by Debra Webb
Struggling to regain his composure, Dan strode out of the restaurant and headed for his SUV. What he really wanted to do was to go back in there and beat the hell out of the guy on principle. If he had something on the department then he should give it up. This dancing all around it, throwing about innuendos and then dropping the ball until the next time he wanted to stir the stink was bullshit.
Be that as it may, it was Dan’s duty to make sure that all his people were clean. For the past four years he had ignored Corlew’s insinuations about Harold Black and his division. It was time to put those allegations to rest once and for all.
Might as well start with his latest off-the-cuff remarks about how the last two cases in the Man in the Moon investigation were handled. Dan put in a call to Harper for a private meeting in his office ASAP.
Harper was a good man. He could do what needed to be done without prejudice. Jess could do the same, but she had enough going on right now. Dan didn’t want to weigh her down with any additional complications.
When Dan reached the city parking garage, Harper and Cook were just pulling in.
Couldn’t ask for better timing. He climbed out, shut the door, and secured his vehicle. Harper waited in the aisle between parking lanes.
“I sent Cook to the office to complete reports.”
“Good.” Dan surveyed the garage. “I need you to look into a situation that’s been festering for a while.” As much as he needed this done, he wasn’t looking forward to it. Maybe that was why he’d put it off all this time. It was easier to despise Corlew than to think there was some truth to his allegations.
Maybe the history between them was the reason it had been so easy to believe the worst about Corlew four years ago.
Don’t even go there, Dan.
“Buddy Corlew insinuated that we fell down on those last two cases, James and Myers, in the Man in the Moon investigation. He’s been retained in his capacity as a private investigator by one or more of the victim’s families. I don’t know which ones yet. At any rate, if the department is culpable in some way I need to know it and I need to make it right if that’s possible. Chief Black swears it was all done by the book, but he was so close to the investigation his judgment may be skewed. I don’t want any question about this. I want to be absolutely certain.”
They’d been down this road with Corlew before. The trail was getting worn and rutted.
Harper considered his words for a moment. “Cook and I’ve been interviewing the cops who worked the case, from the beginning.”
“Have you picked up on some thread that’s nudged your instincts?”
Harper shook his head. “Not at all, sir. What I’ve gathered is that we did everything possible to do the impossible—find a ghost.”
That eased Dan’s tension a fraction. “Look closely at those last two cases. If there were any mistakes, I want to know.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dan’s cell vibrated with an incoming text. He slid it from his pocket as they continued toward the BPD offices.
A man should always send his beloved flowers.
He stalled. “What the hell?”
An image came next. A bouquet of flowers with a card. He zoomed in on the card. It was addressed to Jess. His gut clenched. He zoomed back out. The flowers were lying on what appeared to be the hood of a car… a red car.
He turned to Harper. “Where’s Chief Harris?” His pulse rate went off the charts.
“She and Detective Wells are conducting interviews in the field. Parents of the victims.”
“In Wells’s red Mustang?”
Harper nodded.
Fear pumped through Dan’s veins. “We need to find them. Now.”
Sixth Avenue North, 1:05 p.m.
Jess was just about ready to show her shield and wave her Glock if Fergus Cagle didn’t show up in the next sixty seconds.
The man had kept them waiting in his office for more than an hour. If not for the secretary sitting right outside the door, she and Lori could have reviewed every drawer and file the man had in his office.
“Chief Burnett is still demanding that you come back to the office.” Lori looked from her cell to Jess. “Harper says he is beyond furious.”
Well hell. He’d been clamoring for them to return to the office for the past fifteen minutes. “Step into the lobby and let him know that I’m in the middle of an interview and I can’t get back there until I’ve finished.” Not only was she meeting with Cagle, but there was Bullock, Gifford, and Kennamer to boot. She had waited this long, and she wasn’t leaving without these interviews.
“Will do.”
Jess refused to even take her phone from her bag. She’d set it to silent after Dan’s first phone call. She had a job to do. Lori was with her. He needed to back off.
“Chief Harris.”
Jess looked up just in time to see Fergus Cagle striding into the room. She didn’t have to wait for the formal introduction. He was tall and thin with gray hair. Nice eyes and a friendly smile. She recognized him from the case file photos. He hadn’t changed one bit.
“I apologize for keeping you waiting. That confounded budget meeting just didn’t want to end.” He shook his head. “With all the cutbacks, we’re having a time keeping our employees properly compensated. From the looks of things we’ll be laying off more workers at the beginning of the year. That’s why I’m jumping through hoops trying to be in too many places at one time.”
“You’re here now.” Jess propped a smile in place. “Why don’t we get started?” She frowned. “The other three gentlemen are here?”
“Yes, ma’am. I was under the impression you wanted to speak to them separate from me, so they’re waiting in the employee lounge.”
Lori reentered the office. The look she gave Jess warned that Burnett hadn’t been pleased with her answer. What was new?
“Mr. Cagle, this is Detective Wells. If there’s an office free, she could interview one of the other gentlemen. We’ll make quick work of this formality so you can get back to the business of keeping our city’s power flowing.”
And they could get to the office before Dan sent SWAT to collect her.
“Why sure.” Cagle stepped to the door and instructed his secretary to show Detective Wells to an office and then have Kennamer meet her there.
When he returned to his desk, he placed his hands palms down on the cluttered surface and released a big sigh. “Now I’m all yours, ma’am.”
“According to the statements you gave fourteen and then thirteen years ago,” Jess began, “you didn’t recall seeing Emma James or Dorie Myers in the weeks prior to their disappearances.”
He gave a succinct nod. “That’s right. I was a reader back then but I didn’t work either of those routes normally. Once in a while I subbed for Bullock or Kennamer. The route that included the Myers house belonged to Jerry… Bullock. I might have taken Mike’s—Kennamer’s—route that included the James property once. We try to keep a reader on a particular route. He learns the idiosyncrasies of the homes along that route. Gets to know the routines of the families. We can spot problems easier that way.”
“What sort of problems?” Jess readied her pad and pen for taking notes.
“We can tell if a home is using more resources than usual; that can sometimes indicate a problem that the homeowner doesn’t know about. Sometimes there are deaths and we might not hear about it here in the office. The last thing we want to do is turn off someone’s power when they’ve lost a loved one and just forgot to pay the bill. We like to believe that we’re building relationships, Chief Harris. This is more than just about business.”
“I imagine a good knowledge of the route protects the reader as well.” As he considered the question she watched his face, his hands. He appeared very much at ease, very open.
“That’s true also,” he agreed. “We want our employees to be safe on the job. Some of the folks, especially those in the rural areas, have dogs that run loose. We’ve had more than our
fair share of dog bites. The readers make it a point to get to know which houses have dogs. If possible they try to befriend the family pets. That makes their jobs easier and generally keeps everyone happy.”
“Do readers carry treats for the dogs in hopes of winning them over?” Jess stopped breathing in anticipation of his answer. Whoever had taken Dorie Myers had known how to handle her dog. That was a given.
“We don’t recommend or encourage feeding the pets. That kind of thing can end up in a lawsuit. It’s pretty much up to the reader to deal with each individual and unique situation. As long as he gets permission from the owner to give treats, I don’t see the harm.”
That was a yes in Jess’s opinion. She hoped her next question wouldn’t offend him. “In all your years working in the field and then in your capacity as a supervisor, have you ever known any of your employees to get involved with a customer? Attached, maybe, in an inappropriate or overzealous manner?”
Cagle leaned back in his chair and appeared to thoroughly weigh the question. “There was one time about twelve years ago that Roger Fowler got a little caught up in an affair with a female customer. Wouldn’t have been an issue except that the woman was married and she accused him of taking some jewelry from her home. In all my time in this department I have never known any of the men here to cross that line. Except that once. We keep an eye on each other, Chief Harris. None of us wants to lose the community’s trust by allowing a screwup. That’s just plain old good sense and job security. Roger retired after that. It was best.”
Jess made a note of Roger Fowler’s name. “Were any legal charges filed against Mr. Fowler?”
Cagle shook his head. “She and her husband chose not to file charges.”
“Do you have an address and phone number for Mr. Fowler?”
“We have the address and phone number he had when he worked here. My secretary will find that for you,” he offered. “Anything we can do to help.”
Jess appreciated the cooperation. “Do you have any pets, Mr. Cagle?” She knew he did, because there were pictures of him and a couple of dogs on the credenza behind his desk.
“I sure do.” He turned his chair so he could see the photos that had caught her attention. “I have two golden retrievers and an old cat. They keep me company. After my wife passed on, I needed a companion. The next thing I knew I had three of ’em. I guess the good Lord knew I was lonesome.”
Jess scribbled a few notes mostly for show. “What about children? Do you have children at home?”
“No, ma’am. My daughter’s all grown up. But I do have two beautiful grandchildren who visit regularly. A boy who’s thirteen and a nine-year-old granddaughter. I am truly blessed.”
“I’m sure you can sympathize with the parents of all these missing children. Little girls around the same age as your granddaughter. That’s why I’m here, Mr. Cagle. We’re going back through all the steps to ensure we haven’t missed anything. We have to find and stop the person responsible for these tragedies.”
He nodded. “I do understand. Like most folks, I thought we’d seen the last of this nightmare thirteen years ago. That’s one prayer I’m hoping will still be answered.”
“It does make you wonder, why now? After all these years?” Jess watched his face, his eyes for the slightest hint of any emotion beyond what appeared to be genuine regret.
He nodded, his expression somber, then he surveyed his desk and glanced at the clock before meeting her gaze once more. “I hope you’ll know the answer to that question soon. I know we’re supposed to love all God’s creatures, but this is one creature that needs to be stopped for his own good as well as the community’s. Seems like the whole community’s counting on you to do that, Chief Harris.”
Jess thanked him for his time and moved on to interview the final man on her list, Jerry Bullock. Cagle was accommodating enough to allow her to use his office. Lori had already finished her interview with Kennamer and was talking to Gifford.
“Mr. Bullock, besides Mr. Cagle, you’ve worked the longest for Alabama Power.”
The man nodded. “That’s right.”
Bullock was fifty-eight, a little on the heavy side. He had a friendly demeanor but he seemed distracted or nervous.
“Can you tell me what you remember from the days and weeks around the Man in the Moon abductions? The last two in particular. I believe Dorie Myers was on your route.”
He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “We all talked about what a shame it was. I didn’t know any of the victims personally. Like you said, the Myers home was on my route at that time. I knew the parents, but I only saw the kids once in a while. They were usually in school when I came by the house.” He shook his head, his expression pained. “I felt for the Myerses. Still do. They’re good folks. The whole community was pretty torn up when that little girl disappeared.”
“Did you or any of your coworkers or friends have any theories on who might be taking all those children?”
He pursed his lips and appeared to consider her question at length. “Back then I think everybody considered everybody else a suspect. Hell, we didn’t know what was going on. I just kept hoping the police would find some evidence but they never did.”
“Was there any reason at that time or now for you to be concerned for your job or your safety, Mr. Bullock?”
Startled by her question, he sat up straight. “No, ma’am. No way.” He shook his head adamantly. “Why would you ask that?”
Jess made a few notes on her pad just to make him wonder. “Standard procedure, Mr. Bullock. Now.” She gave him a big smile. “Do you remember Roger Fowler?”
Bullock gave a halfhearted shrug. “I knew of him, but we didn’t pal around or anything.” He looked away, scratched the back of his head. “I heard he got into trouble and had to retire early.”
Obviously that was a subject he didn’t want to talk about. “Do you have anything else you want to say or any questions for me?”
He hesitated a bit but then asked, “You think you can catch him, ma’am? I mean, if this starts up again…” He shook his head. “If half the CSI stuff you see on TV is accurate, surely you can find him. He don’t need to get away with this anymore.” He cleared his throat. “You will catch him this time, won’t you?”
“We’re doing everything possible to find him,” Jess assured him. “You have my word on that.”
When he’d left, Jess gathered her things and stopped by the secretary’s desk for Fowler’s last known address.
The stories of the surviving meter readers hadn’t changed in thirteen years, it seemed. Considering how often they’d had the opportunity to discuss the past and rehash those memories, it was a miracle each one told his version exactly as he had over a decade before. The one new thread was Roger Fowler. Of course his illicit workplace affair hadn’t happened until the year after Dorie Myers was abducted, so there was no reason he would have been mentioned.
The fact that the man had no qualms about sleeping with another man’s wife didn’t make him a killer, but it certainly prompted a closer look at whatever else he might have been up to during his tenure at Alabama Power.
Jess left Alabama Power feeling as if she’d just exited a well-choreographed stage production where not a single character forgot his lines.
“We have ten minutes to get to the Jameses’ home.” Jess chewed her lip. “Should I call and let them know we’ll be a few minutes late?” The Jameses lived all the way out in Pelham, and not even Lori’s Mustang could go that fast.
“I think you’ll have to take care of that roadblock first.”
Jess followed her gaze to the Mustang where Burnett waited. A BPD cruiser had Lori’s car blocked in its parking slot.
Outrage rushed up Jess’s spine. “Give me a couple of minutes. See what you can find out about the meter reader who was fired, Roger Fowler.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Jess stalked up to where Dan waited. For about three seconds and despite her fury, she couldn’
t help being drawn to his strength. It was distracting enough that he was tall and handsome and that damned blue suit, the one she liked better than all the others, made those eyes of his glitter. On top of being plain old handsome, he had those broad shoulders and those strong arms that could make her feel safe…
But right now she was as mad as hell and she was not playing with him about this. “You have two minutes and then I’m on my way to interview the James family.”
He held out his phone, screen first. She glared at it, then surrendered and dug out her reading glasses. How was she supposed to stand her ground when she had to stop and get her damned glasses? She snatched the phone from his hand and had a look. Spears, the bastard, had sent him a text and the image of the flowers her self-proclaimed secret admirer had left on Lori’s car. Confirmed once and for all that the guy in the Infiniti was working for the obsessed serial killer.
She shoved the phone back at Dan. “The flowers are in the trunk. The card and envelope have been bagged for turning in to Evidence. What of it? We barely got a glimpse of the person who made the delivery.”
Evidently he was just as mad as she was. She could have used a jackhammer and not made a dent in that stony jaw of his. As she spoke, his posture had gone just as rigid. But it was the fire in those blue eyes that told her he was way, way ticked off. This might end up taking a few minutes longer than she’d anticipated.
“But you can’t be sure he wasn’t armed,” he said tightly, every word vibrating with fury.
“It’s possible.” She shrugged. “If he was, he ran like a coward, since Wells and I were definitely armed and ready.”
He dropped his phone into his jacket pocket and seemed to have trouble summoning whatever he intended to say next. Never a good sign. “How many times did I call you after I received that text?”
She supposed her ignoring his calls added insult to injury. Daniel Burnett hated to be ignored. “I was in the middle of interviews.” She gestured to the building behind her. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m working a case that involves twenty missing children. I wasn’t exactly sitting around waiting for you to call.”
