by Cindi Myers
She sped away to place their orders and talk to another waitress, who was just hanging up her apron behind the counter. The older woman glanced in their direction, but seeing that it was Jackson, smiled and waddled over. She was at least six or seven months pregnant.
When she approached, Jackson popped up from his seat and offered it to her, but she waved him off. “If I sit down, I may never get up again,” she said with a tired laugh, laid a hand at her waist and stretched.
Jackson chuckled and slipped back into the booth. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a photo of Selene, which jerked a puzzled look to Judy’s face. The pregnant waitress looked from the photo to Rhea and back to the photo. Rhea explained.
“She’s my twin sister. She disappeared six months ago.”
Judy nodded. “I remember. Her photo was all over the papers and on the news.”
“Were you working that night?” Jackson asked.
Judy nodded. “I normally work those late shifts. Lets me be home for the kids during the day. She wasn’t in any night that I was working.”
“You sure?” Jackson pressed and slipped the photo back into his shirt pocket.
Judy tightened her lips and wagged her head. “Very sure. We don’t get that many people late at night during the fall months. More in the summer and winter. If I’d seen her, I would have contacted you back then.”
“Thanks, Judy,” he said.
Rhea parroted his words. “Thank you. We appreciate it, and good luck with the new baby.”
“Thank you, and hang in there. You’re in good hands,” Judy said with an incline of her head in Jackson’s direction.
“I know,” she said as Judy waddled out of the restaurant.
At that moment, Melissa returned with their orders, and Rhea understood why Jackson’s dish had been called the Rocky Mountain wrap. The wrap was huge and piled high with french fries, gravy and cheese. Not that her eggs were much smaller. A big pile of scrambled eggs were topped with fresh salsa and cotija cheese, and the smells...
Her stomach rumbled from the aromas of spice, fresh cilantro and the earthiness of the coffee.
“These are gut busters,” she said, but dug into her eggs.
“Perfect,” Jackson said with a wink and likewise forked up some of his wrap because it was way too big to eat with his hands.
Hunger tamped down any discussion for several minutes, but Rhea realized she’d never be able to finish. There was way too much food, no matter how tasty it was.
Jackson seemed to have no such problem as he continued chowing down. She hated to interrupt his enjoyment of the meal, but after Judy’s comments, she’d been wondering where else Selene might have stopped the night she disappeared.
“My sister loves her coffee. If she was in a hurry, but tired, she might have stopped for a shot of caffeine to keep her going.”
Jackson nodded. “It is another hour and a half to Denver, so that makes sense. We’ll try the coffee shop next while we wait for the cell phone location information.”
Rhea leaned back into the booth cushion and rubbed her belly, which she was sure was at least an inch bigger thanks to the delicious breakfast. “I feel like I need a nap and we just woke up,” she said with a laugh.
Jackson grinned and chuckled. “I know what you mean, but I can’t say no to the Rocky Mountain wrap,” he said and kept on eating while she sat there, watching him and thinking about where else her sister may have stopped.
If Matt had attacked Selene, had she had fought back? If she had done that, had she been hurt? Had she stopped at an urgent care facility or a pharmacy for some supplies? Rhea wondered. All places for them to check, and she knew Jackson had placed the big chain pharmacy on his list. She felt confident that Jackson had things under control. That she was in good hands, as Judy had said.
And such nice hands, she thought, as he laid down his knife and fork when he finished his meal. She was a sucker for hands, and she had to admit that his touch, so comforting and strong, stirred intense emotions within her.
He raised his hand and signaled for Melissa to bring over the check.
“Let me,” Rhea said, and Jackson was about to argue with her, but apparently seeing her determination, he demurred.
“Thanks, Rhea,” he said and laid his hand over hers.
Comforting and strong, she thought again and took hold of his hand. “I should be thanking you for offering your time. Your home. Your protection.”
* * *
JACKSON WANTED TO say again that it was his job, but that would be a massive lie. It had become so much more than that. But he had to maintain his objectivity, which had slipped more than once in the last few days. Because of that, he tried to adopt a neutral and professional tone as he said, “It’s what I had to do to help solve this case.”
Her hand jerked in his, obviously stung by his words and tone. She awkwardly drew her hand away and hid it beneath the tabletop. When Melissa brought over the check, Rhea barely glanced at it before placing her credit card on the plastic tray. Melissa swept by and snatched it off the table, clearly still in a huff.
Great, two women pissed at me, he thought. His cell phone vibrated and chirped in his pants pocket, and he drew it out to see a message from the desk sergeant.
Just emailed you info from cell phone company.
He texted back, Great. Thanks.
He swiped to open his email and smiled at the data the cell phone company had provided. Not only was there a spreadsheet for the week Selene had disappeared, the company had assigned one of their engineers to interpret the data.
Rhea was tucking her credit card back in her wallet when he said, “We have the info. I suggest we head to the police station to review it.”
“That’s good news,” she said and slipped out of the booth.
He followed Rhea to his cruiser. It took only a few minutes to reach the police station and settle themselves in the conference room. With a few commands, Jackson had the spreadsheet and analysis on a large monitor.
His police chief strolled by the room, then backtracked to enter. The older man gestured to the information. “Is that the cell phone data?”
Jackson nodded. “It is, and we also have a report that pinpoints where Selene and Matt were that week.”
With the laser pointer and mouse, Jackson reviewed the data and maps with Rhea and his boss. The information confirmed exactly when Selene had left Avalon, but more importantly, where she had stopped that night. The tracking continued after Selene’s message to Rhea, but since the cell phone had been left behind in the car, it told them little about what had happened after the text.
Still, the data showed that there had certainly been enough time for Matt to follow Selene and then return to Avalon.
“The Avalon police didn’t ask for Matt’s cell phone info because he supposedly forgot it at home that night,” he said, recalling the information they’d provided from their case file. He pulled up the report on Matt, which confirmed that his phone had been in Avalon the entire night.
“Too convenient,” Rhea said, and the police chief echoed her comment.
“The kind of thing someone does if they don’t want to be tracked,” he said.
“But his Jeep has a navigation system,” Rhea reminded them, only Jackson shook his head.
“Most NAV systems use a positioning system that’s only a one-way stream of data. But if he has something with a cellular connection, that provider might have that info. It’s something we’ll have to investigate further if this info doesn’t pan out,” he said and went back to the data on the screen.
“It looks like Selene stopped for gas right before she got to Regina,” he said.
“Just like we thought, since she left her house in a rush,” Rhea said, recalling their conversation of the day before.
“That’s our next stop. We’
ll see who was working that night and reach out to them.” Jackson moved on to the next stop that the cell phone company engineer had identified.
“She was at the pub for a good half an hour. Probably to get dinner,” Jackson said and frowned. “Not the best place for a woman alone.”
“Not unless she’s looking for a hookup. That is what you call it now, right?” the police chief said and glanced toward Rhea. “Sorry, ma’am. No offense intended.”
“None taken, but Selene isn’t that kind of woman. It makes me wonder why she would have stopped there.”
The police chief snapped his fingers and screwed his eyes upward, as if searching for something at the tip of his memory. “Isn’t the guy who owns that gas station buddies with the pub owners?”
Jackson searched his memory. “I think you’re right, Bill. They may even be related. Cousins, I think.”
“If the cousin was working he might suggest the pub if someone asks for a recommendation,” Rhea added to the discussion.
“Or he may tell his employees to suggest the pub,” the chief said. With a smile and a point of his finger at Jackson, he added, “Good work, Jax. Just remember what we discussed.”
With that, the chief pivoted and marched out of the room, leaving Rhea with a puzzled look on her face. Her eyes narrowed and settled on him, clearly expecting an explanation.
He hesitated, but Rhea deserved to know. “Nothing that embarrasses us or the Avalon PD.”
“And what if it does that? Are you willing to bury the investigation—”
“Have I done anything that would make you think that?” he challenged, a wildfire of anger rushing through him.
Demurely, seemingly chastised, she said in a soft tone, “No. You haven’t.”
“I made you a promise and I intend to keep it, Rhea. If you don’t trust me—”
“I do, Jax. I’m sorry that I suggested otherwise. It’s just...emotional for me, and I can’t be as objective as I should.”
“Neither can I, Rhea. You make me feel...” He jammed his hands on his hips and sucked in a breath. “We’ve finally got a solid lead and we need to keep our focus on this.” He circled the pub on the map with the laser pointer and then moved it to a location by the lake, the last spot on Selene’s journey.
Subdued, head slightly bowed, Rhea said, “I guess we hit the road to talk to some people.”
“We do. Are you ready?” The words seemed simple enough, but they were filled with many more questions. Was she ready to learn more about that night? Ready for possibly more disappointment?
So many questions, but at least now they had the data to continue to ask those questions. Thanks to Rhea, he thought.
She met his gaze directly, her chin tilted defiantly. A tight smile on her face. “I’m ready.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The gas station was a no-frills no-name location that survived due to a lack of competition. For anyone who had underestimated the distance to either Denver or any of the ski resorts to the west, the gas station was a last resort.
Jackson parked in front of the tiny market the station boasted. A patron can pick up some sodas or snacks, in addition to the gasoline, Rhea thought. The far side of the station housed several mechanic’s bays. As they stepped out of the car, a large mountain of a man clothed in grease-stained overalls ambled out of one of the bays. He wiped his hands with a cloth that wasn’t much cleaner and frowned as he saw Jackson.
“Detective,” he said when he approached, but didn’t hold his hand out. Instead, he held them up to show they were just too dirty for a handshake.
“Hannibal. Good to see you. How’s it going?” Jackson asked, totally at ease despite the hostile vibes she was sensing from the man.
“Got work and customers, but I don’t think you’re here to talk about that,” the man said. His voice was deep and with his longish brown hair and beard and large size, he reminded her of a bear, but not the cuddly type. The kind with sharp claws and teeth to tear you apart.
Jackson held his hands up as if in surrender. “Not here to create any problems. Just to ask a few questions.”
Hannibal shrugged. “Ask away. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
Which was just what she would expect someone to say if they did have something to hide.
“This is Rhea. Her twin sister, Selene, disappeared about six months ago, and we’ve got info that says she stopped here for gas,” Jackson said.
A careless shrug of Hannibal’s wide, thick shoulders was followed by, “I get lots of people stopping here for gas. I’d have remembered a looker like that.” His stare in her direction, very much a leer, left Rhea feeling dirty.
“Watch it, Hannibal,” Jackson warned. “Do you work the night shift?”
Hannibal shook his head. “Too old for that. Couple of local kids work the late shifts.”
Jackson nodded. “What about the pub? Doesn’t your brother own it?” he asked, puzzling Rhea, since she thought Jackson had said it was a cousin.
With another shake of his head and wipe of his hands with the dirty cloth, Hannibal said, “My cousin Drew, but he doesn’t do that at the pub.”
Do what? she wondered at the same time as Jackson asked the question.
“Girls. Slavery. That kind of stuff,” Hannibal answered, sending a shiver of fear through Rhea. While she hoped Selene was still alive, the thought of her having been trafficked...
“If someone asked for a recommendation for a restaurant—” Jackson began, but Hannibal quickly cut him off.
“I’d recommend the pub. Tell my boys to do the same. Family sticks together.”
Jackson paused, but then challenged Hannibal. “Does family stick together enough to hide a murder? Or a kidnapping?”
The other man obviously didn’t like the insinuation. “We’re done here, Detective. You want to talk to me or my boys again, call my lawyer.” Without missing a beat, the man walked away and back to the mechanic’s bay. A second later, the sound of metal striking metal told them he was back at work.
Jackson peered at her. “Time to hit the pub.”
* * *
THE OUTSIDE OF the pub was not quite what she expected for a place of supposedly ill repute. The parking lot and grounds surrounding the building were clean and the landscaping welcomed with colorful flowers and neat bushes. The cedar shake siding, trim and doors had a fresh coat of paint.
When they entered there were very few patrons, but a couple of people were eating a late breakfast. The biggest feature in the space was a large horseshoe bar that separated the dining area from a section boasting cocktail-height tables, a dance floor and an upraised stage.
The place smelled faintly of yeasty beer, fried eggs and bacon, with a lingering hint of disinfectant, as if the floors and other areas had just been cleaned.
They had no sooner entered when a thirtysomething bearded man approached, a broad smile on his face. He stuck his hand out to Jackson and said, “Jax, dude, how are you doing?”
Jackson took the man’s hand and pulled him in for a bro hug. “Marcus. What are you doing here?”
As the man stepped back from the embrace, he eyeballed Rhea and Jackson, as if to trying to figure out what they were doing together. “And you’re...?”
She offered her hand to the man, and he shook it, politely and almost gently. “Rhea Reilly. Jackson and I are investigating my sister’s disappearance.”
Marcus lost a little of his earlier effusiveness and dipped his head respectfully. “Sorry to hear about that, but what brings you here?”
“We have some questions, Marcus. Is there somewhere—” Jackson peered all around the restaurant to see who might be listening “—more private.”
Marcus nodded and swung his arm wide. “My office.”
Marcus led the way, with Jackson and her following. As they walked, Jackson said, “Your off
ice? You’re working here?”
Marcus looked over his shoulder and shrugged. “After those fights you busted up last summer, the owner decided he needed to restore some law and order, so here I am.”
Jackson explained for her. “Marcus used to be on the Regina police force, but decided to retire.”
They had reached the door to a back office, and Marcus unlocked it. They followed him down a hall past storage areas and a kitchen to an office at the farthest end of the hall. As he sat and invited them to join him, Marcus said, “Let’s be honest, Jax. I had an alcohol problem, but thanks to you I’ve been sober for over a year and I have a new chance at life. I’ve been the manager since last September.”
“I’m glad to hear that, but isn’t it hard for you to work here?” Jackson asked and held his hands wide in emphasis.
A quick, tense shrug answered him. “Not easy at times, but this was a great opportunity, and it’s been working as you may have noticed.”
Jackson nodded. “Haven’t been called out here for anything major.”
“Good. Let’s hope it stays that way. So how can I help you with your investigation?” Marcus leaned back in his chair, which creaked with the motion.
Jackson glanced at her, and she understood. “My sister may have been here the night she disappeared. We’re trying to figure out if she met anyone that night.”
Marcus shared an uneasy glance with Jackson before blurting out, “We get lots of women here, especially on the weekends. They come in for fun. Maybe meet someone.”
“Selene, Rhea’s sister, probably just stopped for dinner. She wasn’t here for more than about forty minutes,” Jackson said.
Marcus raised a brow as if to say it didn’t take long for what most women in the pub wanted, but he was gentleman enough not to say it. “I don’t know how we can help with more.”
Rhea pointed out his door to another office where she had noticed a number of monitors flashing images. “You have security cameras. Do you keep recordings from those cameras?”
