Her Last Day (Jessie Cole Book 1)

by T. R. Ragan

  “Well, that’s hard to believe, since you’re never home.”

  “Your mother and I both work long hours every day to keep a roof over your head and to pay for that uniform and those new soccer shoes on your feet.”

  “Mom stays late at the hospital because she’s helping to save lives, but what’s your excuse? You’re writing stories about dead people.”

  He did his best to reel in his frustrations. “I’m going to let that one go, young lady.” He frowned as he kept his eyes on the road. “I want you to keep your distance from Henry Rogers until I’ve had a chance to talk to him.”

  “What does that even mean? He’s my coach. Why do you need to talk to him? Because he’s friendly? Emily will find out, and nobody will have anything to do with me.”

  “He’s too hands-on with you girls.”

  “Hands-on? Are you serious? That’s disgusting. If you talk to him, I’ll quit soccer and never talk to you again.” She crossed her arms and sank lower into her seat.

  Less than fifteen minutes later, he was pulling into a parking lot outside of a one-story brick building.

  “Where are we?”

  “At the county morgue. I need to talk to someone. It won’t take long.” He climbed out of the van and told her to do the same.

  “I’d rather stay in the car.”

  “No can do.” He gestured for her to get out.

  She pulled a face, then climbed out and stomped toward the entrance.

  Inside, Ben was told his daughter would have to wait in the front area while he went to the back of the building. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  Abigail plopped down into a plastic chair in the corner and grunted.

  Ben’s footsteps echoed off the walls as he made his way down the corridor. The place smelled of antiseptics. He was offered a face mask but turned it down before he was led into the autopsy room, where Melissa Erickson was expecting him. The floor was tiled, and everything else was stainless steel. The room could be compared to a big industrial kitchen.

  Melissa Erickson tossed a blue paper sheet over the corpse lying on the steel table, then pulled her face mask to her chin. “You wanted to talk about an autopsy concerning Vernon Doherty—is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Terrel Manderly, the coroner you asked about when you called, was my mentor.”

  “I see.”

  “I looked over the report, and I feel confident in saying that I knew Terrel well enough to tell you he would have included smoke inhalation as cause of death if it in any way contributed to Vernon Doherty’s passing.”

  “But he didn’t list it,” Ben said. “What does that say to you?”

  “Well, first I’d have to point out that the number one cause of death in any fire is smoke inhalation. Smoke is a mixture of heated particles and gas, which are often toxic. Once you breathe that in, there is no room for oxygen. Small particles are inhaled deep into the lungs. Vernon Doherty showed no signs of carbon monoxide in his blood, which tells me he was dead before the fire started.”

  “What about bruising and lacerations on other parts of his body?”

  “Hmm. Even if the outside of a body is charred, the inner organs are usually fine. If the skin splits, muscle can be exposed. But lacerations, unless deep, won’t usually be revealed. Broken bones, on the other hand, would show a pattern that would be distinguishable.”

  It was quiet for a moment before she asked, “Is there something else?”

  “This might be a strange question,” Ben said, “but bear with me. In your professional opinion, could Vernon Doherty have been dead before first impact?”

  “Other than the driver’s blood alcohol level, there are no other indications of cause of death,” she said. “No heart attack or anything like that, if that’s what you’re alluding to?”

  Ben shook his head. “Not exactly. Let’s pretend for a moment that someone else was driving. Hypothetical, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “In that case, could Vernon Doherty have been dead for up to an hour or two before the crash occurred?”

  She frowned. “It’s possible, but difficult to determine because of the time it took to pull the wreckage and get to Vernon’s body. Rigor mortis is normally the first thing noted by an ME. Rigor normally starts in the smaller muscles in the face and neck within hours of death and then lasts up to thirty hours or so.”

  “And rigor mortis had set in,” Ben said.

  “By the time his body was examined, yes.” She raised a brow. “Does that help?”

  He nodded. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me. You’ve been a big help.” She was knowledgeable and helpful, but unfortunately, he still wasn’t any closer to the truth about that night.

  Jessie kept her eyes on the road as she thought about Arlo and the hopeless look she’d seen on his face at the police station. It bothered her to think she’d been so easily fooled.

  She used Bluetooth to call Colin, letting him know she was headed to Woodland. There was no answer, so she left a message. After she hung up the phone, she thought about the image of the man in Zee’s sunglasses.

  Had Zee become infatuated with Forrest Bloom and run away with him? Or perhaps he was taking advantage of Zee’s mental instability.

  Intent on finding out, she got off on Exit 33, following the directions on her phone, which took her down a seemingly endless country road. She passed by an equestrian facility followed by a variety of crops, finally making a right onto a gravel driveway.

  By the time she parked and shut off the engine, she realized that even if she headed home now, she wouldn’t be back before Olivia returned from school. She picked up the phone and left Olivia a message, letting her know she’d be home soon after Bella’s mom dropped her off.

  In front of her was a faded blue farmhouse with peeling paint and a crumbling roof. She grabbed her pepper spray, climbed out, and slipped it into her back pocket.

  The bottom of her shoes crunched against the pebbly rocks as she walked along, breathing in the scent of manure mixed with honeysuckle. Two wobbly wooden steps brought her to a wraparound porch. She knocked, waited, and then looked around before pressing her face next to the only sliver of glass not covered by the flowery-print curtains hanging inside. With her hands cupped around her eyes, she could see past a couple of worn couches. There was a round wooden table circled by four high-back chairs. The placed looked neat and well taken care of.

  After knocking again, she walked over to one end of the porch, where she could see fields of tall grass dotted with trees. She walked back down the steps toward her car, plunked her hands on hips, and stood there for a moment. Zee, she thought. Where are you?

  Looking over her shoulder at the house, she decided it would be crazy to leave without taking a better look around. With her mind made up, she turned around and followed the dirt path that led around the side of the house. Maybe someone was in the backyard. Surely Forrest Bloom would understand her concern once she explained that Zee was missing. Judging by how happy Zee had looked in the pictures, Forrest and Zee were friends, at the very least.

  When she got to the backyard, she took another long look at her surroundings. The only movement was a horse in a distant field. About twenty feet away was a barn. It was wrong to trespass, but she’d come all this way, and she hated to leave knowing he might be nearby. “Hello!” she called out.

  A strangled cry floated through the air.

  She stopped and listened, then figured she was hearing things.

  There it was again. In the distance she saw what looked like a pigpen. Figuring an animal might be pinned or trapped within the fence, she headed that way, hoping she could help. As she passed by a crudely built wooden box, she heard the noise again.

  Her skin prickled.

  It took her a few seconds to realize the noise was coming from inside the rectangular box. Both sides of it were warped, but the top looked newly constructed with fresh plywood. Jessie leaned over
and struggled to lift the lid before she saw that the plywood had been nailed shut. Heart pounding, she dropped to her knees. “Is someone in there?”

  This time she heard the muffled screams loud and clear.

  Her adrenaline roared to life. She jumped to her feet. Oh my God. Her only thought was to get whoever was inside out of there.

  “Help me!”

  Her stomach quivered as she tried again to open the lid. It was no use. The barn. There had to be tools inside. “I’m going to get you out of there. I’ll be back!”

  She turned and ran for the barn in hopes of finding a crowbar, anything at all to remove the lid. When she stepped inside, she slid her phone from her back pocket to call for help. By the time she heard movement behind her, it was too late.

  FORTY-TWO

  Ben and his wife were in their bedroom. The door was locked. Melony was pacing the floor in front of the bed while Ben changed out of his work clothes.

  “What were you thinking?” Melony asked him. “Bringing our daughter to the morgue? Did you know she caught a glimpse of a corpse as it was wheeled through the hallway?”

  He shook his head. “She didn’t mention it.”

  “What’s going on, Ben? You promised me twice that you would get help.”

  He sighed.

  “I talked to Lori Mitchell today, and she said she called and left you a message to come see her and that you never showed up.”

  “Melony,” he said after he pulled a T-shirt over his head, “I’ve got a lot going on right now. I really don’t need to be lectured. I’ll make another appointment. I promise.”

  She stopped pacing and instead crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “Abigail said that you embarrassed her in front of her friends and the new coach.”

  “Have you met the guy?”

  “Of course I have. He’s a good man, a decent husband and father. He’s a busy man, just like you, but he finds the time to coach the girls.”

  “I might think that was a very generous way for him to spend his free time if I hadn’t seen the way he touched some of the girls, including our daughter.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He’s a phony, Melony. His hands were everywhere, including around Abigail’s shoulders. He had the team in a huddle, and I saw his thumb brushing against her bare neck. I didn’t like it.”

  Melony stiffened. “I’m sure you’re imagining things.”

  “I hope for Abigail’s sake that you’re right.”

  He grabbed his car keys from the top of the dresser.

  “Where are you going now?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I have time.” She released a heavy sigh. “Are you seeing someone, Ben? Because if you are, I want you to tell me right now. I don’t want to hear it from Susan or Diane across the street.”

  Ben stared at her, shaking his head. An affair? He had to hold back any amusement he was feeling because judging by the look on her face, she was serious. He slipped the keys into his pants pocket, walked up to her, and put his hands on her waist. “There has never been anyone but you. Not now. Not ever. I love you.”

  She rested her head against his chest, and for a long moment they stood silently breathing each other in.

  Ben was the first to speak. “I need to talk to Jessie Cole about her sister, Sophie.”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  “I haven’t been completely truthful with her, and it’s weighing on me.”

  “You’ve been holding things inside. That’s not healthy, Ben. Jessie Cole isn’t the only one you need to open up to.”

  “You’re right, but I need you to be patient with me for a little while longer. Jessie needs to know the truth about her sister. I’ve learned things about Sophie Cole. Things that Jessie won’t want to hear. She doesn’t trust me as it is, but my conscience won’t allow me to keep what I know from her any longer.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Go, then, and get this over with so I can spend time with my husband.”

  He kissed her on the forehead, and then both cheeks, and finally the mouth. “Our anniversary is coming up soon. What do you think about a week in Hawaii?”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but he put a finger over it. “No kids,” he said. “Just the two of us.”

  “Money is tight and—”

  “We’ll make do. You deserve to be pampered.”

  “We’ll talk later,” she said. “Hurry home.”

  It was six o’clock by the time Ben found a parking spot and made his way to Jessie’s house. He knocked, heard the dog bark, then looked up and saw Olivia looking out the window at him.

  He waved, then watched her disappear. Until he heard the pitter-patter of feet coming down the stairs, he wasn’t sure if she had recognized him. When she opened the door, it was clear she was upset about something.

  “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

  “I can’t find Jessie. She left a message telling me she’d be home soon, but that was hours ago. I’ve called everyone I can think of, but nobody knows where she is.”

  Higgins barked as someone walked by, so Ben stepped inside and shut the door. The phone rang. Olivia left him to run back to the main part of the house. By the time he reached the top step, she was hanging up the phone.

  “Wrong number.”

  “Why don’t you tell me exactly what’s going on. Did you try calling her cell phone?”

  “A dozen times. There’s no answer. I think she turned her cell phone off, and she never does that.”

  “Did you check the office down the street?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay, let’s back up a bit. Before you left for school, did Jessie tell you anything at all about what her plans for the day were?”

  “No, not really, but I can guess. She’d been spending most of her time on the Zee Gatley case.”

  “Is that the missing girl?”

  Olivia nodded. “She told me this morning that she’d had a breakthrough.”

  “What sort of breakthrough?” he asked, hoping Jessie would walk through the door at any moment.

  “It’s sort of complicated.”

  “Try me.”

  “When Jessie was at Zee’s house, she found a shoe box full of her possessions under the bed. On Saturday morning, we were sorting through the things in the box when we saw a picture of Zee wearing some funky sunglasses. In the lens we saw a man’s reflection. Jessie had the picture blown up, and we went to Zee’s neighborhood and asked people if they recognized the man in the photo.”

  “Any luck?” he asked.

  “No, not until last night when we drove back to Zee’s house and ran into one of the neighbors. She told us her brother recognized the guy in the picture. He said his name was Forrest Bloom, and he grew up on a farm somewhere in Woodland.”

  “And you think that’s where Jessie might have gone today?”

  Olivia wrinkled her nose. “I just know Jessie was working on trying to find out where he lives now, and when I asked her about it this morning, she said that his family had sold the farm.” Olivia walked to the kitchen, grabbed a notebook, and held it up for him to see. “I found this earlier. It’s an address in Woodland, but I have no idea if it has anything to do with Forrest Bloom or where Jessie might have gone.”

  He made note of the address on his phone, then wrote his cell-phone number on the same pad of paper. “It’s still early, and I’m sure Jessie is fine, but I’m going to drive to Woodland and see what I can find out, okay?”

  “Really?”

  He smiled. “I wrote my number there for you to call if Jessie returns.”

  She nodded.

  “What kind of car does she drive?”

  “A dark-green Jeep Grand Cherokee. Older model.”

  “Got it. I’ll call you in an hour to check in.”

  She nodded again. “There is one more thing I think you should know before you go.”

  H
e waited.

  “Zee’s dad, Arlo Gatley, was arrested.”

  “Why?”

  “Jessie noticed that Zee was wearing a necklace in the picture Arlo Gatley gave her of his daughter. The necklace looked exactly like the one that belonged to one of the twin girls recently found dead.”

  The news stunned him. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. There’s just so much crazy stuff going on. First Jessie was attacked, and now she’s missing. I’m scared.”

  “Okay,” he said, trying not to let her see his concern. “Lock the door behind me. Call me if you hear from Jessie.”

  As he drove off, he couldn’t help but worry about Jessie. Had her car broken down? Maybe her cell phone ran out of batteries, and she would be home at any moment. He tried to tell himself that there was no reason to get worked up.

  But why had Jessie called hours ago to tell Olivia she’d be home soon?

  He had no idea what was going on, but seeing Olivia and hearing the worry in her voice made him step hard on the gas, keeping a keen eye on the road in front of him, hoping he’d see Jessie’s broken-down car on the side of the highway.

  FORTY-THREE

  Jessie woke to the smell of urine and rotten eggs. Her head throbbed. Her vision was blurry. When she tried to move, she realized her hands were fastened behind her back, tied to a wobbly wooden chair.

  Her gaze darted around the room, but it was dark, and all she could see were shadows. Her heart raced as she took in her surroundings. Two crudely made cells and another room with a door that was secured with a thick chain and a padlock. A movement in one of the cells caught her attention.

  What was that? “Who’s there?” Jessie asked.

  “My name is Zee Gatley. Who are you?”

  “Zee?”

  “Do you know me?”

  Jessie’s heart raced. “Your father hired me to find you.”

  Another shadow caught her attention. In the cage next to Zee’s, a pale-skinned human on his or her hands and knees crawled to the middle of the cell, looking out as if to see what was going on. It was a woman. She looked as if she’d been starved. Her face was gaunt, her cheeks sunken.