“I don’t know. Any ideas?” Bree pulled out her keyboard tray. On her desktop computer, she accessed Alyssa Vincent’s motor vehicle records. Her driver’s license photo was a match, and her driving record was clean. She’d never received a single ticket. An old 4Runner was registered in her name.
Marge shook her head. “We don’t have many homeless shelters nearby.”
“There’s one in Scarlet Falls.” Bree stood and stretched her back. Now that she’d eaten, her head felt clearer.
“Do you want me to call and see if they have space?”
“No.” Bree wanted to keep tabs on the girl. Alyssa was a witness, but she could also be a suspect. “I don’t know what I want to do with her yet. Thanks for the food.” Bree finished the water and took her coffee with her. She walked down the wood-paneled hallway toward the interview and conference rooms. She stopped in the break room and bought two packs of M&M’s and a Coke from the vending machine. Carrying them, she opened the door to the second room and went inside.
Alyssa sat at the table, her head resting on her arms. Her parka hung on the back of her chair. She lifted her head and blinked at the light. A line creased the side of her face.
“I can’t believe I fell asleep.” She rubbed her eyes. “I went from shaking to passed out in a few minutes.”
“The body releases stress hormones during a traumatic event. They rev you up enough to get through the event. But when it’s over, and they’re depleted, you crash.”
Instead of sitting on the other side of the table, Bree sat next to her and faced her—so she could better read her body language. She put down her coffee and set the Coke on the table in front of Alyssa. “Do you want water, coffee, or tea instead?”
“No, this is fine. Thanks.” Alyssa popped the top off the can.
Bree fished the M&M’s out of her pocket. She slid one bag across the table to Alyssa and opened the other. They sat and ate candy for a minute. Bree took her time settling into the interview. Alyssa wanted to talk. Bree could sense something ready to burst out of her.
Alyssa spun the pack of M&M’s around on the table in a slow circle.
“This interview will be recorded. That way I can go back and watch it for details I might have missed.”
Alyssa sniffed, and her head bobbed in a short nod.
Bree reached back and flipped a switch near the door. “This is Sheriff Bree Taggert interviewing Alyssa Vincent.” The video would be time-stamped.
“How long have you been homeless, Alyssa?” Bree asked.
“About a year.” She played with the edge of the candy package. “We were doing OK, me and my dad. But then he got cancer.” Her whole body sighed. “It was in his brain.” She paused, thinking. “He started chemo. The doctors wanted to hit the tumor hard. The treatment made him really sick and didn’t do anything for his cancer. It was like one day he was fine, and the next he was dying.” Her eyes welled up and tears began to run down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry that happened to you.” Bree got up, left the room, and got a box of tissues from the supply closet. “Where’s your mom?”
“She died when I was a baby. I don’t remember her.” Alyssa plucked a tissue from the box and dried her eyes. “My college money and all Dad’s savings went to pay his medical bills. We had insurance, but it didn’t cover everything. By the time he died, we were already being evicted from our apartment.”
“So, you lost your dad and your home.”
Alyssa nodded. “I couch surfed for a few months. But my friends all went away to college, and their parents got tired of having me crash on their sofas. Once spring came, I rented spaces at campgrounds. My dad and I used to camp. I had the 4Runner, all the gear, a nice tent, and everything. But then the campgrounds all closed for the winter.”
“When did you move into the cabin?”
“Three or four weeks ago. I don’t remember exactly.” Alyssa sipped her Coke. “I’d been sleeping in the 4Runner, but I’d have to wake up to start the engine every couple of hours because of the cold. I wasn’t getting much sleep, and the gas was getting expensive. I work part-time at the laundromat, but it doesn’t pay enough to rent anything bigger than a campsite. I’ve been trying to get a full-time job. No luck so far.”
“How did you meet up with Harper?”
“It got really cold that one week in February. I couldn’t stand it. I went to a shelter in Scarlet Falls. It’s run by a church. That’s where I met Harper. That was the first time I slept through the night in a month.” Her mouth flattened. “It was the day after payday, and someone stole all my money while I was asleep. I’ll never go back to a shelter.”
“That’s terrible.”
“That’s when Harper said we were better off sticking together and staying away from the shelters. I’d told her about camping all summer. It was her idea to use one of the cabins. She said no one would know.” Alyssa scratched her arm, picking at the skin. The sleeve of her sweater rode up an inch, exposing two pink scars that ran parallel to her veins. “It isn’t luxurious, but as long as we keep the fire going, we stay warm. I have my job, and Harper cleans offices a couple of nights a week. She makes more money than I do. I drive her around, and she shares her food. The arrangement works—worked.”
“Where does Harper work?”
“Different offices all over town,” Alyssa said.
“Do you ever drop her off or pick her up from work?”
“Yeah. The main office is in that industrial complex on the corner of Route 51 and Evergreen Road.”
Bree wrote down the address. “Can you describe Harper for me?”
“She’s about five seven or eight. She’s thin and has long brown hair.”
That description would also fit Alyssa, Bree noted. “There were cleaning products in the cabin. Did Harper bring those from work?”
“No.” Alyssa shook her head. “She bought them. Taking them from work would have gotten her fired.”
“You’re right,” Bree said. “Did you both clean the cabin?”
“Mostly Harper. She’s kind of particular. Maybe a little OCD.”
“What happened this morning?”
Alyssa had already walked Bree through the shooting back at the cabin, but Bree would make her tell her story several more times to check for inconsistencies. Lying was hard.
“I woke up thinking I heard a scream.” Alyssa took a long, steadying breath. “It was still dark. I didn’t know what time it was. But I saw that Harper was gone—and all her stuff was gone too.” Her voice changed, taking on an angry edge. “I didn’t know where she would have gone. She doesn’t have a car, and she picked one of the cabins farthest away from the office in case anyone stopped in there over the winter. No one would see us.” Alyssa’s eyes tightened. “I checked my backpack. My keys and wallet were gone. All my money was inside. It wasn’t much, but it was all I had until payday. Anyway, I thought she’d stolen my truck too, but it was still parked out front. I looked through the window looking at the backyard and saw a shadow. So, I went looking for Harper.”