“Clara, it’s true. This is the way of our people,” she insisted, her voice gravel. “Evan Barstow warned me that if people found out that Delilah had been taken by a man, she would be deemed unfit for marriage. Our Delilah would become one of the fallen girls.”
Forty-Two
My heart ached as I watched Lily prop up Mother as they shuffled out the courthouse door. Sariah wrapped her arm around Naomi, who like Mother struggled to move forward. Once they reached the trailer, they faced the grim task of telling the rest of our family about Sadie. I found Max in his office, filled him in on what I’d learned and asked him to call Alber PD. “If Gerard is there, tell them that we’re on our way. If he’s not, ask where he is. We need to find out what he knows.”
When Max circled back to my makeshift office, I was buckling my gun belt. As I slipped my Colt in the holster, he explained, “Gerard never returned to the station. They haven’t heard from him. The dispatcher has been calling him all afternoon on another matter and he hasn’t responded.”
“Put a BOLO out,” I said. “Anyone who sees Gerard should detain him for questioning.”
“You sure about that?” Max asked. “We’re talking about Alber’s police chief.”
Frustrated that he still pushed back, I pointed out, “We’re talking about the brother of a kidnapping suspect who may have inside information.”
Max looked concerned but agreed. “Okay. Will do.”
“Strange time for Gerard to go AWOL,” I remarked. “Let’s send backup to help keep Evan under surveillance, just to be safe.”
“I already did,” Max said. “The squad we left there hasn’t seen any unusual movement at the ranch. Just kids playing in the yard.”
“We’re not ready to confront Evan yet. We need more evidence.” I thought about the chains in Evan’s shed and wished yet again that we’d taken them. “The most important thing is that we need to figure out where he’s keeping Delilah. Do we know if Evan owns any other property?”
“I haven’t heard that he does, but it’s possible.”
“Can you check?”
“Sure, I’ll call the county clerk.” Minutes later Max rushed back through the door. “Evan has an old horse ranch in the far northwest corner of Alber, near the mountains.”
Finally a break, I hoped. “It sounds like the perfect place to hide a hostage.”
Then Max said something that immediately registered on my radar. “I put in a call to Mullins. He’s going to lead us out there. It’s off one of the old mining roads, hard to find.”
I stopped and looked at Max, alarmed at what I’d just heard. “You told Detective Mullins that Evan Barstow is a suspect and we want to question Gerard?” Having Mullins on board could be a good thing, but I worried that he might not be on our side. I remembered what he said about Gerard being the boss. “Mullins could warn Gerard that we’re trying to find him. Maybe he already has and that’s why he’s made himself scarce.”
“Mullins won’t do that,” Max said. “I explained that we’ve got multiple abductions and one murdered girl. I told him that Evan had Delilah’s flashlight and that Gerard may be aware of his brother’s involvement. Mullins insisted it’s some kind of mistake, but we agreed that he wouldn’t alert anyone, especially Gerard.”
“You trust him?”
“Yeah.” Max looked over at me. “I’ve worked cases with him. Mullins is a good cop.”
Although I was skeptical, it did no good to argue. I couldn’t undo what Max had already done. Swallowing my doubt, I said, “Okay. Let’s go.”
On our way out the door, Helen, the sheriff’s secretary, shouted for me and pointed at the waiting area. “Detective, your brother just arrived.”
Aaron stood near the window holding a small beige book. I’d forgotten that I’d asked to have him bring Sadie’s diary.
“Thanks,” I said, as I grabbed it. I slipped it under my arm, and turned to leave.
“Clara,” he shouted. I glanced back at him. “Can I help?”
“Not unless you know where to find Delilah.” Aaron shook his head, and I ran out the door.
Moments later, Max and I drove out of the parking lot in his car, followed by two squads. “Where are we meeting Mullins?”
“We’re swinging by the PD,” he said.
“Okay,” I replied, although doubts about Mullins still gnawed at me.
The siren on, we made good time to Alber. Mullins and someone else waited in a black-and-white outside the station. They took the lead, and we wound through town to the northwest, the sky now rapidly darkening. A ten-minute drive, and we turned onto a country road. We passed a few farmhouses, and off to my right I saw the dirt road that led to Mother Naomi’s bee shed and hives. My throat tightened, and I coughed to clear it.
“You okay?” Max asked.
“Just thinking about Sadie.”
“You think that was her in the field?”
“Yes, I do. We’ll need to make sure, but the body has her hair color, her height, it’s clothed in her dress and wears her ring.”
“I’m sorry, Clara.” He aimed straight ahead and we followed Mullins onto one of the old dirt mining roads leading toward the mountain. “I wish I’d stood up for you, when the sheriff and the Barstow brothers… Clara, if I could do it all over again…”
I still didn’t completely trust Max. Just hours earlier, he’d kept me from following my instincts when I wanted to take Evan’s chains into evidence. As Max drove, he kept glancing at me. I knew that he wanted me to say I forgave him. I should have been able to. But when I thought of Delilah, I couldn’t.
“Max, just get me to Evan Barstow’s ranch. I can’t lose another sister today.”
His jaw tightened, and Max pressed harder on the gas.
Three miles down the road, Mullins took a hard left and drove through a gate with a “B” in a circle at the top. It led to a two-story farmhouse, the wood siding weathered silver gray. I picked up Max’s radio. “Detective Mullins, when we reach the house, hang back. We have our backup, and we’ll go in.”
“Miss Jefferies, with all due respect, I don’t work for you,” Mullins argued. “I’m going in with you to help, but as much to make sure this is all on the up and up.”
“We don’t know what we’re walking into, Mullins,” I said. “Stand back.”
“You’re not going to find squat here,” Mullins scoffed. “I know Evan Barstow. I worked for him. He’s a good man. He wouldn’t—”
“I’m ordering you to stand down, Mullins,” I said again. “This isn’t your show.”
“Shit, this is ridiculous,” he mumbled. “Hell of a waste of—”
Max took over. “Detective Jefferies is right. You’ve got the wrong attitude for this, Mullins. We’re going to handle it. It’s our case, not yours.”
“Okay, Max. You two win. You take the lead. But I’ll be observing. This better be by the book.” At that instant, Mullins pulled to the side and Max sped past him, followed by our backup. We parked in front of the house.
The sun was below the horizon, but the fading sunlight combined with the emerging moon to prolong the dusk. As soon as the car stopped, I jumped out. Max followed, leaving the headlights trained on the building. I wondered if Evan had an accomplice, someone guarding Delilah. We had our guns out, and I scanned the windows, leery that someone could be watching us. The other units pulled in and two deputies ran to guard the back door, while the others took cover behind their cars’ open doors, rifles pointed at the house. I looked back and saw Mullins park near the barn. He and the guy with him stayed in the car.
My heart slammed against my ribs, pumping hard, as I walked up a few steps to the front door. No doorbell. I pounded on the heavy oak door. It felt solid and didn’t budge. I wasn’t waiting for permission. I put my hand on the knob and turned it. The unlocked door opened.
“Police! Anyone home?” I shouted. “Detective Jefferies and Chief Deputy Max Anderson here.”
Max followed me in with
two deputies behind us.
“Police! Anyone here?” he shouted.
No answer.
We split up and I took the kitchen. I tried the light switch and a bare bulb flickered into life in the center of the ceiling. The place was disgusting. We dodged bags of garbage, boxes piled up, dirty clothes. Clumps of food on dirty plates rotted on the table, more in the sink. A rat watched me as it nibbled on something in a corner. I kept walking. I heard the others, the sound of their feet slapping on the floorboards, the squeak of opening doors, as I circulated through the room. I held my breath, and slowly edged open the pantry.
Empty.
While the others finished combing the first floor, I joined Max in the hallway and we headed upstairs. The second-floor hallway had four doors. Four rooms. We walked in the first. A bed, rumpled sheets, piles of clothes. It looked like one Evan used when he slept at the house. I opened the closet door, half expecting someone to jump out. Plaid shirts and faded jeans hung haphazardly from hangers. Next was the bathroom, where wet towels soaked the floor. We circulated through another bedroom. Bare. Not even furniture. The closets gaped open with nothing but cobwebs inside. We tried the last door, at the top of the stairs, and it creaked open. This room was darker than the others. I flipped on the light. Someone had boarded up the only window.
A frayed and stained cushion lay on the floor, a bucket beside it. A single chair sat in the center of the room. The room smelled of urine.
“What’s that?” Max asked, pointing at the wall above the cushion.
A wave of disquiet surged through me. I thought once again of Sadie’s body and the bruises Doc had shown me. He’d thought they were caused by a chain.
“It’s an anchor,” I whispered to Max. It felt as if everything had clicked into place. I understood. “Evan chains them to it. He keeps them locked up. That way he doesn’t need any help, anyone to guard them.”
Max shook his head, as if it were too depraved to comprehend.
“Chief Deputy, we found something in a room down here,” one of the deputies called up.
The first-floor room appeared a near copy of the one we’d just left—a filthy mattress on the floor, a bucket, a boarded-up window, and a steel anchor screwed into the plaster wall.
My anger was building, but I reeled in my emotions. I couldn’t think at that moment about the chains and the anchors in the walls. I couldn’t let myself be overwhelmed by my growing sense of dread about what the monster who had the girls did to them. Finding Delilah required that I keep my cop face on. “There’s urine in the bucket upstairs and some down here. Two buckets.”
“Two hostages?” Max asked.
“Yeah. That’s what I’m thinking. Two hostages.”
“But where are they?” Max asked.
I shook my head. I didn’t have an answer.
As soon as we stepped outside, Mullins approached. He introduced the guy he had in the car with him as Officer Bill Conroy. I hadn’t met him before, but I felt sure that his face wasn’t usually ash gray.
“We checked out the barn, Detective Jefferies,” Mullins said, surprising me by dropping the Miss and without instruction addressing me by my title.
“Did you find anything?” I asked.
Mullins spoke, and I thought perhaps my heart might stop. “Yeah. And I put in a call for Doc Wiley.”
“We have a body?” I asked, afraid to hear his answer.
Every muscle in my chest contracted when he answered. “A woman. It’s bad.”
Twenty feet from its open door, the unmistakable stench of decomposition emanated from the barn. Max grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket. I took off my jacket, bunched it up and held it over my nose and mouth. It took our eyes a moment to adjust to the murkiness inside the barn. When mine did, I saw the decomposing body of a slender young woman. She hung by her handcuffed wrists suspended from a hook designed to move bales of hay. She had long dark hair, and wore a stained white prairie dress.
I took a closer look. Dried blood formed rows of irregular stripes down her dress. Thinking about how Doc said Sadie had been strangled, I examined her neck. She had a thin wound, ear to ear. Her throat had been slashed.
“Do you think it’s Delilah?” Max asked.
I felt ashamed to look at such an outrage and feel any relief, but I did. The girl’s body was bloated, her skin a ghastly greenish-brown. I would have bet she’d been dead for at least a week. In any case, I felt fairly sure this wasn’t my sister. “I don’t think so. Remember, Delilah has Sariah’s auburn hair.”
“That’s right.” He, too, sounded relieved, yet we were both looking at the girl as if we wanted to scream.
Another body. Another dead girl. Staring at the awful tableau, I couldn’t think of anything but Delilah. Evan Barstow was confined on his ranch, but he had to have her stashed somewhere. Did he have yet another hiding place? Or was my sister dead? I wondered if we’d ever find her or her grave.
Max must have understood how lost I felt. He took over. “I’ll send a few units to Evan’s ranch to make the arrest. Once the forensic folks arrive and we turn the scene over to them, we can head to the office to question him. Let’s not panic until we know more.”
The CSI unit came quickly, but by then, the last of the light gone, the sky had transformed to a deep navy blue and the stars shimmered. Outside the full moon shone, but inside the barn the dimness turned to pitch dark. The team set up a generator to power floodlights. The resulting ring of light gave the macabre scene an eerie glow.
I was leaning against Max’s car, waiting for him to tell me Evan had been arrested, when Doc arrived. “I hear you found another girl. Thought about your sister. Is it Delilah?”
“No. I’m sure that’s not her.” I’d been in such a rush that I hadn’t yet called him to tell him what I had discovered. “But Naomi, one of my mothers, gave us a DNA sample. It’s at the office. I didn’t have time to have it sent to the lab before we ran out to come here.”
“Why did you get a sample from her?”
“We need to compare it to the girl from the field.”
“Why would we do that?” Doc looked confused. “Why would you—”
“Doc, I’m pretty sure the girl in the field is my half-sister Sadie – Mother Naomi’s daughter.”
“Oh, Clara, I—”
He looked stricken and moved forward as if he might embrace me. I appreciated the kindness, but I couldn’t bear to see the sympathy in his eyes. “I can’t talk about this now, Doc,” I said, holding up a hand. “I just can’t.”
He appeared to understand, nodded and walked off.
When I saw Max approach with his cell phone to his ear, I got in his squad car for the drive to the sheriff’s office. I couldn’t wait to confront Evan, to push and prod, to manipulate and use everything I’d learned as a cop to get him to confess. Whatever it took, I would find my sister. And I would tie Evan Barstow up so tightly that no defense attorney would ever free him.
I knew immediately when Max slipped into the car beside me that he had bad news. “They found Delilah?” I asked. “She’s dead?”
“No, not that, but this isn’t good.”
“Just tell me,” I said.
“Okay.” Max closed his eyes just a second. “When our deputies circled the house to make the arrest, Evan wasn’t at the ranch.”
“But we had surveillance,” I said. “How is that possible?”
“His wives say Evan left the ranch not long after we did. He snuck out the back way, on a horse.”
I smiled. Max looked at me, wondering. “Don’t you see?” I said. “That makes it more likely that Delilah’s alive. Evan had time to come here and take her.”
Max looked worried. “That’s possible, sure. But we can’t be sure that’s what he did.” His eyes focused hard on me. “Clara, you can’t pin your hopes on what’s no more than speculation.”
“I understand that,” I said, a lump of anxiety lodged in my throat that made it difficult to speak. “But y
ou’re not understanding.” I took a deep breath, and then confessed, “I have to believe we can save her.”
Max nodded.
I paused, struggling to collect my thoughts. “Okay, so what we need to do is find Evan. And to do that, we need to find Gerard,” I said. “No one knows Evan better than his brother. If what Evan told my mother is right—that he told Gerard about Delilah—then there’s the real possibility that Gerard has first-hand information that might be useful. But one way or the other, Gerard is our best bet.”
“How do we find him?” Max asked. “I know this sounds crazy, but no one seems to know where he lives. He had an address in St. George a couple of years ago, but nothing listed in or near Alber. I had officers check out the St. George apartment, and someone else lives there now. The dispatcher has called his cell, I’ve called, and Gerard’s not answering.”
“This is ridiculous,” I said. “Why would Gerard suddenly disappear now? At this precise time? Unless…”
I walked over to where Mullins and his young partner, Officer Conroy, sat at a beat-up picnic table talking to the sheriff, who’d just arrived. “I still can hardly believe it, though I saw it with my own eyes,” Mullins said. “If this ain’t the damnedest thing, I don’t know what—”
“Did you warn him?” I blurted out.
“What?” Mullins sputtered. “You don’t think I—”
“Gerard Barstow has disappeared, nowhere to be found, at the precise moment that we need to ask him questions. I’m willing to bet someone gave him a heads-up.”
Mullins looked like I’d slapped him, and I noticed the scar on his cheek had turned a dark shade of purple, as if his heart rate climbed.
Officer Conroy glanced from his partner to me. “Detective Jefferies, I was with Detective Mullins when he got the call to bring you and Max out here,” the kid said. He was skinny as a scarecrow, straw-colored hair but dark brown eyes, and he looked scared. He scratched his right wrist, like his nerves were getting to him. “I didn’t see him make any phone calls, not until he called for the sheriff and the doc.”
The Fallen Girls: An absolutely unputdownable and gripping crime thriller (Detective Clara Jefferies Book 1) Page 24
