Erica Spindler by In Silence Page B

How had the boys’ lives gone so terribly askew? How could such a thing happen in the safe haven of Cypress Springs?
    Which was the question the rest of the citizenry had wondered as well, Avery realized as she shuffled through the articles. They fell into two categories: ones detailing the actual crime and investigation, and the lion’s share, editorials written by the outraged citizens of Cypress Springs. They’d demanded change. Accountability. A return to the traditional values that had made Cypress Springs a good place to raise a family.
    Then, it seemed, things had quieted down. The articles became less heated, then stopped. Or, Avery wondered, had her father simply stopped collecting them?
    Avery sat back. She reached for the cup of coffee and sipped. Cold and bitter. She grimaced and set the cup down. Nothing in the articles answered the question why her father had collected them.
    She had lived through these times. Yes, her parents had discussed the crime. Everyone had. But not to excess. She had never sensed her father being unduly interested in it.
    But he had been. Obviously.
    She glanced at her watch, saw that it was nearly noon already. Perhaps Buddy would know the why, she thought. If she hurried, she should have plenty of time to stop by the CSPD before her two o’clock appointment with Danny Gallagher.

CHAPTER 6
    C ypress Springs’ police headquarters hadn’t changed in the years she had been gone. Located in an old storefront downtown, a block off Main in back of the courthouse, it resembled a hardware store or feed and seed more than a modern law enforcement center.
    Avery entered the building. The whirling ceiling fans kicked up fifty years of dust. The sun streaming through the front window illuminated the millions of particles. The officer on desk duty looked up. He was so young, he still sported a severe case of adolescent acne.
    She stopped at the desk and smiled. “Is Buddy in?”
    â€œSure is. You here to see him?”
    â€œNope, just wanted to see if he was here.”
    The kid’s face went slack for a moment, then he laughed. “You’re teasing me, right?”
    â€œYes. Sorry.”
    â€œThat’s okay. Are you Avery Chauvin?”
    She nodded. “Do I know you?”
    â€œYou used to baby-sit me. I’m Sammy Martin. Del and Marge’s boy.”
    She thought a moment, then smiled. As a kid, he had been an absolute terror. Interesting that he had decided to go into law enforcement. “I never would have known itwas you, Sammy. Last time I saw you, you were what? Eight or nine?”
    â€œEight.” His smile slipped. “Sorry about your dad. None of us could believe it.”
    â€œThanks.” She cleared her throat, furious with herself for the tears that sprang to her eyes. “You said Buddy was in?”
    â€œOh, yeah. I’ll tell him you’re here.” He turned. “Buddy! Got a visitor!”
    Buddy shouted he’d be out in a “jiffy” and Avery grinned. “Fancy intercom system, Sammy.”
    He laughed. “Isn’t it, though. But we make do.”
    His phone rang and she wandered away from the desk. She crossed to the community bulletin board, located to the right of the front door. Another one just like it was located in the library, the post office and the Piggly Wiggly. Cypress Springs’ communications center, she thought. That hadn’t changed, either.
    She scanned the items tacked to the board, a conglomeration of community information flyers, Most Wanted and Missing posters and For-Sale-by-Owner ads.
    â€œBaby girl,” Buddy boomed. She turned. He came around Sammy’s desk, striding toward her, boots thundering against the scuffed wooden floors.
    â€œI was afraid you’d be at lunch.”
    â€œJust got back.” He hugged her. “This is a nice surprise.”
    She returned the hug. “Do you have a minute to talk?”
    â€œSure.” He