Without a Trace
Page 14
As soon as I clicked on it, it prompted me to enter a username, password, and promo code. I clicked the “set up a new account” option in small print at the bottom, then laid back on my bed as I waited for it to load. This is stupid. I don’t want to knit. And I don’t want to chat with Rachel or her prissy friends. Period. The only reason I was doing it now was to get Martin off my back.
I had to choose a username and set up a password. I thought for a few moments. I didn’t have too many passwords anymore. I didn’t have accounts on social media and I stopped checking my email years ago. None of it was worth it with Martin around, questioning my every move and motive.
Finally, I decided on PrettyPeaches for my username and my childhood phone number for my password. Within seconds, I was into the site. Eyes wide with fear, I looked over at Martin and then back down at the screen, stunned by what I found there…
CHAPTER THIRTY
The Cop
ELLIE
For lunch hour, the rundown dining room in McDonald’s was deserted. I sat across from Detective Cummings, unable to touch my fish fillet as he opened a file folder of photos.
“Her husband reported her missing on Saturday, the 19th. She went out for a run in Deer Place Park, and never came home.” He pushed a photo across the table to me.
“Who is she?” I asked, staring at a woman with beautiful black hair and bright blue eyes. She looked to be around thirty years old.
“A local woman. Rachel Coffey. Her husband’s name is Gil. He’s a mess right now.”
“Unfortunately, this is not the same woman I’m looking for. But we are investigating Martin Nesbitt. He and his wife live on Meadow Lane and she went missing. Before that, though, she reported her daughter missing. Mr. Nesbitt claims she’s crazy and controlling, and that they don’t have any children. Why do you think the cases are related, besides the fact that two of your citizens are missing? Is Ms. Coffey connected to Mr. Nesbitt somehow?” I asked, my eyes fluttering back down to the photo.
“I was just over at Gil and Rachel’s apartment this morning, checking out her contacts and searching for signs of foul play onsite. I wrote down all the names and addresses I could find in her appointment book. Now, I didn’t pay much attention to the actual names, figuring I’d look over them when I got back to the office. But one of the names was a little strange, so it stood out a bit. Nova. No last name, no phone number or address. But imagine my surprise when I got back, and my assistant told me there was an out-of-town officer here, asking for an arrest report on someone named Nova Nesbitt and that a warrant had been issued to search her home.”
“That can’t be a coincidence,” I said, soaking my fries in barbeque sauce.
“Exactly.” Officer Cummings plucked up a fry. I watched him chew, my stomach twisting in knots, and I told him everything I knew about Nova’s case. Was Rachel Coffey the missing link? Was she involved with Nova in some way?
“So, the husband denies having a daughter? What about a birth certificate, some sort of medical history on file?” he pressed.
“That’s one of my next steps. I called several local dentists and doctors this morning and she’s not a patient there. It’s almost like neither mother nor child existed, like he kept them hidden away.”
“I don’t know Nova Nesbitt. Of course, I don’t know everyone in this town, but still. The name doesn’t ring a bell. His name, though, the husband’s…I’m very familiar with Martin. His face is on billboards and benches, that steely smile advertising his realty business.”
“Something about that man gives me the creeps. He seemed so polished and rational when we first spoke, but the moment I was alone with him, his entire demeanor changed. What did you say Rachel did for a living?” I picked up my sandwich and mushed it around in barbecue sauce too. Chewing even the softest bread made my teeth ache.
Officer Cummings smiled. “She’s a midwife.”
My eyebrows shot up.
“Exactly,” he said again. “What are the chances that you got a missing woman and child, and a husband who denies the child exists, at the same time a local midwife goes missing? What if Nova’s daughter doesn’t exist on paper because Rachel Coffey delivered the baby in her home?”
“But isn’t there still paperwork to be filed? You still get a birth certificate for a baby born at home,” I wondered aloud.
“Yes, but there are forms to fill out. What if that was never done?”
“It’s possible. But we searched his place and didn’t find anything, besides a pair of girl’s tennis shoes that we suspect Lily had on when he took her.” My thoughts drifted back to my conversation with Sergeant DelGrande about the other truck. That still confused me. “Did Rachel Coffey or her husband drive a black pick-up truck?”
Officer Cummings frowned. “I don’t think so. They both drive SUVs.”
“Any reason to suspect this woman’s husband was involved? Gil?” I pressed.
“Well, you never know, but I got the sense that he was absolutely devastated when she went missing. He’s called me every couple hours since it happened, wanting constant updates. This connection with the Nesbitts is the first lead I’ve had so far. What about luminol at Martin’s apartment? We used it in Rachel’s loft this morning but came up with nothing. It doesn’t appear as though she met with foul play there.”
“It’s worth a shot,” I said, knuckling my tray aside. “If you take me to Gil, I’ll take you to Martin. Deal?”
He smiled. “Deal.”
***
I followed Officer Cummings’s blue Sedan as he pulled out of the McDonald’s parking lot. My phone was buzzing in my center console, so I slid my Bluetooth on and answered. I’d been hoping it was the sergeant again, so I could update him, but it was Chad.
“Guess where I am?” he asked, his voice too bubbly for my current mood. I was focused, adrenaline pumping through my veins and my jaw flexing, uncontrollably. I couldn’t prove Martin had kidnapped his wife and daughter, but I felt like I was getting closer. Luminol might reveal something, anything, even if it was just a connection to the other kidnapping. And maybe Gil knew Nova Nesbitt and could offer some insight into this woman I’d only met once.
“Are you there?” Chad cut into my thoughts.
“Yes! Sorry. Where are ya?”
“I’m standing in front of your hotel. I’m here to help with the case. I figured you needed someone here and I thought I’d look at those cell phones for you.” I could hear the smile in his voice.
“Chad, you’re a life saver. But I won’t be there for a while. We’re heading over to talk to the husband of another missing local woman, and then to the Nesbitt residence to see what we can find using luminol. Want to meet me at the Nesbitts’ in an hour or so?” I asked, hoping he’d say yes.
“Who’s ‘we’?”
“Officer Brad Cummings. A local midwife has gone missing, and she’s connected to Nova somehow. I think she might have been Nova’s midwife. Maybe the only person who knew about Lily’s existence.”
“You think Martin killed her to shut her up? If she was the only one who knew about Lily and he’s the one that took her, then that’s motive,” Chad gushed. Suddenly, his chipper demeanor was starting to rub off on me.
“Yes, it is! I just want to find these women and figure out what they’re hiding, and why.”
“Tell me the address and I’ll meet you there in an hour,” he said.
I told him where the Nesbitts lived and hung up, just as Officer Cummings turned into a residential neighborhood. He parked at the curb of a rundown, but clean, apartment complex called Fountain Square.
I followed him into the building and up two flights of stairs. An attractive man wearing a running suit answered the door. Despite his neat appearance, his face was a mess. His eyes looked red and dry, and I realized he’d clearly been crying recently.
“Hi, Mr. Coffey. I’m Officer Ellie James. May we come in?”
Gil shot a confused look at Officer Cummings, but then o
pened the door and let us both in. I quickly explained to him that I was investigating another missing person case, one that may be linked to his wife.
“She didn’t discuss her patients with me. She was always very discrete and professional. It frustrated me sometimes…but Martin Nesbitt? I know who he is. In fact…”
“What is it?” Officer Cummings asked, leaning toward him.
“I don’t think my wife liked him much. She was always making noises and rolling her eyes when we passed his signs he advertises his business on. I asked her once what she had against the guy, but all she said was: ‘He just looks like an asshole to me’.”
Officer Cummings and I exchanged hopeful glances.
“Is it possible that your wife and Nova were friends, and that’s why she wasn’t crazy about Martin Nesbitt? Could she have possibly been one of your wife’s clients? Officer Cummings saw her name in your wife’s schedule book,” I said.
Gil frowned. “If Nova’s name was in her book, then she definitely saw her as a client or met with her for something work-related at some point. Because Rachel kept her close friends’ names and numbers stored in her cell phone only.”
I looked over at Officer Cummings. He shook his head. “There was nothing in her phone so far about a person named Nova.”
Disappointed, I looked around the neat apartment, trying to gain a sense of who Rachel was.
“If your wife delivered a baby in someone’s home, would she file the paperwork needed to get a birth certificate?”
Gil nodded. “Absolutely. Rachel loved her clients and always tried to accommodate their individual birth plans and personal needs, but she was a stickler for paperwork and following the law.”
“Even if Nova or Martin asked her not to…?”
Gil was staring over my shoulder, his eyes fuzzy. When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw what he was looking at: a wedding photo of himself and the same black-haired beauty in the photo Officer Cummings had shown me.
When I looked back at him, his eyes were focused on me again.
“She wouldn’t do that, but…well, there is one way that a child can be born and not require a birth certificate. But it would require the mother giving birth completely on her own, without medical assistance. My wife was familiar with this and explained it to me one night. I think she knew someone who delivered her own baby…maybe that was Nova. But why would they both go missing? Do you think someone kidnapped them? Could Martin Nesbitt be involved…if so, I’ll kill him myself!”
Officer Cummings stepped in and reassured Gil, while I thanked him and saw myself out. Back in my cruiser, I left a voicemail for Sergeant DelGrande, updating him on the other missing woman.
***
When I pulled up at the Nesbitt residence, I was surprised to see Mike and Roland there.
“Where’ve you been? Did you forget we were your partners when you left this morning? We had to take an Uber to get over to the lab, and another to get back here,” Roland barked.
“I’m sorry, guys.” I updated them on Rachel Coffey.
“Any news from the lab yet?” I asked.
Mike shook his head. “Not yet but they’re working on it.” I gave him the keys to the cruiser, so they could get back and forth from the lab.
I was relieved to see Chad pulling in. He was smiling, his cheeriness contagious. I caught myself smiling despite myself. It felt good, having a co-worker that seemed to trust me and wasn’t hung up on the Clark shooting.
Officer Cummings approached us, his mocha hair blowing back in the wind. He was wearing navy blue slacks and a white polo. He took the lead as we knocked on Martin’s door. For some reason, I expected him not to be home.
If he’s guilty, why hasn’t he tried to take off and leave town yet? I wondered.
Maybe he’s just that arrogant, I considered. I thought back to our first meeting yesterday. When the other officers were out of the room, his personality seemed to change, and not for the better.
“Hello again, officers!” Martin threw open the door, wearing a cheesy smile that probably looked like the one plastered on his business card. He was shirtless with a wet towel on his head.
“Mr. Nesbitt, I’m Officer Brad Cummings. Granton Police. We need you to step outside for a minute, please, and afterward, we need to talk.”
I expected him to put up a fight or ask questions, but he just rolled his eyes and tossed his towel onto the hallway floor. “Suit yourself.”
Cummings had a small kit in his hands that looked like a fisherman’s tacklebox.
“You ready?” he asked me. I stepped inside the apartment, instantly feeling lighter now that Martin was no longer inside it. That man just had a tension about him, something I couldn’t define…
The apartment looked neat and tidy, the same as it had yesterday. Today, without Martin hovering around me, I walked around looking at the few mementos the couple had while Officer Cummings prepared the luminol.
I’d learned about luminol at the academy but had never been involved in a case where it was used. When Sergeant DelGrande had told me they used luminol in the cabin while I wasn’t there, I’d been a little disappointed. Today, I was excited to use it for the first time in my career, even under these circumstances…
“So, refresh my memory: we can still see blood, even if it was cleaned up, right?”
“Yes. Even if it’s been years since the incident occurred, it will still react with the iron in hemoglobin, which is a protein in our red blood cells,” Cummings explained.
“Good. I want to find something that we can use to nail this prick.” My eyes slid over the Nesbitts’ wedding photo. I zeroed in on a photograph of the couple that had been taken in the living room. It was obvious that Martin had been the one to take the photo because there was a sliver of his right arm in the far-right frame. Nova’s smile looked perfect but practiced.
“Is it just me, or is there a funny tint to her face, like she’s wearing more makeup on one side?”
Officer Cummings was kneeling down on the floor, unloading a professional-looking camera and spray bottle. He squinted up at the picture on the wall. “Can’t tell from here.”
“Sort of looks like she was covering up a bruise…” I lamented. Suddenly, I noticed something in the background of the photo beside it. Behind Martin and Nova, I could see the blond wood flooring that lined their living room. There they were—tiny landmines. A stack of blocks in the corner. Scattered Lego pieces on the floor. And on the window sill, a rubbery doll that might have been a Barbie.
“Bingo.” I took the picture down from the wall and slid the picture out of it. It wasn’t much, in terms of evidence, but it was something. Something to show that Nova and Martin weren’t the only ones living inside this apartment. It was the first actual evidence of a child being inside one of their houses, and it was a relief to see it there.
“What do you think he did with her stuff? The little girl’s?” I asked, watching Officer Cummings double-checking the film on the Polaroid camera.
“Not sure. But there’s a landfill less than twenty miles from here. Maybe we could look there.”
“How can I help you guys?” Chad asked, hands folded neatly behind his back.
“Are you good at taking pictures? This stuff only lasts a half hour. If we do get some sort of result, we’ll need to get plenty of shots with this.” Officer Cummings held up the camera.
Chad nodded and took the camera, then Officer Cummings handed me the spray bottle.
“Where do you think we should start?” Officer Cummings asked.
“Might as well start in there,” I said, pointing toward the living room.
I started spraying the wood floor and walls. “Furniture too?” I asked him.
“Everywhere.”
By the time I was done, the entire living room was coated with luminol. Officer Cummings closed the drapes and flipped out the lights, making the apartment as dark as a tomb.
Immediately, parts of the floor glowed blue.
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“Bingo,” Cummings whispered.
There was blood, blue splatters spread out over five small sections in the living room by the coffee table.
“It’s not a ton of blood, but it’s still blood,” he said. He pointed at a dry spot on the floor “Spray more here.”
I sprayed more, creating a skinny blue streak that stopped before the kitchen.
“He attacked her in the living room. Maybe even dragged her toward the kitchen. All the way to the door. It could be Rachel’s blood or Nova’s…or even Lily’s…” Officer Cummings hushed.
“Are you getting pictures of this?” I glanced over at Chad.
His face was whiter than usual. Like me, he was new and young to the force, and probably hadn’t seen many scenes like the ones we’d recently encountered.
“Oh yeah.” He lifted the camera and started snapping.
Next, I went into the kitchen, hall, and bedroom, but didn’t find anything there. The only room left by then was the bathroom. I flipped the bathroom lights out and started spraying. At first, I thought there was nothing, but then I reached the tub.
My eyes widened as the first letter appeared in blue on the wall. I kept spraying until the entire message was revealed. “Hurry, Chad! Get in here,” I shout-whispered.
Officer Cummings was the first to pop his head through the door. “My god,” he said, looking at the twenty-five-letter message on the wall above the bath tub.
Chad came in behind him and gasped. He snapped photos as the words floated on the back of my tongue, making my mouth water with vomit: MARTIN IS GOING TO KILL US. – NOVA, was written in blood on the wall.
“She wrote that in her own blood. Even while dying, she wanted to make sure he got caught,” I said. But did it seem too easy, too obvious…? She obviously wanted to leave this behind for the police to find, but why? Was she murdered here or could she really have staged the whole thing? For the first time, I started to wonder if Sergeant DelGrande was right. Could this all be a decoy?