“I need to locate him. The sooner the better. But first, let’s see if we can find information on Anne’s aunt and her parents, and see if they still live in the county.”
Giovanni nodded, turning back to the computer and entered a new search for Violet and Eugene Fontaine. Another article popped up, one written by a local reporter on the twentieth anniversary of Anne’s disappearance. The reporter had interviewed Violet outside the small house where she and Eugene still lived. The caption under the photo named the street.
“I wonder if they still live in the same house,” I said.
Giovanni clicked on the article. It repeated some of the facts we’d already read and then described a small display of photos and candles that Violet kept near the front window. In one candlelit picture, I spotted a faint glint near Anne’s throat.
“Can you zoom in on this photo of Anne?” I asked.
He nodded. The bigger the photo got, the more blurred it was, but even so, it held enough detail for us to see what appeared to be a silver locket hanging from a chain around Anne’s neck.
“That seals it for me,” I said. “Audrey and Logan knew about the locket, and they must have tied it to the cold case.”
“It would explain why Audrey was worried that they weren’t safe. Someone must have found out she had the locket.”
I sat back down, and Luka sauntered over, laying his head on my lap. “It’s been twenty-five years. I’d say Anne isn’t just missing; I’d say she’s dead, and no one has found her body yet.”
“I need to speak to Whitlock, and to Foley,” I said. “But Foley’s out with my sister tonight. It’s their anniversary. I’ll start with Whitlock and get him to dig up everything they have on the cold case.”
Giovanni gave a small nod. “He will love that.”
“He will,” I said. “Solving two cases instead of one, and a cold case to boot. I must admit, the idea is exciting.”
I reached for my phone and made the call. Whitlock picked up on the second ring.
“Georgiana,” he said. “Is everything all right?”
“I have a theory.”
“I’ve been waiting for you to say as much. What is it?”
“Twenty-five years ago, a girl named Anne Fontaine was visiting Cambria over the summer, and she went missing,” I said.
“I remember. I was one of the detectives who worked on the case. What does Anne have to do with the reason you called?”
“I think her locket turned up in our woods, and I think Audrey found it. Now Audrey is dead and Logan is missing. If you’re not too busy, head over, and I’ll explain everything to you in person.”
He went quiet for a moment and then said, “I’ll swing by the station, grab the old files if I can find them, and be right over.”
15
Morning light washed over the hills as Whitlock and I drove along the coastal highway. Waves rolled against the shoreline below, a slow rhythm that fed into the theories running through my mind. We’d stayed up late the night before, going over Anne’s cold case. In the end, we felt we were both heading in a direction that would lead us to Audrey’s killer.
Beside me, Whitlock drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “So, we had a lot to talk about last night, didn’t we? Chasing clues is like piecing together a shattered mirror, each shard reflecting a sliver of the bigger picture. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Nice metaphor, and yes, I agree.”
He smoothed a hand over his floral tie, adjusting it. “It was interesting, going through the evidence box from Anne’s cold case. I remember the scarf was found not too far from her aunt’s house. Anne’s mother swore the scarf belonged to her daughter. She even showed me a photo of her wearing it to prove her point.”
“Back then, DNA wasn’t what it is now.”
“It sure wasn’t, which is why I dropped the scarf off to Silas this morning. DNA, hair and fibers, body fluids, skin oils, gunshot residue … old threads hold on to them longer than people expect sometimes.”
“It reminds me of Catherine Eddowes, Jack the Ripper’s fourth victim. It’s been over 130 years since her death, and yet reexamined DNA evidence of the semen on her shawl matched the descendants of Polish barber Aaron Kosminski, one of the suspects back then. What do you think of that?”
Whitlock shrugged. “I don’t know what to make of it. What about you?”
“I’m not sure either. Among scientists, it seems to be up for debate.”
