Frank started backing out of the parking spot, and she was glad to see he had some experience. She could tell by the way he wasn’t going all rigid and stiff behind the wheel. She’d only driven a car once and she’d nearly crashed the damned thing.

  “Yeah, that’s plausible,” he said. “Let’s head over there. And if we do get called in for wrist-slapping, you recite everything you just said.”

  He pulled the car out onto the streets and Ava, who was really only accustomed to riding in cabs, thought it was rather surreal. Automobiles weren’t new to the police force, but they weren’t a staple. Not yet, anyway. But they were quickly becoming more and more normalized—just another way this world was moving on in a hurry, anxious to grow into something bigger. And, in the case of sixteen year-old Penny Pickett, a hell of a whole lot meaner.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The factory, which was called, rather unoriginally, Pickett Rubber, was a rather average-looking building. Anyone that happened to just take a single look at the building from the outside would never guess that it was run by a millionaire. Ava and Frank quickly discovered that the interior wasn’t much better. Walking in through the front door, they entered a small lobby that, while decorated moderately well, still smelled of the rubber being processed and manufactured on the other side of the wall.

  A very busy-looking man sat behind a table, smoking a cigarette and furiously scribbling numbers down onto a legal pad. He looked up to Ava and Frank with a tired expression on his face.

  “I’ll be right with you,” the man said. “Just a little busy today, that’s all.”

  “No worries at all,” Ava said, taking advantage of the man’s obvious troubles with whatever he was writing down. She showed her ID while Frank, following suit, flashed his badge. “We’re with the NYPD and just needed to have a look around on the floor. Do we need to have that cleared with anyone?”

  “Not really,” the man said, barely looking up from his pad and puffing away on his smoke. “Maybe the foreman. His name is Cal Nettle. He’s out there somewhere.” He waved idly to the right and said, “The first big door on your left. Help yourselves.”

  They exited the lobby down the small hallway the man had indicated. Through the large metal door, they entered into the only other space in the building—a huge, open-floored warehouse. There were several machines sitting in the center of the room, some connected with odd-looking belts that were held up by steel rods. Ava watched as one of these conveyor belts carried a chunk of rectangular rubber to its neighboring machine. This machine, from what Ava could tell, was to cut the rubber into different lengths. From there, two men were hauling the rubber away on wheeled crates.

  It all happened very quickly, leaving Ava to notice an overall distressing thing about the factory. As the realization settled in, Frank seemed to read her mind and vocalized her exact thoughts.

  “This place is a shithole,” he chuckled.

  He was right. While the work itself and the way the men performed it was quite impressive, the factory was a wreck. The floors were covered in chunks of rubber, dirt, grime, and portions of crates that seemed to have broken. There were shelves in the back, but it looked like a location where a child had thrown its toys out of disinterest. Everything was cluttered and Ava couldn’t imagine how anyone found what they were looking for among the mess.

  As for the workers, some of them looked to be no older than thirteen. The smaller ones were working just as hard, if not harder, than the older and more experienced ones. Something about it tugged fiercely at Ava’s heart.

  As she and Frank took the place in, a large man with dirt and dust covering most of his face came over to them. When he used a handkerchief to wipe most of it away, he revealed a face with some age to it. Ava guessed him to be in his mid-to-late fifties.

  “Can I help you folks?”

  Frank showed his badge, which he had never put away after showing the man in the lobby. “Detectives Wimbly and Gold, NYPD.”

  The older gentleman regarded Ava as if he’d never seen a woman before—which was fair, because she supposed he’d never seen a woman detective. She smiled, as if to let him know she got that reaction all the time.

  He offered his hand to both of them, seeming a little reluctant to do so when he offered it to Ava for a shake. “I’m Cal Nettle. I’m the foreman for the day shift. Is there something I can do for you folks?”

  “We’re just trying to get a feel for what it’s like to work here,” Ava said, raising her voice to be heard over the sounds of the machines and squeaking wheels and belts.

  “This is about Mr. Pickett’s daughter, isn’t it?” Cal asked.

  “It’s part of the investigation, yes,” Frank said.

  “Mr. Nettle, do you enjoy working here?” Ava asked.

  “Most of the time, sure. It’s a steady paycheck, and I’m not stupid enough to take that for granted. Some people would give anything for steady paycheck these days.”

  “And is Mr. Pickett a good boss?”

  “Well, he’s rarely here. We see him maybe two or three times a month. But when he does show up, he’s pleasant enough.”

  “What about Mack Duvall? He ever come around?”

  “Who’s that now?” Cal asked.

  It was answer enough for Ava. Honestly, it came as no surprise. If George Pickett barely spent time in this factory that earned him millions a year, why would Mack Duvall bother showing up?

  “What about Mr. Pickett’s family?” Frank asked, moving right along. “What do you know about them? He ever talk about them?”

  “Well, I can’t be help much there, either. The only member of his family I ever saw or even talked to was little Penny. Damn shame what happened to her. That girl sure was a treasure.”

  “You knew her?”

  “Fairly well I suppose. She came in just about every time her father showed his face in here. She seemed very interested in the machines and how everything was run. She was smart, you know? Always asking questions. And if she thought your answer was lacking, boy would she ever tell you!”

  “What do you mean?” Ava asked.

  “That girl paid attention,” Cal said. “Two visits here and she knew just about everything there was to know. The last few times she was in here, she was coming to me and making suggestions about how we could do things better. And you know what? We didn’t take any of her suggestions, but they all made sense.”

  I wonder if one of those suggestions was to clean up a bit, Ava wondered. But beyond that, she had another thought forming. And though it made no real sense, she thought it might be worth pursuing.

  “What about Kelvin?” she asked. “Did he ever come in?”

  “He did, but it’s been a while. He’s older, of course. Got married and lives in another town somewhere close by, I think.”

  Frank apparently caught on to where Ava was headed because his follow-up question was on the tip of Ava’s tongue. “Has he ever worked here in any capacity?”

  “If he did, I was unaware of it. He used to come in when he was a kid, just like Penny did. Now, rumor has it that Kelvin has some sort of stake in the place so I’m sure he’ll end up getting involved in some capacity. But for now…I just don’t know for sure.” He looked to the floor and sighed deeply at something. He quickly turned back to Ava and Frank with a frown on his face. “Unless there’s something else really important, I need to get back out there. George may not have been here physically but whenever he’s away for an extended period of time, the place sort of falls apart without him checking in.”

  “That’s perfectly fine,” Frank said. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Nettle.”

  They watched as he hurried out onto the floor, sidestepping an old, discarded piece of rubber and starting to yell at one of the younger workers.

  “Seems strange, doesn’t it?” Frank said.

  “Well, on the surface, it seems sort of sweet. I know it’s a little odd for a father to be more involved with his daughter’s life than his older son, but yes…it’s strange. Maybe George Pickett will be able to shed some light on it for us.”

  “Or maybe we’ll get another complaint filed against us,” Frank countered.

  “Maybe,” she said. “What do you say we go find out?”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Ava was not prone to thoughts of grandeur or self-importance but even she had to admit that it felt a bit more fitting to pull up in front of the Picketts’ Fifth Avenue home in a fairly new Ford flathead. Even then, though, as she and Frank stepped out, she couldn’t help but feel out of place. They walked to the door side by side and after knocking, were greeted by Evelyn.

  “Hey there,” Evelyn said. She sounded uncertain, as if she were surprised that they’d even bothered coming by again. She kept any additional comments to herself, though. She simply opened the door wider and let them in.

  “Are Mr. and Mrs. Pickett home?” Ava asked.

  “Yes ma’am. Mr. Pickett is in his study and Mrs. Pickett is up in Penny’s room. She went in there yesterday evening and hasn’t come out yet. I tried taking her food two different times, but she won’t eat.”

  “And what about the Duvalls?” Frank asked. “Are they here as well?”

  “No, sir. They left last night and I haven’t heard or seen from them since.” She looked to the floor, chewing at her lip. It was clear to Ava that she was holding back something.

  “Is something wrong, Evelyn?”

  “I know I have no right to say such a thing, but I don’t know that it’s a good idea that you’re here. They’re still pretty mad about what happened yesterday.”

  “That’s understandable,” Frank said. “But we have a job to do. And if they want to find out what happened to their daughter, we need to be able to do that job. And sometimes it means asking hard questions in difficult times.”

  Ava thought it was well said and took it as their cue to head across the foyer and down the hallway to George’s office. The office door was open, but Frank knocked before stepping in. George was sitting behind his desk, his head propped up in his right hand as he scanned several sheets of paper. He looked up at the sound of knocking and fumed when he saw the detective standing there.

  “No,” he said. “Get out.”

  “Sir,” Ava said. “We’re only trying to—”

  “Haven’t you done enough?” George yelled, getting to his feet. “Do you know the sort of circus I’m having to put up with after you hauled Mack out of here yesterday?”

  “I don’t give a damn about Mack Duvall,” Ava said. “All I’m concerned with is trying to find out who killed your daughter. And quite frankly, it baffles me that you seem not to want that help.”

  “How dare you even suggest that I—”

  “We paid a visit to your rubber factory,” Frank interrupted. “Had a talk with the day shift foreman.”

  “Ah, so you’re taking this into my work now, are you?”

  Ava stepped into the room, doing her best to keep her voice calm. “Sir, this is how police investigations work. We ask questions. Very hard ones at times. I can’t imagine the pain of losing a child. I have a young son and if he were taken from me, I imagine I’d be just as out of my mind as you are at the moment. But I assure you, we are only trying to help.”

  George sighed and collapsed back into his chair. He eyed them both skeptically. “So why bother going to the factory?”

  “To get a better idea of what your business looks like,” Ava said. “With a future merger between you and Mack Duvall, we were curious about the workers, the environment, and all of that.”

  “And what, exactly, does that have to do with Penny’s murder?”

  “You said you and George rarely fought. The sudden disagreement over the marriage of your children made us wonder if there may have been something you weren’t telling us.”

  “That’s nearly an invasion of my privacy!”

  “No, sir,” Frank said. “That’s called police work.”

  “Besides,” Ava said, getting a word in before George could have another little outburst. “Nothing came up. What we did discover was that Penny was something of a regular at the factory. The foreman said she really enjoyed visiting the place.”

  “She did,” George said, and it was the first time Ava had seen him smile. It was brief and sad, but it was a smile all the same. “Penny was exceptionally bright. She’d often hear me talking about issues at work while we were at the dinner table and quickly gave me her suggestions. She was very interested in what I do. She knew we were wealthy, but never took it for granted; it was like she wanted to know where all the money came from and when she found out, she was very interested in taking part.”

  “Did she ever actually work there or just sort of stayed behind the scenes?”

  George laughed for a second and Ava was surprised to find that it was a rather joyous sound. “Oh, she begged and begged me to let her work there. But you were there this morning, so you saw it…it’s just no place for a young lady. So I told her that when she was done with school and had settled down with a husband and started a family, I’d find her some sort of administrative job. She seemed excited about it and, to tell you the truth, I was already thinking about a job much higher than that. Something on the board of directors, perhaps. She and I had brief discussions about her eventually buying out the Duvalls much later on.”

  “Did you keep this from the Duvalls?” Frank asked.

  “Not at all. It was no secret—if we waited several years, everyone stood to make a great deal of money.” He stopped for a moment, considering. “It’s one of the reasons I was so quick to take Penny’s side when she decided she wanted out of the marriage. The one thing Penny and I had kept secret was that if we could figure out a way to buy Mack out by the time she was eighteen, then the marriage wouldn’t even have to happen.”

  It did not escape Ava that when George was given the opportunity to talk about his daughter, he did so with great excitement and joy. As he’d spoken during the past two minutes, it was almost as if the mention and memory of his daughter had made him forget that he was upset with them. But as he dived deeper and deeper into the inner workings of this multi-layered merger plan, she doubted they’d get much more. Already, each word he spoke seemed to be coming with more and more hesitancy.

  “Did Kelvin ever show any interest in the family business?”

  “No. But I suppose that’s because I pretty much forced it on him. He worked the floor when he was fifteen but clearly hated it. He was more interested in the business side of things but he just….well, he’s always been a well-behaved child but he just doesn’t have the mind or the personality for business. And because we do have wealth, I understood we had the ability to allow our children to do whatever they pleased when it came to their future. I believe Kelvin has his eye on being an educator or a—”

  He stopped abruptly and then shook his head. Massaging his forehead as if to stave off a headache, he sat back in the chair, so crumpled into it that Ava thought he might fall out.

  “Mr. Pickett?”

  “None of this has anything to do with Penny’s death. And I’m actually very hurt that you’d go so deep into these things. Shouldn’t you be out there on the streets, looking for her killer?”

  “Yes,” Ava said. “But finding clues of where to start begin here, at home. And so far, we have nothing.”

  “Well maybe you need to work harder,” George said, sitting up and shouting so suddenly that Ava found herself taking a step back.

  Ava raised her hands gently in front of her and nodded. “Fine. Thank you for your time.”

  She saw that Frank look confused, like he wanted to stay to see what else they could get out of him. But Ava thought they may have actually gotten more than either of them realized as they stood in the office. She gave him a brief nod, indicating she indeed thought it was time to go.

  “We’ll leave you now,” Frank said. “But please…I know there were lots of people in and out of here over the past few days. If you can think of anything that seemed remotely strange or out of the ordinary, call the station and ask for either of us.”

  George nodded but also waved them away as if they were nothing more than pesky flies. It had Ava making her exit and starting to feel quite confident that George Pickett was being so difficult because he didn’t want this case solved at all.

  They left the house together and headed back out on the street where a very fine mist of rain had started to fall. They slid into the Ford and as Frank started the engine, he gave Ava a slightly annoyed look.

  “So are you going to let me know what you’re thinking, or should I start guessing?” Frank said as he started up the Ford.

  “I think we looked right over Kelvin Pickett just because he doesn’t live at home.”

  “Well, he was at his own home the morning the body was discovered.”

  “True. But George just offered up a little nugget, didn’t he? He said that Penny was the one he was leaning more towards in terms of handing over most of the business. Of course, he did not come out and say it, but if he was going to have her come on board and buy out the Duvall portion after the merger, I think that paints the picture.”

  Pulling out into traffic, Frank thought this over for a moment. “But he said Kelvin didn’t seem to really care for it.”

  “No, he said Kelvin was only interested in the business side of it. He didn’t want to work that dirty floor. He wanted to be in the boardrooms and banks. So if he found out that there was a plan in motion to set Penny on that course, maybe he felt slighted.”

  “Slighted enough to kill his sister?” he asked, doubtful. “If anything, I’m maybe eyeing Mack Duvall a little harder. If he somehow found out about the Picketts’ plan to end the marriage after the buyout, that could have upset him. It could have made him feel like a pawn.”

  “He’d be getting a payday either way, though,” Ava pointed out.