by Skylar Finn
Her search became frantic. Her gaze landed on the crude wooden nightstand with no drawer in it. Where she’d parked her gum when she woke up with it still in her mouth, thankfully not lodged in her windpipe or tangled in her long, brown hair.
She grabbed the gum and chewed quickly and furiously as she scuttled over to the tray and pulled it the rest of the way through, so he’d hear it scraping across the floor and know that she was taking the food off of it.
She took off both plates. She took the gum out of her mouth and used a tiny piece to affix the receipt to the bottom of the tray. She turned it back over and put the second plate back on. Inspired, she thrust the tiny pencil into the mashed potatoes. She slid the tray back through, careful not to dislodge the note and the gum. She held her breath and waited.
The sound of his footsteps in the hall. As usual, they gradually receded and faded out of hearing range. They didn’t turn around and rapidly return, menacing stomping attached to harsh words. The message made it.
Now all she had to do was wait to see if Crystal would find it and write back.
18
Hunting Season
I wanted to know for sure if what we had witnessed at the greenhouse was what I thought it was. We couldn’t make a narcotics-based arrest on purely circumstantial evidence alone. The last thing we needed was a lawsuit, and our priority was getting Brittany and Crystal back.
I wanted to know if there was anything to my theory that Lipman and Hayes were up to their necks in drugs, which either resulted in the kidnappings themselves or was the impetus for their recent attempt to move the weight, as a desperate attempt to make extra money to get the girls back.
Harper was exceptionally good at both interviewing and interrogating people without allowing them to realize it was an interrogation. He had an exceptional ability to make people feel at ease and to adjust his personality based on the needs of the individual. He was the one who suggested returning to the greenhouse to interview whoever was working out of the likelihood it had been the same person who sold Katy Lipman her extra-large order of fertilizer.
“Small town like this, it was probably either the owner or the same person who works every day shift in the place,” he said. “I’m also wondering if they keep track of that type of order—if it raises a red flag, given the level of drug-related activity in the hills—or if a construction company can get by undetected, especially if the owners are well-known in the area.”
I had a feeling that in the case of Hayes and Lipman, it was probably the latter. But people had any number of tells when they were being questioned by a figure of authority, let alone two. The owner or worker’s behavior under questioning would be a strong indicator that there was more than met the eye going on, or if there was, they were simply oblivious to it.
We turned off the main road and up the long, winding driveway. At first, I thought there was nobody there. The property appeared empty. As we got out of the car, I could just make out the top of a pink kerchief bobbing up and down between the long aisles of plants inside the long glass building.
We went inside. It was humid, and I felt conspicuous in my long, dark-gray coat. For all my digs at Harper, I had made no particular attempt of my own to blend in. Harper took off his gloves and slid them into his pockets. We approached the bright-pink spot bobbing in the distance.
An older woman in a pink gardening smock held a pair of shears and leaned over a small tree while she hummed. She glanced up, looking mildly surprised by our sudden appearance. “Oh, hello,” she said. “I didn’t even hear you come in. What can I do for you today?”
“We had a question about one of your customers,” said Harper. He flashed his shield briefly, and I did the same. “We’re investigating a kidnapping.”
“Oh, those poor girls.” Her face immediately clouded over with sadness. “Who would want to do such a thing?”
“That’s what we’d like to find out,” I said. “How well do you know Katy Lipman of Lipman and Hayes?”
Her eyes lit up. “Katy Lipman! Such a wonderful girl.” She beamed.
I was already leaning toward marking her in the “oblivious” category.
“I’ve been selling to her for years now, ever since she took over her father’s business and partnered with that nice Daniel Hayes from across the river. Such an unspeakable tragedy, his daughter going missing. I get a lot of business from them.”
“What kind of business?” asked Harper.
“Oh, landscaping, mostly. They put a lot into their sites. They buy trees, plants, shrubs, flowers. I keep meaning to ask if I can see one of them once it’s done. I’d love to see how it all turns out. Of course, I’m so busy here, and so are they, it just about always slips my mind.” She laughed.
“Fertilizer?” I asked.
“What?” She looked confused for a moment. “Yes, of course. For all the plants, dear.”
“Do they ever just buy the fertilizer?” asked Harper. “No plants?”
She frowned, thinking. “You know, I’m not sure. I’ve been selling to them for so long, I never really thought about it. They put in quite a large order recently, I suppose.”
“How much?”
“Oh, about fifteen, twenty bags, maybe? Or thirty. I can’t remember.” It was a pretty significant gap. She frowned, thinking.
“Thirty bags?” asked Harper, raising his eyebrows. “Is that standard for them?”
“I’d say so. It’s a part of their business, so it’s pretty standard.”
Even if they were cooking, it was an excessive amount. Unless they had labs all over the state. The robbery on the farm indicated they were using the anhydrous ammonia instead of the ammonium nitrate found in agricultural fertilizers. Unless they were using it for explosives.
“Does this have anything to do with the girls?” She looked concerned. “With Daniel Hayes’ daughter?” They didn’t even have names. Crystal apparently didn’t warrant a mention at all.
“Just asking some routine questions,” said Harper vaguely. It was a completely nonspecific and fuzzy platitude that tended to reassure people for no good reason. The greenhouse worker was no exception.
“Oh, good.” She looked relieved. She probably didn’t like the idea of inadvertently informing on that wonderful girl Katy Lipman and nice Daniel Hayes. “I hope it helps. Hopefully, they just ran off to scare their parents and you’ll get them back soon.”
This lady was one of the eternal optimists who thought that everything would work out for the best, it was all probably fine, and the instant that any figure of authority intervened, everything was bound to turn out just great.
We thanked her for her time and left the greenhouse. Harper put his gloves back on. I wound my scarf more tightly around my face. I was still feeling pretty under the weather.
I heard it before I saw anything. A rustle in the bushes. It could have been no more than just the wind, but I was already gazing into the trees. It was a force of habit from years of maintaining constant vigilance of my surroundings and whatever might be lurking just out of my eye line.
He was camouflaged so well that I might have mistaken him for the forest and surrounding shrubbery had he not moved to aim the scope of his rifle. We were nearly to the car and instinctively, reflexively, I reached out and grabbed Harper’s arm.
We were on the ground when a hail of bullets ripped across the parking lot. I rolled under the car, using it as a shield. Harper crawled beneath it beside me. The short series of cracks were over as quickly as they started. I waited a few additional minutes to be sure before sliding out from underneath the car on the side away from the woods and leaning against the door while I checked myself for injuries.
“Did he get you?” Harper touched my arm, concerned.
I examined my shoulder. The sleeve of my coat was ripped, but there was no associated pain, no blossom of red blooming underneath. Either a bullet had just grazed me, or it was from hitting the gravel lot.
“No, I’m good,” I s
aid.
Harper took off into the surrounding tree line, gun drawn. I got to my feet and followed. We crashed through the underbrush. There was no sign of anyone.
It was as if they had vanished.
If I was expecting Agent Brown to go all in on our meth theory at the news of the attempted shooting at the greenhouse, I was mistaken.
“It’s Lombardo,” she said, grimly certain. “He has a hunting license.”
“Okay,” I said, for lack of a better word. “We’re certain that it’s him?”
“I don’t think there can be any doubt of it now,” she said. “We’ll set up a parameter around the woods. He might be camped out back there with the girls. There are a hundred hollows in these woods where he could be hiding.”
There were if it had been Lombardo, which I was certain that it wasn’t. But this was Brown and Manning’s show, and if they were confident it was an unaccounted-for pedophile who’d gone off the grid, there would be little I could say or do to convince them it was the side effect of a meth ring.
“Talk to Hayes and Deakins again,” she said. “See if there’s any connection between him and Brittany and Crystal. If they’ve ever seen him, hanging around the school or if the girls mentioned anyone strange trying to talk to them at their after-school job or walking home from school.”
“Of course.” I wanted a second round with Daniel Hayes, but I had a very different agenda in mind.
When Harper and I returned to Lipman & Hayes, both Jeeps were in the parking lot. “Might as well kill two birds with one stone,” I said.
Harper was silent, his gaze stony. Firing on two agents had changed his approach to Daniel and Katy. I could see that much. I didn’t envy them.
Harper knocked like he planned to break to door down with his fist. A very nervous, very hassled-looking Daniel Hayes answered. He looked, if possible, even more neurotic than usual.
“Agents,” he said. “What can I—can I help you?”
“You can start by telling us what you’re planning on doing with your fertilizer.” Harper narrowed his eyes at Hayes.
Hayes paled visibly. He stepped aside to let us in, bustling over to the Keurig and immediately brewing a fresh cup of coffee. “Can I get you coffee? Please, have a seat.” He glanced up, his gaze wandering around. “Katy is here, somewhere. We’re happy to answer any questions you might have.” He laughed, oddly and inappropriately. “Fertilizer! We’ve gotten questions before, of course. Living in the times that we do. But we genuinely use it for landscaping purposes.”
“Is that so?” Harper remained standing. I accepted the cup of coffee Hayes proffered. Harper did not. “Is that why somebody shot at us over at the greenhouse when we inquired after your buying habits?”
He looked genuinely shocked. “Shot at you?” He hesitated. “Well, it is hunting season, isn’t it? I’ve never hunted myself, so I couldn’t really say for sure—"
“They weren’t hunting deer, Mr. Hayes,” I interrupted him. “They were hunting us.”
His face fell. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”
“Mr. Hayes, I’m going to be blunt with you.” Harper leaned over his desk. “We know you’re hiding something. I could easily go out on a limb and assume that you’re the one who took Brittany and Crystal and you’re hiding them somewhere, perhaps at your site. We could charge you with kidnapping, conspiracy, obstruction of justice. We can get warrants for your property—your home, your business, your site—and even if we don’t find the girls, we will find whatever else you’re hiding. So you might as well just start talking now.”
The line where an agent in real life intersects with the cinematic portrayal of federal agents in movies and in TV is sometimes where it comes in handy to scare a civilian with what they’ve been subconsciously groomed to expect if they’re going to go down for a massive crime. It’s something I’ve used to my advantage in the past. It was highly effective here. Daniel Hayes was so strung out it would have taken a feather to knock him over.
He started blubbering like a baby. “Please—no—I would never—I love Brittany!” he sobbed. “Cynthia and I have our problems, but I would never harm my daughter.” It was the first time I heard him refer to her that way, and I believed him. He might be a drug dealer and a womanizer, but it didn’t entail he was a kidnapper, too. “You don’t understand. That isn’t it at all.”
“What is it, then?”
I wondered if Hayes was going to crack right then and there. I probably would have, if I had been on the receiving end of Harper glaring at me from above like an angry god in Greek mythology, intent on dolling out punishment.
“I wasn’t going to wait to get her back,” he wept. “I was going to leave. With Katy. We’d been planning it for so long. I promised her that no matter what happened, we would leave. I didn’t want to go without knowing what happened to Brittany and leave Cynthia alone. But what could I do? Stay here forever?” He emitted a dry, pathetic sob.
“You’re having an affair with your partner?” I asked.
His wife had indicated as much. It hadn’t surprised me. Nothing much surprised me anymore.
“It’s been going on for years.” He sniffled. “I wanted to keep my family together. I didn’t feel right about leaving Cynthia and Brittany. She’s just a young girl. She needs a father figure in her life. And Cynthia, she would have just gone to pieces. So Katy and I kept our relationship on this side of the river.”
How noble of you, I thought. “But recently, that changed?”
“I’d been promising her for so long. When Brittany went to college, when Cynthia was doing better mentally. But Katy wants a family. She didn’t want to wait forever. She needed to be with me, or she needed to move on. And I couldn’t bear the thought of my life without her.”
“So you decided to get rid of Brittany?” said Harper harshly. “Make things a little bit easier for you to walk away?”
“No! I would never. When Brittany went missing, I knew we couldn’t go anywhere, couldn’t do anything until we got her back. But Katy thinks she ran away. What if we never get her back? It would just be one more thing keeping us apart.”
Hayes was a mess. It was obvious we weren’t going to get anything else out of him, at least not today. Back in the car, sitting in the parking lot, I thought about the tangled viper’s nest we’d stumbled upon.
“He’s lying,” said Harper, gazing stonily through the windshield at the office.
“Trading one secret to cover up a larger one,” I said. “We’ll have to catch them in the act. It’s the only thing that might lead us to the girls.”
19
What the Heart Can’t Take
After the shooting at the greenhouse, I was a little shaken, but mostly grimly resolved to get to the bottom of it all. Now they would all start throwing each other under the bus. Daniel Hayes and Katy Lipman would protect each other until the end, but I knew that for April Deakins, there was no love lost for the pair of them and no loyalty, either.
We went to April’s house. The door was wide open, and at first, I thought something had happened. Maybe whoever had fired on us had already made short work of her. Harper thought the same thing. I could feel him tense beside me, his hand drifting down to his sidearm.
But there was nothing amiss. Aside from the conspicuous absence of Randall—leading me to wonder just who had shot at us from the woods—April sat, smoking in her living room, both the front and back doors open to the unseasonably pleasant weather. She glanced up, saw us in the doorway, and went back to smoking.
“Hey, it’s a party,” she said. “You fuckers find my daughter yet? No? Can’t say I’m surprised.”
I took this as permission to enter. She was clearly drunk, so I opted not to take it personally.
“We think the person who took your daughter—and Brittany Hayes—might be ransoming them for drugs,” I said. “We’re going to need some answers. If you help us, that can change things for you. If you don’t cooperate, we’re go
ing to have to take you in. You’ll go down as long and hard as Daniel Hayes and Katy Lipman.”
“You think I give a damn about those people?” She exhaled a lengthy stream of smoke into the room. “They’re the reason my daughter’s missing. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t care if they rot in hell. Or a jail cell. It’s all the same to me.”
“What are they doing?” asked Harper bluntly.
“Cooking meth,” she said, just as blunt. “They got a whole little operation going. That construction business, it’s just a front. I doubt they built anything for the last three years. Maybe longer. They go around, buying up lots and starting their ‘sites,’ but it’s really just a shell for the lab. It moves around.”
“So their current site is a meth lab?”
“Probably not the actual place itself,” she said. “But maybe somewhere nearby it.”
“How do you know all this?”
“I was buying from him,” she said. “I been clean since my daughter disappeared. I want you to know that. Nothing but diet pills and caffeine, maybe a little bit of weed. And cigarettes and alcohol. But no hard stuff.”
I believed her. It was hard not to believe someone who considered five other substances on par with sobriety. Hers was a strange logic, but understandable if you considered meth and Oxy “the hard stuff.” Things that would only create a light dependency or generally dull the senses would hardly rate compared to the other two.
“How did you wind up buying from Daniel Hayes?” I asked.
“His wife,” she said.
“His wife?” asked Harper.
“Oh, yeah. We go way back, Cynthia and me.” She laughed a hard, bitter laugh. “You think she’s some big-city girl who settled down with a small-town boy? She ain’t nothin’ but river trash. Lucas Bottomlands trash, at that. Living in a trailer on the flood plain till the river gets too high and washes out all the rats. Where we’re from, my people looked down on the likes of her.
