Twenty-Five Years Ago Today by Stacy Juba
Authors: Stacy Juba
Tags: Suspense, romantic suspense, amateur sleuth, cozy mystery, Women's Fiction, mythology, new england, Journalism, greek mythology, newspapers, roman mythology, suspense books
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cracks. A couple
guys stopped their pool game and elbowed each other.
She swallowed her disgust. "A family friend.
Come on, we want your opinion, Vince. Take Jared Peyton. What did
you think of him?"
"The guy was a psychopath." Smirking, he
spoke to the breasts contained under Kris's turtleneck. "He'd call
Di at the bar and threaten her."
"Were you at the bar the night she died?"
Eric asked.
Vince's head shot up and his square jaw
locked. "I've been through this with the cops. I was throwing a
party."
"But you must have your suspicions. Do you
think Jared was obsessed with her?" Kris sidled closer, granting
Vince a better view of her chest. Dex had never mentioned this
aspect of investigative reporting. So much for the sweet and
innocent routine.
"You can bet your life on it, doll. He didn't
treat her right. She'd get off the phone with him in tears."
"Some people might think you were jealous of
Jared," Eric said. "Didn't you guys get in a fight?"
"I knew he was an asshole, so I clobbered
him."
"What about Diana?" Kris persisted. "Was she
the type you'd expect to get into trouble?"
"If you want the truth, we were a couple of
kids. If she hadn't gotten herself killed, I would've forgotten
her. I guess Aunt Di didn't make a lasting impression."
Eric's hands balled into fists at his sides.
"Listen, you-"
"Let him talk," Kris murmured.
"I wasn't gonna kill a girl in some jealous
rage, when I didn't even care about her," Vince went on. "Now
unless you're gonna order something, piss off. You've got no
business on my property. Unless the doll here wants to stick around
for awhile." He winked at Kris.
"Tempting as that is, I've got to run," she
said. "Are there any other people we could talk to from your
father's bar?"
"Good luck tracking them down."
"What about Raquel D'Angelo?"
"She's probably onto her fifth husband. Who
knows where she is. Besides, I gave you everything you need. Jared
Peyton killed Diana. Problem is, doll, you're twenty-five years too
late to catch him."
Eric and Kris headed back to the supermarket
without talking. Kris frowned out the window. Why would a girl like
Diana choose to work in a dive? She could have gone to college. Or
art school. She had real talent. Why would she give a punk like
Vince Rossi the time of day? She'd gone from Vince to a smooth art
lover like Jared Peyton. It didn't make sense.
Kris wanted Eric's opinion, but he glared
straight ahead, fingers clenched around the steering wheel.
"I don't believe a word that came out of
Rossi's mouth." Eric pulled into the parking lot and turned off the
engine. "He wouldn't remember her if she hadn't gotten killed?
Bullshit."
"He was trying to protect himself," Kris
said.
"Yeah, but even I remember Diana."
Her head jutted up. "Really? What do you
remember?"
"Don't you want to take out your
notebook?"
"That's not fair."
Eric paused, then answered, "You're right.
I'm sorry. But what do you expect out of these interviews? A
confession?"
"Of course not. I'm just trying to meet the
players." She waited a moment to cool down. "Look, Eric. You were
two when you lost someone you loved. My cousin was murdered when I
was twelve. She was like a sister to me. It ripped our family
apart. Our only comfort was knowing that her killer is behind bars
and will be for the rest of his life."
"Look-"
"I know what it feels like to have your
family in unbearable pain," Kris interrupted. "I wish you'd trust
me."
She opened the car door and climbed out.
Chapter 10
25 Years Ago Today
Plans for a two-story, 80-bed nursing home at
a 24-acre site are unveiled at a Fremont Zoning Board of Appeals
hearing.
T wenty-eight years
ago, Raquel D'Angelo could have modeled with her lustrous raven
hair, sultry dark eyes and high cheekbones. Kris turned to the
senior biographies in back of the yearbook. Raquel had belonged to
the prom court and History Club.
The Fremont High School History Club.
Kris frowned. It struck a familiar chord --
and not
guys stopped their pool game and elbowed each other.
She swallowed her disgust. "A family friend.
Come on, we want your opinion, Vince. Take Jared Peyton. What did
you think of him?"
"The guy was a psychopath." Smirking, he
spoke to the breasts contained under Kris's turtleneck. "He'd call
Di at the bar and threaten her."
"Were you at the bar the night she died?"
Eric asked.
Vince's head shot up and his square jaw
locked. "I've been through this with the cops. I was throwing a
party."
"But you must have your suspicions. Do you
think Jared was obsessed with her?" Kris sidled closer, granting
Vince a better view of her chest. Dex had never mentioned this
aspect of investigative reporting. So much for the sweet and
innocent routine.
"You can bet your life on it, doll. He didn't
treat her right. She'd get off the phone with him in tears."
"Some people might think you were jealous of
Jared," Eric said. "Didn't you guys get in a fight?"
"I knew he was an asshole, so I clobbered
him."
"What about Diana?" Kris persisted. "Was she
the type you'd expect to get into trouble?"
"If you want the truth, we were a couple of
kids. If she hadn't gotten herself killed, I would've forgotten
her. I guess Aunt Di didn't make a lasting impression."
Eric's hands balled into fists at his sides.
"Listen, you-"
"Let him talk," Kris murmured.
"I wasn't gonna kill a girl in some jealous
rage, when I didn't even care about her," Vince went on. "Now
unless you're gonna order something, piss off. You've got no
business on my property. Unless the doll here wants to stick around
for awhile." He winked at Kris.
"Tempting as that is, I've got to run," she
said. "Are there any other people we could talk to from your
father's bar?"
"Good luck tracking them down."
"What about Raquel D'Angelo?"
"She's probably onto her fifth husband. Who
knows where she is. Besides, I gave you everything you need. Jared
Peyton killed Diana. Problem is, doll, you're twenty-five years too
late to catch him."
Eric and Kris headed back to the supermarket
without talking. Kris frowned out the window. Why would a girl like
Diana choose to work in a dive? She could have gone to college. Or
art school. She had real talent. Why would she give a punk like
Vince Rossi the time of day? She'd gone from Vince to a smooth art
lover like Jared Peyton. It didn't make sense.
Kris wanted Eric's opinion, but he glared
straight ahead, fingers clenched around the steering wheel.
"I don't believe a word that came out of
Rossi's mouth." Eric pulled into the parking lot and turned off the
engine. "He wouldn't remember her if she hadn't gotten killed?
Bullshit."
"He was trying to protect himself," Kris
said.
"Yeah, but even I remember Diana."
Her head jutted up. "Really? What do you
remember?"
"Don't you want to take out your
notebook?"
"That's not fair."
Eric paused, then answered, "You're right.
I'm sorry. But what do you expect out of these interviews? A
confession?"
"Of course not. I'm just trying to meet the
players." She waited a moment to cool down. "Look, Eric. You were
two when you lost someone you loved. My cousin was murdered when I
was twelve. She was like a sister to me. It ripped our family
apart. Our only comfort was knowing that her killer is behind bars
and will be for the rest of his life."
"Look-"
"I know what it feels like to have your
family in unbearable pain," Kris interrupted. "I wish you'd trust
me."
She opened the car door and climbed out.
Chapter 10
25 Years Ago Today
Plans for a two-story, 80-bed nursing home at
a 24-acre site are unveiled at a Fremont Zoning Board of Appeals
hearing.
T wenty-eight years
ago, Raquel D'Angelo could have modeled with her lustrous raven
hair, sultry dark eyes and high cheekbones. Kris turned to the
senior biographies in back of the yearbook. Raquel had belonged to
the prom court and History Club.
The Fremont High School History Club.
Kris frowned. It struck a familiar chord --
and not
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