Gone without a Trace

by Patricia Bradley

  “That’s terrible. Was she sorry about it?”

  “No. She would be angry that I hadn’t called to her. And she would take a belt to my back, my legs, anywhere it would reach. But if I did yell and let her know I was still in the closet, she’d get just as angry and the same thing would happen.”

  “Why didn’t you tell someone?”

  “She would have killed me.”

  She was quiet for a minute. “That’s a bummer. But I don’t—” She stopped halfway, and seemed to be thinking. “So how do you decide which children to save?”

  “I just know.”

  “If I did have a child, don’t you think he or she might be worried about me?”

  “So, you do have a child.”

  “I said if.”

  She was playing games again. He stood. They’d talked enough for today. “I’ll be back with your supper later.”

  “Do . . . do you think you could give me something besides those hunting magazines to read. Please?”

  He studied her. She looked so vulnerable. “Do you have a boy or a girl?”

  She hesitated and seemed to struggle with answering him. “A . . . boy.”

  He smiled at her. “Good girl. I’ll see if Mother has any books she’ll let you read.”

  “Your mother knows I’m here?”

  He smiled again. “Oh yes.”

  After lunch, Livy went upstairs for her gun. Standing on the sidewalk, talking to Alex, it had seemed so easy to know she’d done nothing wrong, but how would she react in a tight situation when she or her partner looked down the barrel of a real gun? Of course, she wouldn’t know the answer to that until she was in that tight situation, but she had a plan.

  There was a new target range in Logan Point that had the practice course she’d failed last week, and she would start the plan off with it. Then Livy planned to talk to Taylor about setting up regular appointments for counseling—if she would see her. If not, she’d get her to recommend someone.

  She met Alex at the bottom of the stairs and couldn’t help noticing the way butterflies filled her chest when his chiseled lips parted in a smile. No. Wrong time in her life to fall for someone like Alex. Someone who didn’t follow through after three years of law school. Someone who would be leaving when this case was finished.

  Someone like her dad.

  He eyed the gun in her hand. “Where are you headed?”

  “Practice shooting at an indoor range. Want to come along?” She couldn’t believe she had just done that. She definitely didn’t need an audience if she couldn’t handle the course. Maybe he would decline. “Wait, don’t you have to fly to Nashville?”

  “I decided to wait until in the morning. As of thirty minutes ago, no one has claimed Samantha Jo’s wallet, and since I can’t talk to any of the record producers or agents today, there’s no need to fly up there this afternoon. Do they furnish guns or do I need to grab mine?”

  “Yours is fine. Mississippi is an open-carry state. Just be sure to not conceal it.”

  As he turned to walk away, his cell rang, and he glanced at it. “It’s my granddad. You go ahead, and I’ll meet you there. What’s the address?”

  “I don’t know. I can tell you how to get there.” She shot him her wicked grin. “But, you’re a detective. You can find it.”

  “Does this place have a name, or am I supposed to figure that out too?”

  “Logan Point Shooting Range. Simple enough?”

  He nodded and answered his phone. “Good morning, Grandfather.”

  Livy slipped out the back door and hurried to her car. Maybe his grandfather would keep him on the phone long enough for her to get in a practice round or two.

  The new Logan Point Shooting Range surprised her. Spread out over five acres, it included both indoor and outdoor ranges with several options. If it had been warmer and less windy, she would have used the outdoor range. There was even a paintball field well away from the firing ranges. She opened her case and took out her headphones. Now to get in some practice shots before Alex arrived.

  “Livy.” Ben Logan’s voice sounded behind her. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

  She turned around. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at the lake investigating the car that went off the bridge last night?”

  “I come here every Sunday afternoon. Dragging the lake is a slow process, but Wade has it covered. Besides, I’m just ten minutes away, and he’ll call me if I’m needed.”

  “What was the cause of the accident?”

  “The driver registered .25 on the Breathalyzer.” He shook his head. “People do stupid things.”

  “And everyone pays,” she said. “Have you talked with Nashville PD today about Samantha Jo’s wallet?”

  “Touched base a few minutes ago. No one has come forward to claim it.”

  “So are you closing this case out?”

  “Not just yet. Alex said he was flying up there tomorrow, and I’m thinking about going with him to talk with the waitress who was abducted last year. Something about that wallet deal doesn’t sit right with me.”

  “I think Alex has a problem with it too.”

  “I like Alex,” Ben said. “Seems to be competent.”

  “Yeah, for a PI.” She added a grin to the comment since Alex had proven himself competent on many levels.

  “I heard that,” Alex said.

  Livy hadn’t seen him arrive, and a cringe shivered through her. He wouldn’t know she was joking. She turned around, and the question in his eyes made her want to kick herself. She held her hand up. “And I was smiling when I said it.”

  His brown eyes held hers, and then he gave a slight nod. He turned to Ben. “Any new information on the waitresses?”

  “Wade tapped into the National Incident-Based Reporting System last night and discovered three more kidnappings that fit our profile. Two taken and released before Robyn and a waitress in Gulfport who went missing just after Christmas.”

  “Where’s Gulfport?” Alex asked.

  “South Mississippi,” Livy said.

  “I contacted the sheriff in Harrison County, and he’s faxing the report. I planned to call you two when it came in, then the car went off in the lake. All my men are working it. My dispatcher will call when it comes in.”

  Alex turned to Livy and winked. “Until then, why don’t you and I do some shooting?”

  Her heart lifted, and suddenly it didn’t matter that she wouldn’t have any practice shots. “Sure.”

  “Which course are you shooting?” Alex asked.

  She could take the easy way out and shoot the regular targets. But she’d never been one to take the easy way. “The shoot/no-shoot.”

  Alex’s eyebrows went up. He remembered it was the one she’d failed. The three of them walked to the course.

  “Oh, look.” He pointed to a sign. “You can do the course with a partner—even compete against each other. What do you say?”

  “Wouldn’t you rather shoot the course with Ben?” She tried to keep the desperation out of her voice.

  “Nope. Didn’t tell Ben the other night I would be his partner.”

  “I’ll be your scorekeeper-slash-referee,” Ben said.

  She tamped down the nervousness that crawled into her throat. She could do this. “You’re on.”

  They signed up and were assigned their spot. Alex carried a 9 mm Glock, a gun she’d wanted to try out. Maybe he’d let her before they finished. After all three had put on headphones, Ben had them stand with their backs to the target range. “This will be a little more realistic. When I say go, turn around, assess the situation, and fire or not fire according to the target. Don’t pay any attention to each other’s target—just focus on yours. Got it?”

  They both nodded. She held her gun with both hands, waiting. Heat flushed her face, and sweat trickled down her back. Come on, Ben.

  “Go!”

  They both turned. Ten yards away, a target popped up, a robber holding a gun. She fired. At t
he same time, Alex fired his gun. Target after target popped up, some lethal threats, others not. When the last target went down, Livy knew she’d aced the course, and after she’d exchanged the empty magazine for a full one, she holstered her gun and then turned to Ben for verification.

  His wide grin confirmed her assessment. “You both did good. A hundred percent for both.”

  She high-fived Ben and Alex.

  “We’re not done. Can’t have a tie. How about the firing range?” Alex turned to Ben. “Would you be scorekeeper again?”

  Ben’s cell rang, and he held his hand up as he answered. “Hello.” As he listened, the smile on his face faded. “I’ll be right there.”

  “Did they find the body?” Livy asked.

  “Not exactly. They found a body. It was wrapped in a heavy-duty black plastic bag and weighted with concrete blocks.” He slipped the phone back on his belt. “And Wade says she’s wearing some sort of waitress uniform.”

  Alex’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Is . . . is it Samantha Jo?”

  “Wade didn’t think so, but he couldn’t be sure.”

  Livy gripped her gun. If she’d only tried harder to find Robyn, this woman might not be dead.

  17

  It couldn’t be Samantha Jo. Alex fought the anxiety that slammed his gut. “Can I tag along to the lake with you?”

  “No need. The coroner has been on call all day, and the body is already on the way to the hospital. After a preliminary exam, it’ll go to Jackson for the autopsy. But we’ll get her prints and at least verify whether it’s Samantha Jo or not.”

  “Jackson, Mississippi?” Livy frowned as she packed her gun and headphones in her bag.

  Ben nodded. “All of our autopsies are done there.”

  “Each county doesn’t do its own?” Alex asked. As far as he knew, in Texas each county conducted their own autopsies.

  “Afraid not.”

  “Any chance we can get Memphis to conduct it? Half the lake is in Tennessee. I know the coroner there,” said Livy.

  “I’d have to give Tennessee the case, and I don’t want to do that.”

  “No,” she agreed.

  “How long will it take to get the results back?” Alex wasn’t certain he agreed with Ben about holding on to the case if Memphis could do the autopsy sooner.

  “Good question, but we’ll get enough information before we send the body to ascertain whether or not it’s the missing waitress from Gulfport.”

  “Then do you mind if I go with you to the hospital?” Alex said.

  Ben nodded. “Won’t be pleasant.”

  “I’m coming as well,” Livy said. “Oh, wait. This makes everything different. Robyn is at Johnny B’s by herself. I’m going to pass on the hospital and shadow her. If our guy dumped the body, finding it may send him around the bend. Robyn’s already said she thought someone was watching her, and I want to be there if this guy decides to target her. If he does, he’ll have to come through me.”

  “And me,” Alex added. “I’ll join you there as soon as I know whether or not it’s Samantha Jo.”

  The wind had kicked up as they exited the building. Livy’s car was parked near the entrance, and he felt the urge to tell her to be careful as she walked to her car, but he knew she wouldn’t appreciate it. “I’ll come to the truck plaza as soon as I can.”

  She nodded and they waited until she’d unlocked the door and sat behind the wheel before continuing on to their cars. Alex jammed his hands into his pockets as they walked to the end of the parking lot. “Did Wade say why he didn’t think it was Samantha Jo?”

  “According to him, the body is fairly well preserved, and he thinks the victim is too small and too old to be your girl.”

  Relief washed over him as he climbed into the Impala and followed Ben to the hospital. According to the report his boss had given him, Samantha Jo was five eight and only twenty-one. Didn’t sound like Samantha Jo.

  His earlier phone conversation with his grandfather came to mind.

  “So you haven’t found her yet,” his grandfather had said. “Do you really expect to?”

  “Yes.” Alex had held his temper. “I still have three and a half weeks.”

  “Three,” his grandfather corrected.

  “You almost sound like you hope I don’t find her.”

  “That doesn’t even dignify a response.” And the line had gone dead. Alex had called him back and apologized, but he was so tired of walking on eggshells around his father and grandfather. Not that his dad ever called. Alex had accepted a long time ago that he and his dad would never have the kind of relationship most fathers and sons had.

  When he was a kid, he’d carried the burden of believing it was his fault. He was grown before he learned what the problem was. In his grandfather’s eyes, no task his dad completed pleased him. Even if his dad did a good job, instead of praise, Josiah rained down criticism—his dad should have gone about the task differently . . . or he didn’t do it the way Josiah would have, therefore, it wasn’t as good.

  And then Alex came along, and his grandfather doted on him. The sad part was, Josiah loved his son—he just never showed it. Maybe Alex should reach out to his dad when he returned to Texas. Except that would only give him an opening to pressure Alex about taking the bar, which if he did and passed, would pretty well solve the current problem between them. Until Alex didn’t join the law firm.

  Right now, though, the most important thing for Alex was to find Samantha Jo Woodson. Not for himself or to prove his grandfather wrong, but because she was a young woman with her whole life in front of her. She had a family who loved her. He had to find her.

  At the hospital, he caught up with Ben at the front entrance, then accompanied him to the morgue. Outside the door, the sheriff handed him a mask. “It will help some.”

  This wasn’t the first morgue Alex had visited. The first time he hadn’t been prepared and tossed his cookies. This time even though he was prepared, the mask didn’t begin to cover the smell of the body on the stainless steel table centered in the small, cold room. But his food stayed down. The coroner used scissors to finish the opening Wade had started on the black bag. Even to Alex’s untrained eye, the body bore no resemblance to Samantha Jo Woodson.

  The coroner stretched a measuring tape from her head to her feet. “Our Jane Doe is five four,” he said into a recorder.

  “And Samantha Jo is five eight,” Alex said. His relief was tempered by the knowledge that the woman on the table had a family somewhere, and even though it wasn’t the girl he was looking for, the person responsible for this victim’s death probably had Samantha Jo. He had to be found and stopped.

  “How long before an autopsy will be performed?”

  “Depends on how backed up Jackson is. We’re going to get fingerprints and take a few photos today,” Ben said, “just in case something happens to the body between here and Jackson. And we’ll go ahead and get her weight and take X-rays of the teeth—we can do that without disturbing the body.”

  Alex was on Ben’s heels when he left the morgue. As they got off the elevator on the first floor, he asked if Ben still planned to fly to Nashville with him in the morning.

  “How long are you going to be up there?”

  “Half a day at most. I’ve put together an email to send out first thing tomorrow to all the record producers and agents. Her family indicated she’d been in contact with a few of them, and those are the ones I want to talk face-to-face with. I plan to take her photo around to their offices, see if any of the receptionists remember seeing her lately.”

  The front doors opened automatically as they approached. Ben rested his hand on his gun. “I’d like to talk to the cop who received the purse. See if he can describe the person who turned it in.”

  Alex nodded. “I believe the purse is a red herring, but it’s a lead I can’t afford to ignore. It’d be great if we found her, or found someone she’d contacted in the last week. Think you can be ready to leave by six
? According to the weatherman, the temp is going to be in the forties, and I should be back by noon—unless we get a lead.”

  “I’ll meet you at the airport a little before six.” Ben stopped at his car. “Where are you headed now?”

  “To get the plane ready, and then to Johnny B’s. You?”

  “Johnny B’s. I don’t want Livy or Robyn there without cover. I believe our Jane Doe is connected to all the other cases of kidnapped waitresses, and whoever killed her is still out there.”

  “Assuming she is connected, why do you think he killed her?”

  “Probably for the same reason he beat Robyn to where she wasn’t recognizable. Have you seen the photos the police took in the ER at Bristol?”

  Alex shook his head. “How did you see them?”

  “I called the chief of police, and he emailed them. I don’t know how she lived through the beating he gave her.”

  “And this animal probably has Samantha Jo. I just hope she doesn’t do anything to set him off.” Alex rubbed his hand over his eyes. “One more thing. Do you believe this is the work of someone who comes through here only every now and then?”

  “No,” the sheriff replied. “It’s either someone who lives in Logan Point or a trucker who comes through often enough to know the best place to dump a body in the lake. While I’m at Johnny B’s, I’ll get Livy to help me question some of the truckers who are regulars. We’ll get the drivers’ names and the companies they work for this afternoon, and tomorrow while you and I are in Nashville, I’ll have one of my deputies contact the different companies for their logs. I figure if we do that for a few days, we’ll catch all the regular drivers.”

  “Good deal.” Alex climbed into his car and drove toward the airport. He’d love to help ask questions, but if he did, he’d blow his cover. His phone rang and he glanced at the ID. Johnny B’s. “Jennings.”

  “Alex, Johnny Baxter. Wondered if you could come in for a shift. Our cook got sick.”

  He hesitated. If he went in to work, he’d have to forgo getting the plane ready, meaning he’d have to get up a little earlier in the morning to fuel up and do his preflight. But it would give him an opportunity to see Livy again. He wheeled the Impala in a U-turn. “Sure. Be there in ten minutes.”