Speak No Evil Read Online Free

Department,” Will said. “Is there a private area where we can talk?”
    Debbie Vance slowly nodded, her expression confused, her eyes asking questions she didn’t voice. Knowing something was wrong, but not wanting to ask for fear the question would bring a tragic answer.
    Carina remembered the feeling.
    “This way,” Mrs. Vance said tightly.
    She led them through the kitchen to a small, crowded office that had no door. She looked around for three chairs, but there was only one. No one sat.
    Carina asked, “Mrs. Vance, when was the last time you saw your daughter?”
    Her lip quivered. “Is something wrong with Angie?”
    Carina didn’t say anything, and Mrs. Vance continued in a rush, looking from Carina to Will. “Friday morning. I was leaving for work when she got up to go to classes. She goes to UCSD, you know. On full scholarship. She’s very smart, straight-As all through high school . . . ”
    She took a deep breath. “She goes out with friends on the weekends, and I work early and go to bed early, so I don’t really keep tabs on her anymore. She’s eighteen, she’s a good girl, never got into drugs, I didn’t think I needed to watch—oh God.” Her voice cracked. “I heard her come in late Friday night, after one, but when I checked on her Saturday before I left for work, she was already gone.”
    Mrs. Vance searched their expression. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
    Mothers always know.
    Carina took her hand as Mrs. Vance sat heavily into the only chair. Will said in a quiet voice, “A body was found on the beach this morning that matches Angie’s description.”
    Mrs. Vance stared at them, shaking her head. She’d asked, but she didn’t want to hear. Carina didn’t blame her. No one wanted to hear when someone they loved and nurtured was dead. “No, I would know. It’s not Angie. You don’t
know
it’s her, right?”
    Carina didn’t tell her the DMV prints matched. It seemed too cold. Instead she said, “When you feel up to it, we’d like you to come down to confirm her identity.”
    “Right now. Right now. It’s not her.” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, said, “What happened to the girl you found?”
    There was never an easy way to tell a parent their child was dead.
    “She was murdered, Mrs. Vance,” Carina said softly.
    “Someone killed her? On purpose? Who?”
    “We’re doing everything we can to find out,” Will said.
    The waitress with the waffles—her tag said Denise—pushed herself into the small room and Mrs. Vance turned to her, sobbing. “They think my Angie is dead.”
    The two women embraced and Carina steeled her emotions, willing herself
not
to remember the agony and pain of losing a loved one to violence. When the two women separated, she asked, “Mrs. Vance, does Angie have a close friend we can speak with? Maybe a boyfriend? Someone who might know where she went Friday night?”
    “That’s what happened,” Mrs. Vance said with a certainty that wasn’t as evident in her shaking hands as it was in her voice. “She was with Abby and Jodi. They have an apartment near campus, she’s always staying there.” She scrawled the names and an address and phone number on the back of a guest ticket. “Maybe Kayla, but they’re not as close as Angie and Abby.”
    “What about her father?”
    Mrs. Vance shook her head. “Carl left years ago, when Angie was not much more than a baby. He—We don’t keep in touch anymore. He remarried and moved out of state. Doesn’t even remember to send Angie birthday c-cards.” Her words ended in a sob, which she swallowed back, putting a stoic expression on her face. Holding it together.
    “She’ll be back today, after class.” Denial.
    “Do you know her boyfriends?”
    “Angie wasn’t steady with anyone.”
    “She never talked about boyfriends with you?”
    “Yes, but not in detail. She doesn’t have a regular fellow. She’s too young for that, and that’s fine with me. I always tell