“Well, Cornwall does, as a matter of fact …”

Tony’s eyes fastened on him, and he elaborated. “We were together. All night.”

“So, you’re Bliss’s alibi. Are you prepared to swear in court that she was with you the entire night? She couldn’t have skipped out, shot Sophie Quantz at St. Paul’s, then returned to bed without you noticing?”

“Not unless she drugged me. So far, motive eludes us and we have no murder weapons. Faith was struck on the head. Sophie was shot, likely with a .32 handgun. One thing: Faith was struck on the left side of her head, near the front, indicating a right-handed assailant. Earl Archman is left-handed. So he says, and we’ll check that. I can’t see a man in his physical condition hoofing it around the block, climbing the stairs to the choir loft to shoot Sophie. He’d go to the bottom of the list except he’s nervous about something.” Neil clicked the Save option with his mouse. “The other five suspects are right-handed.”

“We got fuck-all,” Tony observed. “On anybody.”

Neil’s phone rang. “Reiner,” he mouthed to Tony. After the first few words, he pressed a button. “You’re on speaker, Ed. Tony Pinato is with me.”

“I just got a call from the Forensic Pathology Unit about the bones. I didn’t expect to hear anything for months, but this …”

They listened without interrupting.

“… this is something they thought important enough to let me know — they found fetal remains among the bones.”

Neil’s fingers tightened on his cell. “Any chance of a DNA match?”

“They’re faxing an interim report on the findings. A DNA match is possible regarding the fetus, once the lab confirms the skeleton is Faith Davidson and we provide them with DNA from the father. I’m sorry I missed it when I packed up the bones for transport.”

“Not your fault, Ed. Thanks for letting us know.”

He disconnected and looked at Tony. “We probably just narrowed our suspects down to the five men on our list.”

CHAPTER

twenty-seven

We met at my house at eight o’clock sharp. After one look at Rae in her pink T-shirt and yoga pants, Chico and Fang tried to talk her into coming with us. I ixnayed that. “She was only in grade school when we graduated, so she has no part in this.” Rae was twenty-six and they needed to keep in mind they were both married with ten or twelve children between them.

We headed out in separate vehicles and, at eight-twenty, stood in the barren wasteland that used to be the student parking lot behind the gymnasium of the old high school. The rain had changed to sleet, which coated the cracked asphalt with a thin slick of ice. I stood well away from Chico.

Police tape whipped in a wind that couldn’t make up its mind whether to blow west off the lake or south from the U.S., where a major winter storm was brewing. Neither choice boded well for a town caught in the crosshairs.

“Somebody broke through the tape.” I had wanted to do it myself.

“That was me.” Fang took a final drag off his cigarette and threw it away. “The cops released the scene a few days ago, so me and Larry carried out anything worth a few bucks. There wasn’t much. Better turn on your flashlights.”

He pulled on the metal door of the gym and it swung open on creaking hinges. Inside, the darkness was absolute. We aimed our beams straight ahead but they illuminated nothing but an expanse of dusty flooring and a few trash bins.

“I took out the folding tables and chairs.” Fang lit up another, not so legal, cigarette. He took a couple of drags, then handed it to Chico, but when he in turn offered it to me, I passed. My two experiences with the stuff last summer — inadvertent and not my fault — convinced me I was allergic to the stuff.

“Hold your lights on me.” I tipped over a trash bin and jumped back as paper plates, napkins, plastic utensils, and something with a long tail skittered across the floor.

The noise was deafening in the empty space as the metal bin rolled out of sight.

“What are you doing?” Fang shouted. “Somebody will hear.”

“Nobody is around to hear.” I dumped the other two bins, then kicked aside the garbage. It was so old, it didn’t even smell. “I’m looking for clues. I don’t see anything, though.”

“I think the cops would have checked through the trash, Bliss.”

“Look,” I said to Fang, “before we continue with our experiment, I want to go into the locker room where Faith was found. I’m not doing it out of morbid curiosity. I must have gone in there at some point during the three hours we were held prisoner that night. Maybe if I see it again, something will come back to me. You guys can wait here.”

“I’ll come with you.” Chico’s voice was a little shaky, but I appreciated the support. “We were all running back and forth between the girls’ and boys’ locker rooms.”

“Call me when you’re done.” Fang’s footsteps echoed on the wooden floor. “I’ll be in the parking lot.”

Chico walked so closely behind me, I had to jab him in the stomach with my elbow. The exit door to the hallway stuck and it took our combined strength to force it open. By now, I was sure my idea was a foolish one. How could I summon up memories from that crazy, noisy party? Now the school was cold, dark, and empty. All life had departed long ago.

The door to the girls’ locker room was propped open. We stood shoulder to shoulder in the middle of the cracked tile floor. Silence surrounded us. One of the items not on my bucket list is an hour in a sensory deprivation tank, and this place fit the bill. Chico sucked on the joint and the smell of weed added to my stomach jitters.

The beam from my flashlight swept across scarred benches and lingered on the dreaded common shower stall. I spent many a self-conscious moment in that shower, hoping the other girls wouldn’t make jokes about my inadequate boobs. Yeah, lots of opportunities for traumatic high school reminiscences here, but nothing from grad night.

My flashlight dimmed as I turned it toward the bank of lockers to our left. Chico’s elbow brushed against my shoulder and he added his powerful torchlight to my feeble one. Naturally, he had the biggest, heaviest, brightest flashlight Canadian Tire could provide. Side by side, we inched closer.

Fifteen four-foot lockers comprised the row. I couldn’t remember which had been mine. Every door hung open. Fang and Larry would have begun their search for booty at the lockers closest to the door, and stopped when they found Faith. The police completed the search.

We stopped about midway along the row. Only a small dark stain on the floor distinguished the locker from the others. Inside, the same stain covered the bottom. I knew where it came from, but refused to think what it had looked like through fifteen years of changing temperatures, insects, and rotting flesh. And the roses that had wilted then became part of Faith.

“That’s not right.” Chico’s voice startled me. “Faith was a nice girl. She shouldn’t have been killed and left in there all these years.” He threw the roach to the floor and crushed it under his heel.

“No, it isn’t. Somebody we know threw two bouquets of roses on top of her body, slammed the door closed, and hoped she’d never be discovered.” I was never going to forget this place. I would always think of it like it was now, as Faith’s tomb. Even demolition wouldn’t banish the bad energy. When I got old, I had to make sure I didn’t end up living in the retirement home planned for this site.

“Come on, Bliss. Let’s get out of here. I won’t remember anything now, not after seeing this.”

In the gym, I called out to Fang, and he reappeared from the parking lot, a fresh doobie dangling from his lips.