Gabe followed him along a dark path by the light of their flashlights. The woods surrounding them were eerily quiet as though they were waiting. Gabe figured all the forest residents just didn't want the invading humans to discover where they lived. He didn't blame them. Too many hunters thought the park creatures were fair game, law be damned.
He was a little surprised when the sounds of talking came far to their right, well off the path. "What was he doing all the way over there?"
"He had his dog with him this morning, a big hulk of a Labrador. A squirrel ran across their path, and the chase was on."
Gabe grunted. "No leash, I take it."
Blake grinned back at him. "There was when we got here. Before that, who knows? Cherokee is a pretty good-sized dog. He could well have taken the man along for the ride."
"Wouldn't be the first time that happened," Gabe said. "Was the grave already uncovered or did the dog dig it up?"
The deputy made a sour face. "The dog did the honors. We figure the smell was coming through dang good. She wasn't buried deep."
Gabe sucked in a breath. "So it's a woman?" Maybe his initial instincts weren't so far off this time.
Blake nodded. "Well, more like a young girl. Looks like that girl that went missing last month over in Callum City. Remember the one who had a fight with her ex-con boyfriend and then up and moved out? Her purse was buried with her and her ID's still in it. Matches the body for height and weight. And she's wearing that charm bracelet her mom mentioned."
"I remember." So not Becca after all. Sorry, Colin, we won't be bringing your sister home today. "Send someone to pick up the boyfriend. Here's hoping they'll catch him still in bed. If he gets up in time to catch this on the news..."
"He'll be out of there faster than shit after sliders," Blake finished. "I got you covered, Sheriff. There's a man already on his way. And the boyfriend didn't strike me as an early rising type of person."
"Good man."
They pushed through another strand of close-growing evergreens and there was the shallow grave before them. His men were already setting up temporary lighting to help them secure any evidence that might be remaining. Not that they would need much. Billy Ray, the ex-con in question wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box.
He spent a few minutes verifying what his men had already found. Unless the perp had gotten really creative, and had access to the missing girl's purse, this was indeed the missing Callum City girl. At least her parents would be able to have closure now.
His talkie beeped, then a metallic sounding voice said, "Sheriff, thought you'd want to know the news woman is on her way in. She was slick this time and caught me distracted. Short of shooting her, there wasn't much I could do."
Even as the man signed off, Gabe heard the crashing through the trees coming towards them. Huge beams of light showing them the way. How is it that news people had more efficient flashlights than law enforcement, anyway?
He finished giving his men instructions on how to proceed and then turned to face the woman and her blasted camera.
The interview was as short as he could make it and he did everything but tell Colin on air that this wasn't his sister. He was hoping he got the message. Colin didn't deserve to fret about this all day.
Once he had the news crew on their way out, it was a short wait for the coroner's van. A brief meeting later and he was on his way back to the Sheriff's office. He wanted to be the one to question Billy Ray in person.
At least one missing girl had been found. And he was damn sure going to make Billy Ray pay. Funny, but that thought gave him little cheer.
He really wished it had been Becca in the grave and Colin would be the one getting the closure. It might not happen today, but Gabe wasn't going to rest until it did.
CHAPTER NINE: Chasing Clues (Colin)
I usually woke to the sound of the shower running down the short hall in Becca’s room. Joshua was an early riser, preferring to exercise before taking his shower and starting the day. Today, I woke to him shaking me.
"You really need to come watch this," he said. Being a morning person in the extreme, his solemn face told me that it had to be bad news.
Getting out of bed was something I really didn't want witnesses for, but Josh wasn't budging. Giving up, I struggled into a sitting position and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I wasn't a morning person at the best of times, and now that feeling was multiplied by about a thousand times. My stiff and battered body just didn't handle the task of rising in any kind of hurry.
Eventually, I made it to my feet and shuffled into the bathroom. Whatever it was I had to see wouldn't mind the extra few seconds it would take me to relieve my bladder.
I heard the television on in the living room as we made our slow way down the stairs. The local news was on. I glanced at the grandfather clock just as it chimed six.
"They've been giving clips of what's coming up on the news," Josh said. "Trust me, you want to hear this."
The local traveling news anchor was on the scene in a wooded area. I could barely make out a path behind her. Without the fake lighting the news crew, and possibly the police, had set up, it would have been a pitch-black area. The sun wasn't due up for a while.
I sat down and Joshua handed me a cup of coffee. He must have poured it before waking me. Thoughtful, thy name was Joshua Penbrook.
"We are reporting live from one of the many jogging paths here in Bloomington, an early morning tradition for many of our local residents. But today, Trent Goodwall's morning run with his dog, Cherokee, was interrupted by a gruesome discovery." The anchor woman turned to the side, motioning for the cameraman to follow her.
I held my breath as she walked up to Sheriff Green talking with some deputies. He saw her coming and stepped toward her, blocking her path and the view of the news cameras.
"I'd appreciate it if you would contain the filming to the path. This is a crime scene, and only authorized personnel are allowed past this point."
"No problem, Sheriff. Can you confirm Mr. Goodwall's statement that his dog found a shallow grave containing a human body?"
Gabe gave an exasperated look to someone off screen, my guess was the talkative Mr. Goodwall himself. "Yes, my men are currently waiting for the coroner. Then we will remove the body and it will be taken to the morgue for autopsy and examination. At this point, we don't know any more than that."
The microphone was pulled back to the anchor woman briefly. "Could the body be of the missing woman, Rebecca Shepard?"
The sheriff hesitated, giving the camera a look that somehow, I knew he meant for me and me alone. "The coroner and his forensic team will be the ones to answer that question," he said, "but in my honest opinion, I don't think so. Ms. Shepard has been missing for six months now. This body looks much... newer than that."
My body sagged back, the tension flowing out as I resumed my normal breathing. "It isn't her."
Joshua wasn't so sure. "He could be wrong. Weirdos have been known to freeze bodies and dispose of them later."
That was true, but I trusted the sheriff's opinion. I doubted he was wrong, but I was going to call him later this morning, anyway. Once the coroner and his team had worked their forensic magic.
No, after seeing the Sheriff on air, I was certain that the body they'd found wasn't Becca. In fact, I was becoming more and more certain that somehow Michael was behind her death. And Michael wouldn't have buried her in a shallow grave. If she was in a grave, you could bank on it being a deep one, and probably several counties away too. Michael was a bully, but he was in no way stupid.
Truthfully, he was downright smart about hiding his dirty handiwork. That I knew from personal experience.
But Becca and I were smarter. Somehow, someway she would have tried to tell me who was behind this. All I had to do was be smart and clever enough to sort out her clue. So what did I have to work with?
Michael was supposed to be at an out of town convention, and he had the credit card receipts to s
how that his card had been used hundreds of miles away on the night Becca met her end. Okay, so what other charges were on the card, and had the ones that were provided been verified by talking to other attendees at the convention? That might require a trip to Louisville, but that was doable. In fact, it sounded like a good weekend trip.
What else was I missing? Let's see, Mike and Joan only had one car as Joan wasn't all that into driving, preferring to be chauffeured wherever she went. But if he were going to be gone for a few days, surely he wouldn't have taken her only means of transportation?
That means he would have rented a car. That would have come in extremely handy to keep any trace evidence out of his own personal vehicle. Of course, after six months, the chances of any trace of Becca still remaining in a rental car was highly unlikely. Still, something to check out. Especially since with Mike’s alibi set with his credit card spending in Louisville, the sheriff probably had thought this train of thought a waste of time.
For me, it wasn’t. I was still betting on Becca having left a trail of breadcrumbs. It was just up to me to find them.
It was Wednesday and my day off from therapy, so I had the time to do some sleuthing. Gabe had been nice enough to copy the case files for me, but I didn't remember seeing the credit card receipts or any mention of a rental car. There were only two rental agencies in town, so I decided to call them up.
Express Car Rental just happened to be owned and operated by my high school buddy, Frank, so I decided to start there. And as a close second thought, I went in person. It's harder to turn down a request for information to a person's face than over the phone.
I stopped by the local bakery and picked up a couple dozen donuts, one box for each agency, just to sweeten the deal. I wasn't quite as good at manipulation as Michael, but at least my form of bribery was a pleasant one. The carrot rather than Michael's preferred stick method.
Pulling into the rental parking lot, I took a quick look around at the vehicles they offered. There were a lot of Lincolns, and even the odd Cadillac or two sprinkled among the more everyday Fords and Chevys. This could well have been Mike's place of choice. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't see him behind the wheel of a workman's car. No, the Cadillac was much more his style.
The agency itself was nothing more than a single wide mobile home that had been transformed into an office. Convenient if you ever had to move your office. Opening the door, I was assaulted by an overly strong smell of cinnamon. I like cinnamon, but dang. This was definitely overkill to the senses.
Once inside I saw the source. There were a dozen cinnamon brooms, the decorated kind that you hang on your wall to make your home smell nice, piled on a table and surrounded by three people with wrapping paper in hand.
"How the hell are we supposed to wrap these darn things?" Frank was saying as I stepped in.
I grinned. "Boxes, maybe?" I suggested.
Frank whirled around to me, then came over with his arms out. I'd forgotten Frank was a hugger. Before he got to me I held up a hand, slowing his approach. "Be gentle. My back is still healing."
His face fell, and he dropped his arms.
"I didn't say I wasn't up to a hug, but just a little one. None of your bone crushing bear hugs, okay?"
His arms circled me gently. "It's good to see you, Colin. We missed you around here. When did you get back in?"
"Last Thursday," I said as he stepped back from his greeting. "I've been pretty preoccupied since I got back, and I have to admit, my visit has an ulterior motive." I grinned. "But I brought donuts, so I hope that's okay."
He glanced down at my hands and saw the bakery box. "Whatever you want, it's yours, if one of the donuts in that box is raspberry filled."
"Would I forget your favorite?" Not likely, since it was my favorite as well.
As Frank grabbed a donut, he spoke over his shoulder to the others still standing around the very fragrant brooms. “Justin, go down to the store and pick up a dozen boxes to put those things in. Be sure to measure them first, so you know the size to buy.” He gave me an apologetic grin. “Sorry for the overwhelming cinnamon smell in here. We’re putting together our annual gifts for our loyal corporate clients.”
"Yes, sir." Justin gave me a grateful glance as he passed me out the door.
"Now let’s go back to my office and catch up over donuts and coffee." Frank led me down the short hallway, past the bathroom, and into his office. It was originally designed to be a bedroom, but it made a nice sized office. Plenty large enough to hold his desk, a couple of tall filing cabinets and a couch against the wall.
He saw me glancing at the oversized sofa and gave me a wink. "For those nights when Bets kicks me out of the house."
I laughed. "Happen often, does it?"
Frank grunted. "Often enough. Pretty much every Friday night after poker, I just camp out here. Better for both of us."
He settled into his desk chair and I sat in one of his visitor's chairs opposite him. "Now what could you possibly want from a car rental agent? You can take your pick of vehicles and I'll give you one hell of a discount over retail rates."
"Nah, my car is running just fine. I was actually hoping you could give me some information."
His face clouded. "What kind of information?"
I told him, and he listened intently. "You really think Michael had something to do with Becca going missing?"
Hesitating probably a bit too long to be believable, I replied, “No, not really. But right now there just aren't any clues as to what happened, so I'm following up on where everyone was and what they were doing.” Then I gave him my very best evil smile. “But, as you know, Michael is not exactly my favorite person, so what better place to start?”
Frank laughed. “You got a point.” He hesitated. “I know our records aren’t as confidential as medical and legal shit, but still I probably shouldn’t be doing this.” He stood up and walked over to the filing cabinets as he spoke. “But if you agree to get proper, oh say, warrants should anything come of this information before making it public, I don’t see the harm.”
“Deal. If Mike’s rental leads to anything, I’ll have the Sheriff subpoena your records. He would need to anyway for the courts.”
He pulled a file out, glanced through it and pulled out a couple of sheets of paper, frowning at them. He took a couple of steps over to the copier and copied them and then handed me the copies, replacing the originals back into the file.
“The bank does a considerable business with us. Conventions, road trips, etc., and according to this Michael did rent our Cadillac Seville for the weekend your sister vanished. He was supposed to return it the following Monday, but we didn’t actually get it back until Wednesday. He kept it another two days.”
“That’s odd. He would have been back in town by then, especially when the news hit about Becca. Why would he have needed to keep the car?”
Frank shrugged. “There isn’t any note other than that he called and requested the vehicle an additional two days.”
My heartbeat quickened, and I had to struggle not to show my growing excitement. This was something, I just knew it.
Standing, I held out my hand to Frank. “Thanks, buddy. I promise I’ll keep you legal.”
He took my hand in a firm grip. “Be sure you do. The bank is one of our better customers. Not that I really think they’d complain too much about an information breach. Like I said, renting a car isn’t exactly highly confidential information.”
No, but using it to dispose of a dead body might be. Of course, I didn’t say that.
I really needed to talk to Gabe.
Frank insisted on giving me one of the fragrant brooms on my way out, and I loaded it into my trunk. The last thing I wanted was a car that smelled like Frank’s office. I figured I’d put it in my kitchen. After all, cinnamon was a great smell for a kitchen. And ours should be large enough to handle the scent from just one broom. I’d never realized just how potent those things really were.
&nbs
p; Loaded back in my car, I had a decision to make. A quick glance at the clock told me it was almost noon, and that gave me an idea.
I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Gabe’s number.
“Hey, Colin,” he answered. “You took longer to call than I’d thought.”
“Yeah, I saw you on the news this morning. I figured you must have had good reason to think it wasn’t Becca.”
“I did. It isn’t her, Colin. She’s still out there somewhere. But we’ll find her.”
“About that,” I said. “Have you had lunch yet? I need to ask a favor of you and I figure the least I can do is bribe you with lunch.” After all, see what a dozen donuts got me?
“I could eat. Where are you thinking? I’m hoping not fast food. I’ve been eating way too much of that lately, and I need to trim back so’s I can keep my boyish figure.”
I grinned at the phone. Believe me, I’d noticed that figure plenty. “We wouldn’t want you losing that, now would we? How about the oriental buffet? Or we could make it the new Italian restaurant that opened while I was gone. I’ve been wanting to give it a try.”
“They serve a mean lasagna. How long will it take you to get there?”
“Depends. Where are you now?”
“The office. Just got through booking someone.”
“Remember those credit card receipts you said Mike provided? I don’t suppose you could bring them along? They weren’t in the files.”
There was a brief pause. “Sure,” Gabe said slowly. “What are you thinking?”
“I’ll tell you at lunch. But there is one more thing.”
“What’s that?” He sounded a bit wary.
“I don’t suppose you could get your hands on Mike’s credit card statement for that month could you? I’d like to see where else that card might have been used in that time period.”
“Huh,” Gabe said. “I’d had the same thought. I just got it this morning. I’ll bring that along too.” There was another brief pause. “Colin? Don’t go getting too deep in this, okay? Just let me do my job.”
All About Zane (Travis County Legal Book 1) Page 7
