Missing

by Debra Webb

  “Anything we can do is better than nothing,” she murmured wearily.

  Jonathan hated the idea of dragging her around to interview the new list of persons of interest he’d developed. But he wasn’t about to leave her side. Not again. He’d taken that risk yesterday, but no more.

  “Where are we going first?” she asked as the elevator lit on the lobby level.

  “To see Johnny Ray Bruce.” After the way he had blackmailed Presley, Bruce was capable of most anything.

  Surprise flared in Melissa’s eyes. “Isn’t he still here, in the hospital?”

  Jonathan shook his head. “He was released last night.”

  She appeared to mull over the idea as they made their way to her car. When he opened the passenger door she hesitated before climbing inside. “Why are we talking to Johnny Ray?”

  “Good question.” He gestured for her to get in. When she did, he closed her door and moved around to the driver’s side. After settling behind the wheel and starting the engine, he explained, “Johnny Ray was with Presley that night. He must have picked her up and taken her home since her car remained at the house all night. That’s why the chief bought her story about not leaving home the night Polly disappeared.” One of Presley’s neighbors had confirmed that Presley’s vehicle was home that night.

  “True.” Melissa snapped her seat belt into place.

  “Johnny Ray may have seen something that felt irrelevant at the time but could be far more significant than he realizes.”

  In actuality, Jonathan intended to push him for information. He had known the Shepherd family his whole life. Maybe if something was going on between Harry and the chief’s wife, he would have heard about it. The guy struck Jonathan as the type to keep himself in the know about secrets—especially those people desperately wanted to hide. Considering the chief was his uncle, that knowledge could have proven particularly beneficial.

  “I hadn’t thought about that,” Melissa confessed. “I’m sure the chief didn’t question him since he was unaware that Presley left the house.”

  “We have a bit of an advantage,” Jonathan acknowledged. Presley’s coming clean may have given them the break they needed. His next stop after Johnny Ray’s place was Scott Rayburn’s office. “Did Rayburn have a secretary?”

  “He did. Frances O’Linger.”

  “Good. We’ll need to speak to her, as well.”

  Melissa turned to him. “You think she may know something?”

  It was a stretch, but it was definitely possible. “She may not know anything specific but she may have overheard a conversation or read a note.” Jonathan pulled out onto the deserted street. “Who knows, maybe Rayburn left a journal or notes on his delusions. We won’t know for sure unless we ask.”

  Melissa nodded. “Good points.”

  THE DRIVE TO JOHNNY RAY’S residence took less than ten minutes. His car sat in the driveway. If Jonathan was lucky the guy would be in a pain medication fog and considerably more cooperative.

  A couple of knocks were required to get Johnny Ray to open the door. He looked every bit as woozy as Jonathan had hoped. His face showed the evidence of a serious butt-kicking.

  Johnny Ray swayed forward and scanned the yard. He blinked, tried several times to focus on Melissa. “That brother of yours isn’t with you, is he?”

  “No,” Melissa said with absolutely no sympathy. “He’s out searching for his missing daughter.”

  “Oh.” Johnny Ray swayed back on his heels.

  “We need to speak with you in private,” Jonathan informed him.

  The man’s eyebrows hiked up his forehead. “I don’t know if I want you in my house.” He shook his head, staggered back a step for his trouble. “Those Shepherds are nothing but trouble for me. My uncle has already threatened to haul me in if there’s any more trouble.”

  Jonathan resisted the urge to tell him that he should have thought about that before he slept with another man’s wife, repeatedly. “We’ll only take a few minutes of your time. Your uncle isn’t going to find out.”

  “Whatever.” Johnny Ray turned around, braced against the wall for support and made his way to the nearest chair. “Have a seat.”

  His place was trashed. Not that it had been that organized or clean before, but this morning it appeared as if the man had had a party last night and the whole town had dropped off their dinner and drink remains in his living room.

  “What do you wanna talk about?” he asked when both Melissa and Jonathan were seated. “As if I didn’t know,” he added with a drunken eye roll.

  “The night Polly went missing,” Jonathan began, “you picked Presley up at the house, then dropped her off. Is that correct?”

  Johnny Ray bobbed his head up and down. “Will wasn’t home so she came right out the front door and went back in the same way.” He picked up a pack of cigarettes, dropped it, then picked it up again.

  “Approximately how long was she away from the house?” Jonathan felt Melissa fidgeting next to him. He hated for her to hear this, but he didn’t want her out of his sight for any reason.

  “An hour I guess. Maybe less.” Johnny Ray lit the cigarette and blew out a plume of smoke. He leaned forward and picked up a beer and chugged a long swallow. “We spent most of that time fighting.”

  “About what?” Jonathan waited patiently for him to set the can of beer back on the table and make eye contact. “About what?” he repeated.

  “The fact that she refused to tell Will the truth.” He shifted his attention to Melissa. “She’s been lying to him for years. I keep telling her to just do the right thing and end their farce of a marriage.”

  Fury tightened Melissa’s features. “You would know all about doing the right thing.”

  Johnny Ray stared at her, blinked, then turned to Jonathan. “You see. Even if I try to do the right thing I don’t get any respect.”

  Jonathan wasn’t going down that path. He’d come here to get answers not to tick him off and walk away with nothing. “Why doesn’t Presley want to do this thing you believe is right?” he asked. “Maybe she loves her husband.”

  “Yeah, right.” Johnny Ray snorted. “That would be why she likes doing it—if you know what I mean—with me more than she does him. She says there’s no passion between them,” he sneered.

  That Melissa didn’t throw something at the guy was a miracle. “So,” Jonathan ventured, “the two of you have continued to see each other the whole time Presley and Will have been married.”

  “Pretty much.” This time when he reached for the beer he knocked it off the table. He swore a few times, then kicked the can across the room and turned his attention back to his cigarette.

  “Did she say anything recently about wishing she’d never had Polly?”

  Melissa stared at Jonathan. Though he didn’t turn toward her he felt the heat of her glare on him. But the question was necessary.

  “Nah.” Johnny Ray put his feet on the coffee table. “She didn’t really want to be a mother, but she loves the kid the best she knows how.”

  “No other vehicles were parked near the house when you picked her up or dropped her off that night? You saw no sign of anything out of the ordinary?” Jonathan doubted the man had paid any attention, but this was the only way to find out. He insisted Presley had exited and then reentered the front door, yet the back door was the one found unlocked and open the next morning.

  Several tense moments elapsed with Johnny Ray mulling over the question. “Nope, I can’t say that I noticed anything. Most of the neighbors were probably in bed. I looked around for Will’s truck but I didn’t pay attention to anything else being out of place. I’d probably have noticed, though, since we were sneaking around, you know?”

  “Yeah.” Jonathan braced for an explosion from Melissa. She wasn’t going to like this one. “Has Presley ever mentioned William regretting having a child?”

  Surprisingly, Melissa sat stone still. Maybe she was in shock at his audacity.

  Johnny
Ray shook his head. “Will loves that kid more than he loves anything else—including Presley. She gets a little jealous about that sometimes.”

  Interesting. “Do you know of anyone else who would want to see William or Presley hurt?” If the missing child wasn’t for ransom or trafficking, there had to be another motive. Hurting the family was at the top of the list in Jonathan’s opinion.

  “Well,” Johnny Ray drawled, stretching out in his chair, “since you ask, I’d have to say Scott Rayburn.”

  “Scott Rayburn is dead,” Jonathan reminded him.

  “Yeah. Died at that old shack where the kid was being held, the way I heard it.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Melissa might not agree with me on this,” Bruce continued, “but I always knew that Rayburn had a thing for Will.” He gave Jonathan a knowing look. “You know the kind of thing I mean.”

  Jonathan nodded.

  “But this is a small town. Folks don’t go in for that, especially his momma and daddy. Rayburn wasn’t about to risk his inheritance.” He shoved his cigarette butt in the nearest beer can. “Frankly, I’m not surprised he was involved with this somehow. He would’ve liked nothing better than for Will and Presley to split up. With the kid out of the picture I guess he figured he’d have a better shot at making his lifelong dream come true.”

  “That is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard,” Melissa said, her voice tight.

  Jonathan imagined the real meltdown would come later, when they were out of Bruce’s house. She would let him have it then. “Are you speculating,” Jonathan pushed, “or do you have proof of this accusation?”

  “Let’s just say I noticed the way Rayburn looked at William. He idolized the guy.” Johnny Ray spat out another of those crude snorts. “Don’t for the life of me see why, but I know what I saw. Back in school some of us used to rib Will about his secret admirer.”

  “Then you believe Rayburn was in on the abduction,” Jonathan pressed.

  “Maybe, maybe not, but he damned sure knew about it. He couldn’t have walked right up on the holding place.”

  “What about Price?” Jonathan asked. “Do you believe Rayburn was working with Price?”

  “It’s doubtful,” Johnny Ray said with expanding self-importance. The drugs had obviously kicked in full gear. “Scott thought he was above working with what he considered lesser life forms. To him Stevie was pretty much a worm or something.”

  Melissa didn’t defend Price as she had before. Didn’t take a psychology degree to analyze her reason. Price had had something to do with Polly’s abduction.

  “Someone else was involved,” Jonathan went on. “The shooter who killed Rayburn and Price. Any guesses on that one?”

  “My uncle figures Rayburn shot Price, since the shotgun they found in the river belonged to him.”

  This was news to Jonathan. He wasn’t aware the weapon had been retrieved.

  Johnny Ray put his hand over his mouth. “I don’t think I was supposed to tell that to anyone.”

  What else was the chief holding out on them? “The chief keeps me fully briefed,” Jonathan lied. “You haven’t shared anything I didn’t know.”

  “Well then you know that old Stevie had a piece of Rayburn’s shirt clutched in his cold, dead hand. Them two most likely struggled before the gun fired.”

  More news. “That hasn’t been confirmed,” Jonathan said so as to sound knowledgeable of the details.

  “Maybe not,” Johnny Ray said, “but if my uncle said that’s the way it went down, then that’s the way it went down. He’s been doing this a long time. He knows his stuff.”

  “You can’t think of anyone else who might have wanted to hurt the Shepherd family?” Jonathan asked again.

  Johnny Ray shook his head. “Not a soul. The whole town seems to look up to the Shepherds. Don’t know why.” He leered at Melissa. “They aren’t that smart or that pretty.”

  Jonathan pushed to his feet. “I’ll come back if I think of any more questions.”

  Now he was the one ready to go off. Kicking the butt of a man already injured shouldn’t feel so appealing but Johnny Ray Bruce evidently could care less whom he angered. He likely assumed his uncle’s position would continue to keep him out of trouble with the law. But one of these days his mouth was going to get him killed. His uncle wouldn’t be able to get him out of that.

  Melissa walked ahead of Jonathan toward the car, her movements stilted. Once they were inside, with the doors closed, she held up both hands. “If I’d had a weapon, I think I would have killed that egotistical SOB.”

  Backing out of the drive, Jonathan suggested, “That would be letting him off too easily.” He didn’t mention that he’d had the same passing thought himself.

  “He’s out of his mind.”

  “Perhaps. Pain meds do that sometimes.”

  Melissa glared at him. He got it. She would know. He hadn’t needed to make that point.

  “You’re not buying his tale of unrequited love where Rayburn and Will are concerned?”

  “Not really, but we can’t rule it out, either.”

  Melissa made a sound that warned that he’d given the wrong answer.

  Jonathan set a course for Rayburn’s office. He’d already checked the address and determined the route. Knowing Melissa, he’d expected her to be angry with him, so he’d come prepared.

  “Surely you don’t believe him over me,” Melissa demanded when Jonathan failed to retract his statement.

  “In my experience,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t burn off any more of her pent up anger on him, “where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Rumors usually are seeded in some semblance of the truth.”

  She dropped her head back on the seat. “I don’t believe it at all. I never saw or heard anything to that effect.”

  “Do you know Ms. O’Linger?”

  “Yes.” She sighed. “She was my English teacher in high school. She retired a few years ago and started working with Scott.”

  “Why don’t you handle this one,” Jonathan suggested.

  “What am I supposed to ask?” Melissa didn’t sound enthused by the offer. “I’m certainly not going to ask her if she thought Scott had a crush on Will.”

  “The answers you need will prompt the questions.” That was Jonathan’s method. There was no reason to ask a question unless the answer would serve a purpose. “I don’t expect you to ask her about that part.”

  “Good. Because I won’t.”

  Having Melissa ask the questions of a former teacher might garner more answers. If nothing else, the effort would make Melissa feel more useful, lessening the likelihood that she would work up another head of steam. She was already going to be angry enough when they moved on to the third name on his list.

  MS. O’LINGER CRIED twice before Melissa and Jonathan were settled in Scott Rayburn’s office. The woman was beside herself with grief. She couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to hurt Scotty, as she called him. And he assuredly never had anything to do with Polly’s disappearance. More likely he’d stumbled upon the truth and set out to investigate. Ms. O’Linger hadn’t been able to bring herself to leave the office—even on Sunday—until she’d set everything to rights after the chief’s search.

  “Do you have reason to believe Scott was investigating Polly’s disappearance?” Melissa asked.

  Jonathan flashed a look of approval. He’d been correct when he’d said she would know the questions to ask. That he had faith in her ability to do the job made her feel a little better. Took her mind off poor Uncle Harry lying in that hospital bed.

  Ms. O’Linger collapsed into the leather executive chair behind Scott’s desk. “Mercy, let me think.” She rubbed at her forehead. “I’m just so confused. I can hardly believe this has happened.”

  Melissa held her breath, hoping the woman could give them something, anything, that might help.

  Ms. O’Linger pinched her lips together and glanced at Jonathan.

  “Jonathan is h
ere to help,” Melissa assured the woman. “He’s my friend.” She’d introduced him that way, but evidently the message hadn’t gotten through.

  “I’m sure he’s very nice,” Ms. O’Linger agreed, “but the chief made me promise not to talk about this to anyone.” She wrung her hands. “He went over Scotty’s office and house. His momma and daddy were awfully upset as it was…” She shook her head. “But when the chief questioned me, he specifically said not to discuss what I knew with anyone. Not a soul.”

  Anticipation fired in Melissa’s veins. “Ms. O’Linger, you’ve known me your whole life. I just want to find my niece. We’re not planning to get in the chief’s way. We want to help.”

  The old woman divided her attention between Melissa and Jonathan, her gaze sweeping back and forth repeatedly. “If he finds out I told you…”

  “He won’t find out,” Melissa said quickly. “You have my word on that. You know I took care of Mr. O’Linger in the hospital. You know you can trust me.” Ms. O’Linger had been most grateful for Melissa’s help during those agonizing final days of her husband’s life. That should account for something.

  “Yes, you surely did and that’s the only reason I’m having second thoughts on following the chief’s orders.” She shrugged her rounded shoulders. “Truth is, I don’t think it’s really about the case. The reason he doesn’t want me to talk about it, I mean. I think it’s just embarrassing to him.”

  Melissa sat up straighter. The allegations Scott had thrown at Jonathan sifted to the top of her worried mind. Could there be any truth to that rumor? Impossible! Harry would never—Melissa stopped herself. He’d proven her wrong already. At this point, she couldn’t say what he or anyone else might be capable of doing.

  Even herself. She’d made love with Jonathan when she’d sworn she would never make that mistake again.

  “I didn’t say anything to Scotty,” his secretary admitted with a sheepish look. “I knew he wouldn’t like me going through his briefcase. But he left it on his desk and papers were poking out. I only wanted to straighten up for him.” She smiled at Melissa. “To me, you’re all still just a bunch of kids who need a little extra mothering from time to time.”