“From who?” Gretchen said. “Vera didn’t have a boyfriend. It doesn’t even seem like she had any friends.”
“That we know of,” Josie pointed out. “We don’t know enough about Vera. We really need to track down some people who knew her.”
“We need to find out where she was working before she hurt her back. It had to be a local salon.”
Josie’s cell phone rang. When she looked at the number, her heart jumped into her throat. “It’s Alice,” she said, swiping answer. The room went silent, all eyes on her.
“Detective Quinn?” Alice said. “Is this you?”
“Yes, Alice. It’s me. I’m glad you called. We really need to talk.”
“Yes, we do.”
Josie looked at Gretchen and Noah who nodded at her to keep going. “I can meet with you somewhere private, but I need to bring a colleague with me. Surely, you understand that. It’s for everyone’s safety.”
“Who? Who would you bring?”
Josie thought about what Alice had said about the police station not being safe. She didn’t believe for an instant that anyone on her team was corrupt, but obviously Alice had concerns. They could discuss those when they met. “Detective Gretchen Palmer,” Josie said. “She came here a few years ago from Philadelphia.”
There was a long silence. Then Alice said, “Fine. Bring her. But only her. You understand?”
“Yes,” Josie said. “I understand. Where do you want to meet?”
“There’s a Stop-N-Go by the interstate. You know it?”
“Yeah, I know it,” Josie said. “Meet you in the parking lot? Half hour?”
“Not the parking lot,” Alice replied. “Behind the Stop-N-Go.”
“Behind the— Alice, there’s nothing back there but trees and grass. It just drops off to the interstate.”
“Then no one will see us,” she said. “No one will think to look for us there. Don’t tell anyone you’re going to meet me. Do you understand? No one. If I see anyone besides two of you—anyone at all—I’m leaving. You got it?”
“Yes,” Josie said. “I understand.”
“I’ll see you in a half hour,” Alice said and hung up.
Josie pocketed her phone and looked at Gretchen. “Let’s go.”
In the parking lot, reporters huddled beneath umbrellas, rushing at them, shouting more questions. Like broken records, Josie and Gretchen said, “No comment” a half dozen times until they got out of the fray. The rain had slowed marginally. With so many roads barricaded, it took twenty minutes to go only a few miles to the Stop-N-Go. The gas station/mini-market sat atop a small hill just off the exit ramp from Interstate 80. Josie chose a spot in the parking lot, and they walked slowly around the back of the building. The other patrons were running to and from their cars, rain hoods pulled low over their faces, hurrying to get out of the rain. No one noticed Josie and Gretchen. The rain beat a steady rhythm on their raincoats. Josie smelled the dumpster before it came into view. It was flush against the back wall of the building, its green paint chipped, and its black plastic lid propped open. There was just enough asphalt for the trash truck to get back there and collect the refuse from the dumpster. Beyond that, as Josie had pointed out to Alice, was roughly an acre and a half of grass dotted with trees. The land terminated in a drop-off that overlooked the ribbon of route 80 below.
Their boots made sucking sounds in the grass as they walked toward the trees. “I don’t see anyone,” Gretchen said quietly.
“Let’s wait,” Josie said. They found a spot beneath a large, leafy maple tree and waited. In the distance, the interstate stretched out before them. Eastward, the Susquehanna was a thick brown smudge where it passed beneath the highway about a mile away. Red brake lights blinked periodically as cars approached the overpass.
“Shit,” Josie muttered. “Look at that. I think the river might be overtaking the interstate.”
Gretchen wiped rain from her eyes and squinted in the direction of the river. “There’s a creek that runs parallel to the interstate on the other side, isn’t there?”
“Yeah,” Josie answered. “That overpass is going to be underwater in the next hour.”
She took out her phone and called dispatch to ask them to call the emergency management department and the state police. As she spoke, she felt a thickness in her throat and tears welling behind her eyes. What was happening to her town? How much longer was this going to last? What would be left? She had spent her whole life in Denton. She’d graduated high school here. Gotten married here. Served on the police force for years. She had sacrificed so much for this city—literally bled for it on more than one occasion. It was hers and it was decimated. Turning away from Gretchen, she took in a shuddering breath and tried to focus on giving the dispatch officer instructions. For the first and only time since the flooding had started, Josie was grateful for the rain. Hopefully, Gretchen wouldn’t be able to tell she was becoming emotional.
Ten minutes later, the brake lights were a steady glow as the water sloshed over the barrier and onto the overpass. There was no sign of Alice. Josie dialed her number, but she didn’t answer.
“What do you think?” Gretchen asked. “She get spooked?”
Josie rubbed her temples, trying to keep the headache forming behind her eyes from getting worse and any errant tears from leaking out. “I don’t know. Maybe this was just a test. Maybe she can see us, but we can’t see her. She wanted to make sure we would come alone.”
They took a slow walk back to the Stop-N-Go, eyes searching all around for any woman sitting in a vehicle or standing beneath a tree. Across from the Stop-N-Go on one corner was simply a grassy knoll beside the entrance ramp to the interstate. The other two corners held a bank, which was closed, and a modest ranch-style home. From where they stood, Josie didn’t see anyone who might be Alice.
“Let’s go,” Josie said.
As they got into the car, the long wail of the emergency siren sounded again in the distance.
Twenty-One
At the stationhouse there was a reprieve: the press was gone. Josie and Gretchen tromped up to the second floor where Mettner sat at his desk. His brown hair was in disarray, and his clothes looked wet. “Hey, boss,” he said.
“Where are the reporters?” Josie asked.
“Amber is giving a press conference over at the command post,” he explained. “Hey, I’ve got something.” From the floor, he picked up a cardboard box and set it on his desk.
“What’s this?” Josie asked as she came around to peer into it.
Mettner used both hands to slick his hair away from his face. “Hempstead is still under water. Nothing to see there. It will probably be another day or two before the water recedes. But I did locate the wreckage of Mrs. Bassett’s house.” He pointed to the box. “Those are some of her personal belongings. I grabbed whatever I could safely gather. Maybe when Emergency Management is able to do more of a clean-up, they can get further into the house and find more.”
Josie stared at the contents: a few framed photographs, a small jewelry box, a couple of pairs of shoes, and several items of clothing. “Mett, this is great. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled. We just have to figure out where Emergency Services placed her, and we can get this stuff to her.”