by Lisa Regan
“From your desk,” Noah said. “In a thunderstorm, which means that you called the search off—that’s the extent of your coordinating.”
“I did more than that,” Mettner protested.
Noah smiled at him to let him know he was joking and added, “You know it was ninety-two degrees today. Josie and I had to throw our clothes away when we got home. Those kinds of sweat stains don’t come out in the wash.”
Gretchen reached into the large paper tote bag she’d brought in and produced another container, which she placed in front of Mettner. “Come on, Mett,” she said. “You think I’d forget about you?”
He smiled with childlike delight as he opened it and picked up a huge cheeseburger, slices of bacon hanging from beneath its bun, and bit into it. For a few moments, there was silence while the three of them ate.
Josie’s pasta was gone in record time. “That was delicious. You always remember what I like. Thank you.”
“Hey,” Noah said. “I always remember what you like, too.”
With a wide-eyed look of innocence, Josie said, “Yeah, but I bet Gretchen doesn’t have a toaster oven.”
Noah’s plastic fork struck her shoulder and she laughed.
Gretchen hung her raincoat over a nearby empty chair and sat at her desk. She shook water out of her short, spiked, brown hair. In her hand she held only a cup of coffee. “I ate before I got here,” she explained. “Fill me in. Where are we with the missing camper and this Maya Bestler thing?”
Noah said, “The death notification was made on Tyler’s dad, Wesley Yates. I just left him a voicemail message.”
Mettner said, “Boss found photos of a woman the Yateses hung out with all the time on Tyler’s Facebook page. Thinks it might be the third camper.”
Josie said, “We’re hoping Wesley Yates can either tell us who went camping with them or the name of the woman in the photos.”
“In the meantime,” Mettner said, “I’m going to work through Tyler’s friend list to see if anyone will talk to me and can tell me anything about the camping trip and whether they know the woman’s name.”
“We’re also waiting for Hummel to get back. He was in Lenore County with the ERT processing the Yates vehicle,” Josie added. “Right now, I’m going to call Garret Romney, Maya Bestler’s former boyfriend; give him the news that she’s been found; and ask if he knew the Yates couple.”
Gretchen said, “While you’re doing that, I’m going to search the National Crime Information Center database for any other homicides where a crude homemade black walnut necklace was found inside or around the body.”
“Good call,” Josie said. She picked up her phone and dialed. After four rings, a man’s voice answered.
“Mr. Romney?” Josie asked. “Garrett Romney?”
Suspicion quickened his tone. “Who is this?”
“My name is Josie Quinn. I’m a detective with the Denton Police Department.”
“Denton?” He said. “Where’s that?”
“We’re about two hours west of where you live,” she explained. “North of Lenore County.”
There was an icy silence.
“Mr. Romney?”
“When are you assholes going to drop this? I didn’t kill my girlfriend. It’s been two years. You need to let this go. I’m calling my lawyer.”
“Maya’s alive,” Josie blurted.
Another beat of silence. Then she heard two small gasps. He said, “Maya’s alive?”
“Yes. She was found today. She’s hospitalized but stable. She thought you would want to know.”
“I don’t—I can’t—” he stammered. “Why are you telling me this?”
Josie wasn’t sure she wanted to put Maya Bestler back in touch with someone who had allegedly abused her, but she had asked for Garrett to be notified; and sooner or later he would find out. “I actually have some questions for you about an unrelated case—”
He cut her off. “You’re trying to pin something else on me now? What did Maya say? She told you it wasn’t me, right? She said that, right?”
“Yes,” Josie said. “By her account, you had nothing to do with her abduction.”
“Abduction?” he said and the question in his tone surprised Josie.
She said, “Yes, abduction. Someone took her and held her captive. What did you think happened to her?”
He laughed humorlessly. “Honestly? I thought she ran off, hid somewhere; let me take the blame for this whole thing. I know she wanted to leave me.”
And yet, Garrett was the first and only person that Maya had asked about.
“Well, she was abducted,” Josie told him. “Now she’s safe. If you wouldn’t mind answering a few questions for me—”
“I said no.”
“Do you know anyone named Tyler or Valerie Yates?”
“Never heard of them,” he said, hostility dripping from every syllable.
Before he could hang up, Josie slipped in another question. “When was the last time you were in Lenore County?”
“Eighteen months ago, and I’m not coming back there so don’t even ask.”
“There’s no need for you to return to Lenore County,” she said. “But you’re welcome to come to Alcott County if you’d like to visit Maya.”
“You think I want to visit that bitch? Tell you what—why don’t you give her a message for me? Tell her to go to hell.”
The line went dead. Josie pulled the phone away from her face and stared at it as if Garrett Romney’s rage could be seen emanating from it.
“What was that about?” Noah asked.
Josie shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure.”
She sincerely hoped that Garrett Romney decided not to visit Maya. “You would think that if your girlfriend went missing two years ago from a campsite in the middle of the night, and you knew you had nothing to do with her vanishing, you’d be happy to hear that she was found alive.”
Gretchen said, “That would be the normal response.”
“That guy obviously has some issues,” Mettner interjected. “I could hear him all the way over here.”
Noah said, “You think we need to talk to him in person?”
“No,” Josie said. “I don’t. Maya didn’t implicate him.”
“You think he could have been involved in the new case?” Mettner asked.
Josie said, “I strongly doubt it. I think a more likely suspect in the Yates case is the man who took and held Maya.”
Noah said, “I checked that file Moore gave us. The Bestler/Romney campsite was only five miles from where the Yateses were camping.”
“You think Romney was lying about not knowing the Yateses?” Gretchen asked.
Josie shook her head. “No. He didn’t hesitate. I don’t think he knew them. I didn’t see his name on Tyler’s list of Facebook friends either. We could look for other connections—workplaces, maybe—but I’m not sure they exist. I don’t think he warrants any more of our focus at this point.”
Gretchen said, “I agree. By the way, nothing in the NCIC about black walnuts or black walnut necklaces.”
Hummel walked into the great room, carrying a small, brown paper evidence bag in his gloved hands. “Got something for you, boss.”
Josie cleared some space on her desk, and Hummel shook out the contents of the paper bag. It was a dog-eared paperback book: Strength: Mark of Nexus Book 1 by Carrie Butler. Noah walked over and stared at it. “Looks like a good book,” he said. “But I’m not sure how this helps us.”
With mock seriousness, Hummel said, “Watch it, Fraley, or next time you’ll be bagging your own vomit.” He used a gloved finger to open the front cover of the book. Inside, along the top left-hand side of the cover in thick magic marker someone had written: E. Gresham.
“Where was this?” Josie asked.
“In the back seat of the Yateses’ car,” Hummel answered.
Mettner came around and looked at it. “I’m not sure that means anything. It could be a used book.”
“It’s well-worn,” Josie said. “Whoever E. Gresham is—she read this a lot.”
“How do we know it’s a she?” Gretchen said.
Noah examined the book and said, “This is a paranormal new adult romance, and it’s got a shirtless musclebound man on the cover. The odds are the owner is a woman.”
“Maybe it belongs to Valerie Yates,” Mettner suggested.
“No,” Josie said. “Valerie Yates had a paperback book in her backpack. Hummel, do you have a photo of it?”
“I uploaded them to the file already,” he said as he slid the copy of Strength back into the evidence bag and took off his gloves.
Josie used her mouse to pull up the photos from the Yates scene on her computer monitor. She clicked through several before coming to the contents of Valerie Yates’ backpack. “It’s called Too Blessed to be Stressed: Three Minute Devotions for Women by Debora M. Coty,” Josie said. She pulled up Amazon and looked the book up there. “This is a book aimed at inspiring Christian women and strengthening their faith. Not the same fare. I think we can assume that the book in the car belongs to E. Gresham.”
Noah was already at his computer. “Was there anyone named Gresham on the list of Tyler Yates’ Facebook friends?”
“Not that I remember,” Josie said.
“There weren’t,” Mettner said.
Noah clicked a few times with his mouse. “Let me see if I can find any E. Greshams in Fox Mill, Pennsylvania.”
Josie walked around the desks so she could peer over his shoulder. She watched as he entered the last name into the TLO XP database. No Greshams in Fox Mill. There were several Greshams in the state of Pennsylvania, however, seven of them with first names starting with E. Of those, four were female. Noah began pulling up their driver’s license photos. On the third one, Josie said, “That’s it! That’s her!”
Over Josie’s shoulder, Gretchen read the first name. “Emilia Gresham, twenty-eight. How do you know she’s the one we’re looking for?”
Josie said, “She’s the one in the photos with Tyler and Valerie Yates.”
“She lives in Furlong. Only a few miles from the Yateses,” Gretchen said. “Call the police there and ask them to do a welfare check.”
“On it,” Noah said, picking up his phone.
Gretchen nudged him aside, clicked a few things on the computer, and across the room one of the printers started to spit out papers. “There are a few potential relatives here,” she said. “I’ll look them up.”
“Perfect,” Josie said. “I’d like to confirm that she was with Tyler and Valerie Yates if we can, but even if we can’t, I think we should call WYEP and ask them to run her photo as a missing camper.”
“Isn’t that a little premature?” Mettner said. “We don’t know one hundred percent that she was the other camper.”
“True,” Josie conceded. “But if I’m right, and it is her, and she’s in trouble, we need to find her as quickly as possible. If her life is in danger, I don’t want to take any chances. With this weather, we won’t be able to use the K-9 unit until tomorrow—if it clears up. Maybe Gretchen can confirm with her known associates that she was on a camping trip. Regardless of what we turn up, I want her photo on the eleven o’clock news this evening. I’m not taking chances with her life. We can always retract the story later if we’ve got it wrong.”
Gretchen said, “I’m on it. I’ll get the Chief’s approval for the press coverage.”
“Thanks,” Josie said. “Also, I want to go back over to the commune and show Emilia Gresham’s photo to the people there.”
Mettner jumped up. “I’ll go with you.”
Noah laughed. “Feeling guilty about being dry and in the air conditioning all day, Mett?”
Mettner bristled. “I’m feeling like maybe I should be in the field.”
“Bring a poncho and prepare to sweat,” Josie told him. “Let’s go.”
Gretchen waved them off. “I’ll see what I can find out about Ms. Gresham.”
Noah said, “I’ll work on the Yateses’ known associates.”
“Someone should also go through the list of people actually living at the commune right now and do some background checks,” Josie said.
“We’ll handle it,” Gretchen assured her.
Twenty
Josie managed to avoid Charlotte during the trip to the Sanctuary with Mettner. The women who had worked in the kitchen earlier remembered her and let the two of them roam the property showing Emilia Gresham’s photo to every person they could find. Wearing ponchos and using flashlights Mettner had pulled from his trunk, they slogged through the wet grass down to the tent area. Only a few people remained there, including Megan, the commune nurse, but none of them recognized Emilia Gresham. Luckily, the storm had sent almost all the residents into the barn to wait it out. Most were seated in the center, propped up against the fronts of the stalls, so Josie and Mettner worked their way to the back of the barn, getting blank looks and monosyllabic answers. Josie kept an eye on the last stall to the right—Renee’s stall. Tru stood at the entrance to it, facing away from Josie and Mettner. His head was bent down, as though he was looking at the floor, or more likely, at Renee’s cot. He spoke in a hushed tone and even as Josie drew closer, she couldn’t make out what he said.
Finally, as she made it to the end, Josie stepped into the stall to find Renee curled up on the cot in the same long-sleeved shirt, pants, and boots as earlier. Her hands were tucked in fists beneath her chin. Tru looked at Josie, eyes wide. “You’re back. Did something happen?”
Josie smiled reassuringly. “No, we just have one more photo we wanted people to have a look at.” She showed him Emilia’s picture, but his expression showed no flicker of recognition. “Sorry,” he said. “Never saw her.”
“Well, thank you for looking,” Josie said, keeping the smile on her face. Pleasant. Non-threatening. “Do you mind if I have a moment with Renee?”
Tru looked from Josie to Renee and back. “She said she isn’t feeling well.”
“It will only take a minute.”
He looked out over the tops of the stalls, as if searching for someone—Charlotte? Someone else? Josie wondered. When he didn’t find who or what he was looking for, he said, “Um sure, I guess.”
He stepped out of the stall but stayed clearly within earshot. Josie wondered if he had been assigned to guard Renee. She took out her phone and fired off a text to Mettner.
Blond guy in the back right. Distract him.
She pocketed her phone and sat on the edge of Renee’s cot. “Hi Renee,” she said softly. “I’m back. Tru said you’re not feeling well. I’m sorry to hear that.”
No response.
Trying to buy time until Mettner got rid of Tru, Josie said, “I promise I won’t take up too much of your time. It’s just a photo of a young woman. Let me pull it up again. Now, where did it go?”
She saw the top of Mettner’s head as he strode down the center aisle. When he was five or six feet away from Renee’s stall, he went down. She heard his body thud on the floor, heard him mutter, “Shit,” and then Tru rushed toward him. “You okay, man?” Tru asked before his head disappeared beneath the top of the stalls. While Mettner made a fuss over his “bad knee”, fully capturing Tru’s attention, Josie leaned closer to Renee’s face.
Her heartbeat skipped when she saw a smear of blood on the outer edge of Renee’s hand, disappearing into her sleeve. It was fresh. “Renee,” Josie whispered. “I need you to be honest with me. Is someone here hurting you?”
The girl said nothing, but her eyes brimmed with tears. She closed them tightly, her entire body tensing. Josie continued, “You don’t have to stay here. I know you think you do, but you really don’t. I promise nothing bad will happen to you if you come with me.”
“I—I can’t,” Renee said, her voice hoarse, eyes open again, glassy and wide.
Josie looked up but didn’t see either Tru or Mettner. The heads of the people she could see appeared to be focuse
d on Mettner’s fake fall and knee injury.
“Okay,” Josie said. “Tell me what’s going on. I can help you.”
“I can’t tell.” Her voice was so small, Josie could barely make out the words.
“You can tell me.”
“That’s not how it works here.”
They were running out of time. “Then I’ll leave, and I’ll drive down the road and wait for you. At midnight—”
“No clocks,” Renee muttered.
Mettner was now upright, leaning heavily on Tru, who kept glancing back at Renee’s stall. “Right,” Josie said. “Okay, let’s do this. I’ll take my colleague and leave. We’ll drive down the road, to the right. There’s a hill. We’ll wait at the bottom for two hours. Say you’re going to the bathroom or for a walk or whatever. Come find us and we’ll take you away from here. You’ll be safe, I promise.”
She touched Renee’s shoulder and the girl flinched. “Can you do that for me?”
No response.
“Can you try?”
She squeezed her eyes shut again and gave a small nod.
As Tru dragged Mettner back toward Renee’s stall, Josie thought of something else. “Are you able to leave this stall? Or are they holding you here against your will?”
Before Renee could answer, Tru and Mettner stumbled into the stall. “Boss,” Mettner said, his face twisted in imaginary pain. “I think I messed up my knee.”
“Okay,” Josie said. “We’ll get going.” She looked at her phone. “Here’s the photo,” she said. “Renee?”
The girl opened her eyes and stared at Emilia Gresham. “She’s not here.”
Josie and Tru spoke at the same time.
Josie said, “She’s not here right now. But you saw her? You know her?”
Tru said, “Renee needs her rest.”
He left Mettner leaning on the stall door and moved over, kneeling and inserting himself between Josie and Renee.
Josie calculated in her mind. If she pressed the issue now, they might clam up even more. She might cause more trouble for Renee. Then she’d get nothing. Emilia would still be missing, and Renee would be worse for wear. She thought about tracking Charlotte down and confronting her, but she didn’t believe for a moment that Charlotte would be honest. Certainly, she wouldn’t admit to Josie that anything criminal was happening on her property. If she was complicit in whatever was happening to Renee, then confronting her would only alert her to Josie’s suspicions. What would happen to Renee then? No, Josie had to be very careful. Her only choice was to retreat and hope that Renee took her up on the offer to meet down the road later.
