Just as she got to the top of the ladder, she quickly twisted her torso so that she was now just below the ventilator. Quincy was clawing her shoulders, making nervous cries as she continued to soothe it. Looking up, she could see that the metal fan inside of the shaft was spinning ever so slow, its years of constant cycling had taken a toll on the machinery. Samantha leaned upwards, using one had to hold onto the ladder while trying to jam the fan into place. Quincy the cat wanted to leap off her shoulder, but Samantha tilted her head sideways to hold the jittery animal in place with her cheek.
The pain in her shoulders was unbearable, and the arm that held onto the ladder was getting numb. Samantha gritted her teeth. “Come on.”
She thrust the scrub brush in between the fan blades, and the ventilator was suddenly jammed. The fan tried to slice its way through, but the plastic brush seemed to hold it in place for now. Peering past the stationary blades, she could see a glint of light somewhere up above.
Taking Quincy with one hand, Samantha tried to place it on the narrow ledge just above where the grill had been attached to, but the cat resisted, growling and digging its claws deeper into her shoulder and arms.
She could barely hold on anymore, and the pain made her tears flow. “Quincy, please. Please … you gotta go … please. Do it … for me.”
The cat continued to squirm, clawing at her, its shrill cries pleading with her to stop, but she knew it was the only way. Ignoring the pain of the cat’s claws and bite, she finally was able to place it into the shaft, and got her hand out just before Quincy tried to make a lunge for her. The cat, unable to jump back to where she was, cried out helplessly for her to take it back down.
Samantha shook her head slowly. Her sobbing was uncontrollable now, and she could barely see through the salty tears of her eyes. “Goodbye, Quincy. Goodbye.”
The cat, sensing that there was a way out above, pushed its way through the ventilator fan and began to climb upwards until it was out of sight. Just a few seconds later, the scrub brush broke and the ventilator restarted, sending bits of plastic back down onto the floor below.
Eighteen
Tequila night at Brannigan’s had started out almost ten years ago, and it was held every two weeks. Most of the patrons would usually drop by after eight o’clock, so the place was only half-full an hour before the party crowds sauntered in. Red leather booth couches, brick walls and deep brown lacquered wood gave the bar a homely feeling, and it attracted a dedicated base of customers. The music would vary between country and Jamaican reggae, but it was usually played at a very low volume so as to be barely noticed by the ones who came in for a drink and a conversation.
Addison Draper rotated the empty glass on the moistened table in her booth. The last few days seemed to pass by in a daze. All she could remember were brief scenes that would suddenly manifest themselves in her thoughts without any warning, and there was no way she could suppress them, no matter how hard she tried. The flashbacks were so vivid, she would sometimes lose her train of thought at that very moment.
She remembered sitting by the side of the unmarked duty car as they wheeled away the stretcher carrying Mike Arnold’s body. Of Captain Scowcroft coming towards her, his face a mask of anguish. By the time they started talking, Addison’s exhausted eyes could no longer shed any tears. The captain held his hand out to take her weapon, and she complied. The scene shifted as she was being driven out of the property, and all she could do was to stare down at her trembling hands. After a cursory examination at the nearby hospital, she was driven back to her apartment.
As was standard operating procedure when it came to officer involved shootings, Addison had been placed on paid administrative leave. The county sheriff himself had a talk with her, and he instructed Addison not to carry her badge, and to stay at home during work hours, ready to be called up at any time. He was gracious and sympathetic, telling her to just take things easy for awhile until Internal Affairs had completed their investigation. When the IA supervisor did call on her a few days later for the mandatory interview, she answered truthfully and without any hesitation. He thanked her for her heroism and told her it was just a formality. In the end, he said, she did nothing wrong.
Stephanie came back bearing two glasses of beer in her hands. She sat down beside her, nudging Addison’s thighs gently with her own. “Hey, why are you so quiet all of a sudden? Do you want another tequila daiquiri?”
Addison shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”
Stephanie leaned sideways and their eyes met. She draped an arm over Addison’s shoulder. “Hey, do you wanna talk about it?”
Addison shrugged. “There’s nothing much to talk about.”
“Sure there is, girl. You need to let it all out.”
“I did that already. I talked to the sheriff, my captain, and IA.”
Stephanie shook her head slowly. “But those are the people you work with. You ought to talk to normal people about it too, like me.”
“You don’t really want to know about this, trust me.”
Stephanie clasped her hand. “Hey, remember what we promised when we moved in with each other? If we ever had any problems, we’d talk about it.”
Addison sighed. “I just feel … empty.”
“You lost your partner and it hurts,” Stephanie said softly. “Everybody says it wasn’t your fault, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s what they say.”
“Didn’t your captain recommend that you see a therapist?”
“He did,” Addison said. “The number is on my phone.”
“So what are you waiting for?”
She shook her head. “I’m not doing it, Steph. I don’t want to get drugged.”
“You won’t, girl. You just need somebody to talk to. You’re hurting inside, I can tell.”
“It doesn’t hurt so much now,” Addison said. “It’s just that it all comes back so suddenly, you know?”
Stephanie rolled her eyes. “Then go see the shrink, I’m sure that he or she will figure something out for you.”
Addison shook her head. “It’s more than just that. It’s the case.”
Stephanie gave her a quizzical look. “What do you mean? The case is closed, isn’t it? I saw it on the news. That scumbag you took out was the kidnapper of that girl, right?”
Addison looked away. “I don’t think he did it.”
“What?”
“I don’t think it was him.”
“Who then? That black guy they arrested before the white guy?”
“I really don’t want to talk about it,” Addison said softly. She was shocked to hear that Floyd Winston started cooperating, and fingered Caleb Vize the moment he heard about the latter’s death. When she called Captain Scowcroft about it, all he did was congratulate her for finally solving the case. Addison aired her suspicions about a third man being involved, but the captain said the whole affair was closed. Floyd was released from the county jail a few days after, but he'd been hounded by the media and had gone into hiding.
Stephanie shrugged before taking a few sips of beer. “Suit yourself.”
Addison leaned over and nudged her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I just feel like I’m missing something. It’s like you get that feeling when you think you’ve just about done all you could, but there’s just one little thing that you forgot about, and it’s clawing at your brain.”
“Well I’m no cop, but it looks like you got the man you were looking for,” Stephanie said. “That scumbag who tried to kill you was a meth head and you found a meth lab in that house that burned down. The news said that they found a huge drug stash in that trailer park house you went to. Looks pretty cut and dried to me.”
“Yeah, I know Caleb Vize was a druggie and a dealer, but a kidnapper of young girls? I just don’t see it.”
“So why don’t you tell your supervisor about it then?”
“I did,” Addison said. “But he seems to think it’s all over.”
“So screw him then- I me
an, not literally,” Stephanie said. “You’re a pretty good detective. Go do some more investigating and prove them wrong, if that’s what you feel.”
Addison snorted. “If only I could. I’m still on leave. Technically I don’t have a warrant, can’t use my badge and have no power of arrest. My gun is still being tested and all that.”
Stephanie winked at her. “You never let that stop you.” She placed a caressing hand on Addison’s waistline. “You’re still carrying, aren’t you? I know you are. I can feel it.”
Addison giggled as she pushed Stephanie’s hand away from the concealed gun holster underneath her blouse. “Okay, knock it off. I’m just an ornery civilian with police training at this point.”
“That’s still better than most people. So when will you be cleared for duty again?”
“I don’t know. Might not be for another couple of weeks.”
“I’ll tell you what, girl,” Stephanie said. “My coworkers and I are going to Vermont for some skiing over at Killington. Do you think we could go as a couple? They wanna know all about you.”
“When?”
“This weekend, starting tomorrow. You up for it?”
Addison took a sip of beer. Captain Scowcroft had told her it was okay to move around since the shooting was found to be in line with official policy, so she figured he would grant her the privilege to go out of state for a short vacation while still on leave. “You’re on. Just give me an extra day to catch up on a few things, then I’ll join up with you.”
Addison walked into the sheriff’s station the following day. She smiled at the duty sergeant at the front desk, who pressed the button to let her into the interior corridor after greeting her.
Peggy Anderson was carrying a stack of folders along the passageway, and she gave a surprised look upon seeing Addison. “Hi, Addy. I thought you were still on leave?”
She smiled. “I am, just here to pick up some stuff on my desk. Is Captain Scowcroft here?”
Peggy shook her head. “No, he’s attending a conference in Richmond, along with the sheriff. They’ll be out the whole day. I’ll see you later.” With that, she turned and headed back to the administrative area.
“Seeya,” Addison said as she turned and walked into the detective’s room. There were two other plainclothes officers in the hall, and they each walked up to her, shaking her hand and offering condolences with regards to Mike. Addison chatted with them for a few minutes before they all had to excuse themselves back to their stations.
Sitting down at her desk, she started rummaging through a few folders. A sudden thought had occurred to her, so she stood up again and walked over to where Mike’s desk was. Peggy was in the process of cleaning out his stuff, but the folders pertaining to the Zoe Owen case were still sitting on the top of the table. Addison took all the files and brought it over to her desk, where she sat down and began looking through them once more.
For the next few hours or so, she continued to scan through the documents, hoping to catch something she might have missed. There was a beep on her smartphone so she took it out and examined it. The text was from Stephanie, telling her that the group she was with was already on the way north to the ski resort. Addison texted back that she would be late, and would update her with the proper time when she caught up with them soon. Once she was finished texting, she placed the phone back on the desk and continued to read the files.
By early evening, she had gone through most of the files, but there wasn’t anything that stood out to her. At the last minute, she looked over at Floyd Winston’s payroll records, and she noticed a minor discrepancy that didn’t seem to add up. So she got up and walked out of the station for a bite to eat. She had one more task to do before joining up with Stephanie.
Nineteen
Jeff DeVoe’s residence stood on top of a small hill, overlooking the other houses in the neighborhood. A ring of oak trees surrounded his property and a private, winding road led up to his driveway. Addison Draper had been over to his place a few times already, dropping in to ask questions about Caleb Vize during her investigations over the past two weeks. As a courtesy, she had called his office, and his secretary had told her that he was already gone for the weekend, so she figured he would still be in his house. There were some lights in the ground floor and his sport utility vehicle was sitting out in front. After parking her car beside his, Addison walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell.
Jeff had a slightly surprised look on his face as he opened the door a few minutes later. He was wearing a denim jacket in addition to his usual clothing. “Detective? This is a surprise. What can I do for you?”
Addison smiled. She knew that he was good friends with the county sheriff, so it was better to let him know what the situation was, just in case he might inquire about it. “It’s just Addison right now. I was hoping to ask you a quick question. Can I come in?”
Jeff hesitated for a brief second, but he quickly assumed his usual friendly demeanor. He gestured at her to come inside. “Sure, please come in.”
“Thanks,” Addison said as she strode inside. Near the foyer by the front door were several partially opened gym bags with assorted clothing, as well as boxes of food and other supplies. “Did I catch you at a good time?”
Jeff shrugged as he closed the front door. “I was about to put this stuff into my car. I’ll be off for the weekend.”
“Oh that’s nice,” Addison said. “I’ll be joining up with my partner for skiing in Vermont after this too. Where are you planning to go?”
“I got a cabin overlooking Shenandoah,” Jeff said. “Say, aren’t you supposed to be…”
The game was up. Addison nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, I’m still on leave from the department. I just actually dropped by for a quick question.”
“Sure, what about?”
“About Caleb Vize and Floyd Winston,” Addison said. “A few loose ends, so I was hoping you could fill in the blanks for me.”
Jeff gave her a confused look. “Oh? I had a call from the sheriff a few days back. He told me that the case was closed.”
“Officially it sort of is,” Addison said. “I’m sort of just finishing it up- unofficially.”
“Unofficially?”
Addison could tell he was a smart man. It would be hard to get anything past him. “Well, let’s just say that I don’t agree with my superiors. I think there’s still another man out there, and he may be holding your daughter.”
Jeff was stunned. For a few minutes he didn’t say anything. “What … what makes you say that?”
“Look, I know the trail ends with Caleb Vize, but it seems too cut and dried,” Addison said. “When we interviewed Floyd, he alluded that Caleb was just a go-between, and that was before he suddenly changed his statement when he found out Caleb was dead.”
Jeff frowned. “Are you saying that Floyd hinted at somebody else, and then he changed his story to cover up for this person?”
Addison nodded. “I know this sounds strange, but when I encountered Caleb Vize, he kept talking about ‘the man.’ He said this man warned him we were coming to get him. Caleb was high, and it must have fueled his paranoia even more.”
He could hardly believe it. “What else did he say?”
Addison shook her head. “That was it. He killed my partner, and I had to shoot him in self-defense.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Jeff said. “But why come to me about this? Why didn’t you talk to your superiors?”
“If they found out I was still on this case, I’d face suspension,” Addison said. “I came to you because I think you might know this third man. You’ve got all the records in your company, right?”
“It’s in the office, why? What do you need?”
“I was looking at Floyd’s payroll stubs while he was working with you,” she said. “From what you told me before, Caleb Vize was supposed to be his supervisor, right?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Well, I saw about a half dozen pay s
lips, and it was signed by you instead. But from what you told me before, you said you barely knew Floyd,” Addison said.
Jeff pushed his lower lip out. “I sometimes end up signing off for everybody. There are times when the foremen aren’t around and I would give the paychecks out myself. I might have given Floyd a few every now and then.”
“Yeah, I can understand that,” Addison said. “But was there another worker in your business that Floyd might have been close to? In addition to Caleb?”
Jeff scratched the back of his head. “Not that I know of.”
“What about Caleb? Was he close to anyone other than Floyd?”
Jeff shook his head. “No. Caleb was mostly a loner. He didn’t get along with the other guys in the crew. He was a good man and a good worker, before he got into drugs. I think Floyd probably got him into it.”
“Well they were cellmates in prison, so you might have a point there,” Addison said while pacing around the living room. “I can’t help but think I’m just missing something.”
Jeff sighed. “I’m sorry I can’t help you any more than I could, detective, but I think I need to get going. I got some friends to meet with later.”
Addison held her hand up as she started walking towards the door. “I’m really sorry for bothering you this evening. I need to get going too.”
“No problem,” Jeff said as he walked ahead of her to open the door.
As she passed by a set of pictures on the wall, Addison noticed a group photograph of Jeff and his staff. She had seen the picture at her last visit, but it never really dawned on her to have a closer look until now. It seemed to be a picture taken from an office Christmas party. Jeff stood in the center of the photograph, and standing right beside him with an arm draped over his shoulder was Caleb Vize. Both of them grinned wildly for the camera, beer cans prominently held high in celebration.
The Girl in the Darkness Page 13
