, “We’d much rather meet with her if that’s possible.”
Paige laughed, taking a seat in front of the laptop. “Oh, I’m afraid that’s not possible. My daughter and her family are halfway across the globe. The only time I get to see or talk to them are these prescheduled video calls and half the time they fall through. The infrastructure where they are isn’t the best.”
“Where is she?” Gretchen asked.
“Burundi,” Paige answered. “It’s in Africa. Lana and her husband work with Doctors Without Borders. My grandson is there with them.”
Josie said, “Maybe we will have some coffee.”
Paige laughed. “Good choice.”
She brewed a pot of coffee as they waited for Lana to come online. “You said this was about a high school friend?”
“Beverly Urban,” Gretchen said. “Her remains were recently found here in Denton. It appears she was murdered just after her junior year of high school ended.”
Paige said, “Oh how sad. That’s terrible.”
“Do you remember Beverly?” Josie asked.
“I do. I remember that her relationship with Lana could be rocky at times. I thought she must not have a good home life because she often acted out. She was very attention-seeking and my Lana, back then, was too nice for her own good.”
“Did you know Beverly’s mom?” Josie asked. “Or ever have occasion to talk to her?”
Paige set mugs and spoons in front of them, along with a bowl of sugar and a small carton of milk. As they each prepared their coffee, she took a moment to think about it and then shook her head. “No. I didn’t. I thought about it sometimes. Beverly could be cruel toward Lana, but then they always worked it out. Then Beverly moved away, and it was no longer an issue.”
A ding sounded from Paige’s laptop. Josie and Gretchen sipped their coffee and waited while Paige and Lana connected and chatted briefly. Then Paige explained that the police were there and why. They heard Lana’s voice. “Oh my God. Poor Beverly. They’re there right now? I’ll talk to them.”
Josie and Gretchen stood and crammed into the frame behind Paige. They could see themselves in a small box on the top right-hand corner of the screen. Lana appeared in a box that filled the center of the screen. Her curly blonde hair was tied back in a messy ponytail. Her skin was sunburned, peeling along her nose. She wore a faded gray Doctors Without Borders T-shirt. It looked as though she was inside a drab green tent. Josie made introductions. It took longer than expected as every so often, the screen froze and their words were lost. Josie felt frustration mount inside her, but she stayed calm and focused. Finally, they got to their questions.
Gretchen said, “Lana, we understand you were good friends with Beverly. We have reports that she wasn’t seen by anyone close to her after your junior year of high school ended. Was that the last time you talked with her?”
“The last time I talked to her was about a week after school ended. We hung out at my house. She slept over. She went home in the morning, and I never heard from her again.”
Josie asked, “Did you go to her house? Call around? Try to find out where she went?”
“Of course,” Lana said. “No one was there. No one else had seen her. We knew she was moving so I just assumed that’s what happened. They moved away.”
The screen went haywire for a moment. Where Lana had been was just a mess of lines. They waited as it snapped back. Gretchen said, “We spoke with Kelly Ogden earlier today. She told us that there were several males that Beverly was interested in at the end of your junior year in high school.”
“That’s right,” Lana said.
Josie jumped in. “Kelly said there were four. Does that sound right to you?”