Blood Trail

by C. M. Sutter

  “So, what do we do until Claire gets ahold of you?”

  Gary continued down the road after the light turned green. He would merge onto Highway 85 north in a matter of minutes.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m playing it smart. We’re taking Highway 85 instead of the interstate. Better safe than sorry, right?”

  “Yeah, then what?”

  “Then we go to Cheyenne, hunker down in a cheap motel, and wait. We should hear back from Claire by morning.”

  The sun was low in the sky by the time Gary pulled into the parking lot at Vista Lodge, a motel just south of Cheyenne that sat on a frontage road next to the highway. From the looks of the façade, the lodge had seen better days. Gary parked, went inside, and paid the fifty bucks for a room with two double beds. He was given the key to room ten, the last room at the end of the building. He was instructed to park just outside the door. A gas station and Quick Mart stood a hundred feet away. Before they got comfortable, Gary and Leon walked across the adjoining lots, went inside, and bought chips, sandwiches, and a six-pack of beer.

  After returning to the motel and settling in, Gary popped the tab on the beer can, tore open the sandwich wrapper, and turned on the TV. The local news broadcast showed emergency crews carrying a bagged body out to an ambulance. The anchor announced that a young female was discovered by two hunters just west of Evergreen, Colorado. Denver law officials were handling the case, and the next of kin had been notified. An autopsy was scheduled for the following day to see if the girl had met her untimely death by slipping over the edge because of loose rocks or if foul play was involved.

  “What the hell?” Gary squeezed the can so hard that beer squirted out the top. “How is that even possible? She was at the bottom of a ravine and hidden by thick brush. That’s just our damn luck!”

  Leon snickered. “What happened to your ‘it’s all good’ motto? You change your attitude like I change my underwear—every other day.”

  Gary cursed Leon. “Yeah, you’re a laugh a minute, asshole.”

  “What’s the problem? They don’t have anything to connect her to us. Dead girls don’t talk, remember?”

  “Yeah, yeah. You checked her pockets, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “And you can’t get fingerprints off clothing or skin, can you?”

  Leon shrugged. “I don’t know. Look it up.”

  Gary did then cursed. “Damn it. The post says it isn’t hard to get fingerprints off clothing, but it’s nearly impossible to get it off skin.” He rubbed his forehead as he thought.

  “What’s going on in your head?”

  “I’m trying to replay when we tossed her over the edge. Were we only touching her skin or her clothing too? And what about before that? Hope and Claire probably touched her or her clothes multiple times.”

  “Now who’s the worrier? We grabbed her arms and ankles and swung her over the edge.”

  “That’s right, but you emptied her pockets.”

  “True, but she’s been out in the elements for two days. Who knows how many animals have licked or sniffed her body and clothes. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  Leon huffed. “Wow, I finally get some credit.”

  Gary chugged the beer and popped open another can. He busied himself with a map on his phone. “The sooner we get out of the area, the better. If we don’t hear from Claire by morning, we’re heading west. The borders of Wyoming, Utah, and Idaho all meet. We’ll make our next abductions in that corridor. There aren’t a lot of towns in that area, but we’ll make do, and I-80 is nearly a straight shot from Cheyenne to where we need to go. The drive from that area to Central City is around six hours—not the worst—and maybe if we’re lucky, we can snag someone else along the way.”

  “How are we going to keep up-to-date on that girl we tossed?” Leon asked.

  “We’ll have to use our phone data as we drive. Reception might be spotty in some areas, but we’ll figure it out.” Gary chowed down on his sandwiches and chips as he kept his eyes glued to the TV. “There might be a news update in the morning, and we’ll check before we head out.”

  Chapter 21

  We returned to the crime lab at four o’clock and waited for Brian or Carrie to walk in with the DNA results. I made a quick call to Fay while I had the time.

  “What’s the latest, Fay?” I asked when she picked up.

  “We just finished the second interview with Jacquie’s parents. They’re beside themselves with sadness.”

  “I’m sure they are. So far, Jacquie is the only girl found dead, but that easily could have been missed if not for those hunters. We’ll have to reevaluate our profile of Leon and Gary to see if we truly believe they’re involved.”

  “Right, but if they aren’t, it doesn’t explain why Claire and Hope suddenly vanished when the guys got out of prison, or why they were caught on video paying for fuel for those box trucks.”

  I sighed into the phone. “I know. We have a lot of brainstorming to do, and meanwhile, there’s still no sightings of Leon or Gary at their apartments.”

  Fay continued. “Mr. and Mrs. Carver are heading to Denver tonight and will meet with the medical examiner sometime tomorrow. He’ll explain his findings to them and us as well, plus we’ll get a copy of the official report. From our interview with the Carvers on Monday, Jacquie up and vanished as she was walking to a friend’s house. She never made it there, and of course, nobody knew anything was amiss until Jacquie was expected home at eight o’clock and didn’t show up. For those few hours, her parents thought she was at the friend’s house, and the friend thought she’d changed her mind about coming over. That gave the kidnappers plenty of time to get back on the interstate and out of the area.”

  “What’s the population of Kaycee?” I asked.

  “Would you believe less than three hundred people? The town is just a blip along the interstate.”

  “That’s crazy, but maybe we’ll get some clarity tomorrow. Are you on your way here?”

  “Yep, we literally left the Carver house ten minutes ago. We should get to Cheyenne around seven, like we thought.”

  “Okay, talk to you later.” I ended the call right as Brian and Carrie walked in.

  Renz spoke up first. “What did you find out?”

  “The DNA is a match,” Carrie said. “The blood smear came from the same person whose dark hair was in the brushes and curling iron.”

  “Were you able to tell how old the blood was?”

  Brian took over. “That type of testing is only seventy percent accurate.”

  “I’ll take seventy percent over zero,” Renz said. “So how old is it?”

  “Forty eight hours old at most, according to the system we use.”

  I groaned. “So there’s a good chance that Hope is in trouble and wasn’t alone at her apartment.”

  “What about the milk carton?” Renz asked.

  “We were able to pull several viable prints off it, and we got a match through IAFIS.” Brian looked at the report. “Does the name Gary Lee Rhodes mean anything to you?”

  I slapped the table. “Does it ever, and it’s about damn time we got a real lead. That piece of crap just put the first nail in his own coffin. Can we have copies of the reports?”

  “I’ve already printed them out for you.”

  We stood, thanked them for their quick turnover of the testing, and left.

  “Now what?” I asked. “We don’t have a car or anywhere to wait for Tommy and Fay.” I tipped my wrist. “And we still have two and a half hours until they get here.”

  Renz scratched his chin. “I do remember passing a coffee shop on our way to the restaurant. There was a sign on the door showing they had Wi-Fi.”

  “Okay, let’s go there.”

  Once seated at a large table with enough room to use as a work station, Renz and I settled in with coffee and my laptop in front of us. I opened a map of South Dakota, Wyoming, and Col
orado. We would have to talk quietly since the coffee shop was near capacity, but it was a good place to work while we waited for our colleagues. Renz scooted in closer as I pointed out different areas on the map.

  “It’s more than likely that Hope came from Leon’s apartment. Why it’s empty now can only mean he’s with her or he took off on his own for somewhere else.”

  Renz nodded. “I doubt he went with her. Why would he allow her to stop at her parents’ house?”

  I grimaced. “Either he knew something bad was about to take place, and he let her show herself on camera one last time, or he wasn’t with her. She went there alone but, for some reason, changed her mind and didn’t go inside.”

  “I’m leaning toward her being by herself. Leon wouldn’t risk letting her go to the door alone, even if he took her house key away from her. She could have easily banged on the door or rang the bell to wake her parents.”

  I had to agree. “Okay, so if she sneaked out of Leon’s apartment and took off on her own, how did Gary get involved?”

  Renz tapped his pen against the sheet of notes in front of him. “Let me think about that for a second. Casper is how far from Buffalo?”

  I asked my phone. “Ninety minutes, give or take.”

  “And Rapid City to Buffalo?”

  I checked. “Three hours.”

  “Then Leon must have alerted Gary, and because Gary was closer, he got there ahead of Hope and lay in wait for her to show up. What I’m wondering is if Leon joined him, and now all four of them are together again with Hope more of a hostage than a coconspirator.”

  “That sounds probable. I think those agents should breach both apartments to make sure nobody’s inside.”

  “I agree, and I’ll alert Taft to our findings. She’ll have to be the one who makes that call. We also have to make sure there’s a nationwide APB out for all four of them. Even if Hope is on their bad side now, she was an accomplice before that.” Renz tipped his head toward the door. “I’ll make the call outside. I don’t need people eavesdropping on my conversation to Taft.”

  I ordered two more coffees and brought them to the table while I waited for Renz to return. We needed to speak to the Denver FBI. Jacquie was found in that particular area for a reason, and my gut said it had to be on Gary and Leon’s route to the buyer. Gillette, where both sets of parents lived, was on a direct route from Rapid City to Buffalo, where Claire and Hope lived. From there, Casper was a direct line south, passing Kaycee on the way. Continuing south, they would pass through Glenrock, where they were spotted getting fuel a week prior. They would hit Cheyenne, and only another hour and a half south of that was the Denver metro area where all kinds of illegal activities could take place. I jabbed Denver on the map—it was my ah-ha moment.

  The drop-off location has to be within fifty miles of Denver, and I’d venture to say it’s even closer to Evergreen, where Jacquie was dumped like yesterday’s trash.

  Renz pulled open the door and returned to our table. “Taft said she’d give the okay to breach the apartments. Even if the guys aren’t there, one would think there has to be a wealth of information inside. She also put out a nationwide APB on all four of them, but of course, unless they’re out in public, nobody is going to recognize them.”

  “It’s a start. We’ve got another hour before Tommy and Fay arrive. I’ve been searching online for human trafficking cells in the Denver area, but all I can find are articles that are years old. I think we need to speak directly with someone in the FBI’s Denver office.”

  “I’ll take care of that right now.” Renz wrote down the phone number and made the call.

  The coffee shop had mostly cleared out, and only a handful of patrons sat across the room next to the fireplace. After Renz reached the right department, I listened to his side of the conversation and took notes. My hopes were dashed when Renz learned that the nearest human trafficking cell to Denver on record had been infiltrated last year, and it was in Albuquerque. They weren’t aware of a cell popping up in the area and hadn’t heard any chatter of one.

  Renz thanked them and hung up. “Damn it. That didn’t help. It looks like it’s up to us to figure out what’s going on, what they’re doing with the girls, and where those punks have gone.”

  My phone vibrated on the table—a text had come in. I tapped the screen and read it. “It’s a message from Taft. She says the agents entered both apartments, searched them, and found nobody inside and nothing that would help our investigation.”

  Renz shook his head. “How is it possible that two punk ex-cons can outsmart the FBI? They left nothing behind?”

  I shrugged. “I’m just reading what she wrote.” I rattled my fingertips on the table, and Renz noticed.

  He pointed at my fingers. “Does that mean something is bubbling up in your mind?”

  “Maybe. Neither guy has a registered vehicle that we could find, but we saw two box trucks on video on the same day and hundreds of miles apart.”

  Renz looked intrigued. “Right.”

  “So how did Leon get anywhere last night if Hope took her own car?”

  “It had to be the truck,” he said.

  “One would think, yet it was never spotted at the apartment.” I began tapping my computer keys in search of storage garages around Rapid City within a few miles of Leon’s apartment.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Storage garages. Chances are either Hope or Claire paid for one, or maybe both. Who knows?”

  “Hmm… that makes sense. Leon lives on the north side of Rapid City, right?”

  I nodded while I stared at the screen.

  “Try Schaeferville,” Renz said.

  “Why?”

  “Because that’s where they fueled up the truck.”

  I grinned. “You’re brilliant, Agent DeLeon.” I changed my search and found one storage facility in Schaeferville that had garages for large vehicles. “Bingo. That has to be it.”

  I dialed the number on the screen and waited. A man answered on the third ring, and I gestured a thumbs-up to Renz. I introduced myself to the attendant and asked if they had a Hope Daniels listed as a lessee for a garage space.

  He hesitated briefly then responded. “Give me a second to check.” He was back on the phone in less than a minute. “A Hope Daniels rented a double unit four weeks ago.”

  “What exactly is a double unit?”

  “Well, you can fit three cars in it because it’s deep, or a car and a large truck.”

  “How about a twenty-foot box truck?”

  “Yeah, that would fit.”

  “Is somebody at the site all night long?”

  “No, but everyone who comes through has to have a code to open the gate.”

  I groaned. “How long will you be there?”

  “I work until eight o’clock, ma’am, then after that, the facility is locked up. The only people who can get in from that point are the lessees who have the code.”

  “Great. Expect an FBI unit to visit you within the next hour.” I hung up, and I was sure by the look on my face that Renz could tell I was ecstatic. “We might get lucky, partner. I need to tell Taft to have those agents stop at the storage garage before the attendant leaves.”

  I made the call and passed on the information, and Taft said she would get on it right away.

  I looked over my shoulder when the door opened. Tommy and Fay had finally arrived. They saw us and headed our way.

  Chapter 22

  Tommy and Fay scooted the two empty chairs at the table closer to us.

  “What do we know since our last conversation?” Tommy asked.

  “Plenty,” I said. “The blood DNA found at Hope’s apartment is a positive match to the hair in her brushes. Hope may have been injured while at her apartment. We also know Gary was there with her. A milk carton in the trash had his fingerprints on it.”

  “Wow! That absolutely incriminates him. So, is Hope in danger now?”

  “It’s very possible,” I said
. “The agents breached both Leon’s and Gary’s apartments, but nobody was around.”

  “How about information written down? Did the agents find anything?” Fay asked.

  I huffed. “I have to give Gary and Leon credit. Those bastards are smart. They left nothing behind at either place.”

  Tommy palmed his temples. “Okay, now where do we go?”

  “We did get a lead of sorts. The agents who were at Leon’s apartment are going to a storage garage in Schaeferville, a few miles north of Rapid City.”

  Fay leaned in. “Yeah, what’s going on there?”

  Renz let out a low chuckle. “Would you believe Hope rented an oversized garage space there?”

  “Way to go, Agents. So, what will that tell us?” Tommy asked.

  “It depends. If the garage is empty, that means Leon is driving the truck, and the state patrol, county deputies, and local law enforcement have to be even more diligent in stopping every white box truck they see. The plate readers are ineffective without a plate number to track.”

  “How about doing the same thing with rental companies? You know, making calls and asking if either Hope or Claire rented a truck. The company would have the vehicle plate number,” Fay said.

  I nodded. “That’s true, but it’s also a huge time suck. Rental agencies can be anywhere and in every city and state. They could have rented a truck somewhere along their route.”

  “Speaking of route,” Renz said, “we think because of where Jacquie Carver’s body was found, the drop-off location is somewhere west of Denver. Why else go into Colorado at all when all the girls so far have been kidnapped from South Dakota and Wyoming?”

  “Another good point,” Tommy said. “So are we heading to Denver?”

  I frowned. “We are, but there’s a problem.”

  “Uh-huh?”

  “Denver FBI says they have no knowledge of a human trafficking cell currently operating in Colorado. The closest one, in Albuquerque, was shut down a year ago.”

  “So we’re flying blind?” Fay asked.

  I indicated a tiny space with my fingers. “We’re this close to the answers we need. We know they use white box trucks, and it’s likely they’re making the drop somewhere west of Denver. Also, it looks like they’ll be living primarily on cash—which isn’t always easy. Hope’s and Claire’s parents have cut off their credit card and debit card use.” I shook my head. “Damn it, we still have to update Hope’s mom and dad on the DNA results. Beyond that, we don’t know anything about Hope’s physical condition or where she is.”