by Lisa Regan
Josie stood and offered an arm to Mettner. “I’m sorry,” she said to Tru and Renee. “We’ll let her rest. Let’s go, Mett.”
Twenty-One
Once they left the barn, they walked the rest of the property looking for stragglers, their flashlight beams sweeping back and forth in front of them. Mettner feigned a limp. They only found two more members in the greenhouse but neither of them recognized Emilia Gresham. Even in the rain, the heat and humidity hadn’t let up. After covering a great deal of ground at the Sanctuary, they trudged back to Mettner’s vehicle soaked with sweat. Mettner blasted his air conditioner as Josie pulled her seat belt on. “What was that all about? With that guy and the sick girl.”
“I talked with her earlier today. I think she was injured. I think someone is hurting her. She wouldn’t say it outright, but all the signs are there.” Josie recapped both encounters with Renee Kelly.
“So the big blond dude was there to make sure she didn’t say anything to the police,” Mettner said.
“Great job distracting him, by the way,” Josie laughed.
“Sorry, I couldn’t think of anything else. Also, I figured if I caused a scene, that would also have everyone else’s attention on me and not you.”
“Good thinking.”
At the bottom of the hill down the road from the Sanctuary, Mettner pulled over onto the shoulder of the road and cut his headlights. “So I guess we’re waiting here for two hours, then.”
“It will be worth it if she comes,” Josie promised. “You heard what she said when I showed her Emilia’s photograph.”
“Yeah, ‘She’s not here,’” Mettner supplied. “Everyone else said, ‘Never seen her’ or ‘Don’t recognize her.’”
“Right. ‘She’s not here’ implies that she was there at some point. Renee knows things that the others don’t want her to tell.”
“But I thought this Charlotte was some organic nature goddess or something—all about peace and love and that kind of stuff. That’s how Fraley made it sound.”
“He was right,” Josie said. “That’s exactly how Charlotte portrayed it, but those people are hiding something.”
“Well, all cults have something to hide, don’t they?”
“You could argue that,” Josie said. “We need to know if whatever they’re hiding has anything to do with the murders of Tyler and Valerie Yates or the disappearance of the third camper.”
She leaned back into the seat and took her phone out, turning the brightness down to its lowest level where she could still see it, but it wouldn’t attract attention, and shot off texts to Noah and Gretchen to let them know what was going on.
The rain pelted the car’s roof, lulling Josie into a near-sleep. Her eyes burned with fatigue. The nightmare of the night before and the early morning lovemaking with Noah seemed like an eternity ago. They watched the road, eventually tossing out theories about the case in order to stay awake. One hour passed, then another.
Renee Kelly was not coming.
“Dammit,” Josie said.
“What do you want to do?” Mettner asked.
Josie’s head sank into her hands. “She knows something, Mett. She’s in trouble.”
“You can’t make her come out, boss, and you can’t storm the property and take her—or sneak her out. Shit, we’re not even in our own jurisdiction.”
Josie looked up at the rain-soaked windshield and swore.
Mettner asked, “You want to wait longer?”
“Gretchen’s on all night, right? We’ll ask her to come and wait. At least for a little while.”
Mettner took out his phone and called the station. Twenty minutes later, Gretchen pulled up behind them. Josie got out of Mettner’s car and ran to Gretchen’s window. “Thanks for doing this,” she said.
“Not a problem, boss,” Gretchen replied.
“Is Noah still at the station?”
“He said he was going over to the hospital to check on the baby.”
“Did someone call?” Josie asked. “Is the baby okay?”
“No one called. He finished up background checks on the list of people you guys talked to at the Sanctuary. No red flags. Nothing of interest. A couple of them had old DUIs and a few others had speeding tickets but that was it. Then he worked on the Tyler Yates angle and when he was finished, he got up and said he was going to the hospital to see how Baby Bestler was doing.”
Josie felt a kernel of anxiety break open inside her, but she ignored it, focusing instead on the case. “Did he get anywhere with Tyler Yates?”
“He talked to a few friends who didn’t know a hell of a lot. The Facebook friends he was able to get in touch with are people Tyler went to high school with or worked with at a fast food place when he was sixteen. They haven’t actually talked to him or seen him in person in ten years. Noah did manage to find out where Tyler worked.”
“That sounds promising,” Josie said.
“He was a consultant for Bratina Property Management. Noah called and confirmed with them that he isn’t expected back at work for another week. It was a pre-planned vacation.”
Josie swiped at the rain falling into her eyes. Too late, she realized she should have gotten into the car for this conversation. “Well, that doesn’t help much. What about Valerie Yates?”
“She was a schoolteacher at an elementary school in Fox Mill so she’s off for the summer.”
“Family members?” Josie asked.
“As it turns out, she’s originally from Australia. Noah managed to get in touch with her parents, but they won’t be able to get here for a couple of days. They weren’t too sure about her friends. Noah emailed them a photo of Valerie and Tyler with Emilia Gresham to see if they recognize her or know anything about her. He’s waiting on a response.”
“He’s waiting at the hospital, I guess.”
By the low light of the dash, Josie saw Gretchen’s quizzical look. “He’s got the email app on his phone. I’m sure he’ll let us know as soon as he hears anything.”
Josie forced a smile. “Yes, he will. Did you find anything out about Emilia Gresham?”
“I asked the local PD to do a welfare check. There was no answer at her apartment. I found a work profile on LinkedIn. She’s the director of the Stepping Stones Baptist Church Pre-K program. I was able to confirm that she just took two weeks of paid vacation. Although the Pre-K program is out of session, they’re running summer camps that Emilia also oversees.”
“She was probably camping with the Yates couple,” Josie said.
“It’s looking more and more likely. Here’s where things get interesting. I asked who the emergency contact was, and they said her husband, Jack Gresham.”
“He must be the man in Tyler Yates’ photos,” Josie said. “Did you check his driver’s license photo?”
“He shows up in the database as a potential relative of Emilia’s, and yes, I matched his driver’s license photo to Tyler Yates’ photos. It’s the same guy. Same mailing address as Emilia. However, his cell phone has been disconnected, and his driver’s license expired last year and was not renewed.”
Josie frowned. “Did you check for a death certificate?”
“I did,” Gretchen replied. “No death certificate. No obituary. Emilia’s boss seemed to think he was alive and well. So did her family, by the way.”
“What?”
“I was able to get in touch with a sister. Apparently, Emilia is from Rhode Island, one of seven children. Her mother passed away when she was a senior in high school, and her father is battling prostate cancer. Her sister said she calls once a week. They heard from her two days ago, but she didn’t say anything about camping.”
“Did you ask the sister if Emilia had mentioned her husband?” Josie asked. She had a creeping sense of dread thinking about Emilia and the way her husband, Jack, had disappeared from Tyler Yates’ photos two years earlier.
“Her sister said that Emilia told her Jack was fine, just working a lot.”
“Rea
lly? Where does Jack work?”
Gretchen put on her reading glasses, took out her notebook, flipped through some pages, and then held it up to the light coming from the dash, reading from her notes. “He worked in the service department of Cloudserv Technologies. They lease copiers and other office equipment.”
“What did they say when you called them?”
“That he was laid off due to cutbacks three and a half years ago.”
“Really?” Josie said.
“Yes,” Gretchen answered. “Really. Like I said, I asked the local PD where the Greshams live to go to the residence for Emilia’s welfare check, but no one was at their residence. They asked around about both Greshams. One of the neighbors said they haven’t seen Jack in ages but couldn’t say how long ‘ages’ was—could be months or even a couple of years. The same neighbor did say that Emilia left with some bags a few days ago.”
Josie took this in. “I take it Jack Gresham was not reported missing.”
“He was not.”
“Did you tell Emilia’s sister that we thought she might be missing?” Josie asked.
“I told her we had found the Yateses passed away during what appeared to be a camping trip. Didn’t get into the homicide angle. She recognized their names. She said they’ve been friends with Emilia and Jack for many years. She was very upset. I told her we thought Emilia was with them, but she said Emilia hadn’t mentioned anything about going camping when they last spoke to her. She asked me if Jack was with them because they always do everything together. I told her it didn’t appear that he had been. She said she didn’t think Emilia was with them. I texted her a photo of the gold chain and heart-shaped charm we found in the sleeping bag, but she didn’t recognize it.”
“But she lives in Rhode Island so she might not see Emilia frequently enough to be familiar with what jewelry she wears on a regular basis,” Josie said. “Did you ask her about the book we found in the car?” Josie asked.
“Yeah, she knew the one I was talking about. She said that’s Emilia’s favorite series. She’s read it dozens of times.”
“Let me guess: she said because she spends so much time with Valerie and Tyler, she could have just left the book in the car.”
Gretchen held up a finger, clarifying, “Because she and Jack spend so much time with them, yes.”
“She’s in denial. I would be too,” Josie said. “No one wants to face something like this—that their sister’s best friends were found dead and that she might be missing or worse—and if they’re already dealing with their father’s cancer diagnosis…”
“This would be horribly devastating,” Gretchen finished.
“Where did you leave things?”
“She’s going to drive down to Furlong tomorrow, she says, and talk with Jack. That is, if she can’t get in touch with Emilia tonight. I got Emilia’s cell phone number from her. I already got a warrant so we can try to locate her phone since it wasn’t at the campsite. I sent it to her cell phone carrier and asked that it be expedited.”
“Great,” Josie said. “I’m getting soaked. Mett and I will go back to the station. I’ll see you tomorrow unless Renee shows.”
“You got it.”
Mettner dropped Josie off at the station so she could finish up on some paperwork. She typed away at her reports as she thought about what they knew. Valerie and Tyler had been good friends with Emilia and Jack Gresham. They’d done everything together, which was evident from Tyler Yates’ Facebook photos. They were four young professionals. Two married couples. Then something happened. Jack was laid off from work. He disappeared from the photos. His and Emilia’s neighbor stopped seeing him.
She called Gretchen. “No sign of the girl,” she told Josie.
“I don’t think she’s going to show. Listen, I’ve been thinking about the Greshams. It sounds like Jack has been MIA for a while now.”
“If you put all the pieces we have so far together, yes.”
“But it doesn’t sound like Emilia has told anyone. If he was laid off three years ago, why would she tell her sister he was working a lot?”
“Maybe he had gotten another job?”
“Possibly.”
“We don’t know what his situation is,” Gretchen said. “He could be having an affair; they could be separated; he could be hooked on drugs.”
Josie nodded along with each suggestion even though Gretchen couldn’t see her. “But in all of those cases, he’d probably still have a phone.”
“Unless Emilia stopped paying for it, and he’s got a new number now.”
“True,” Josie said, but her mind was working in a different direction. She thought back to the expressionless faces of the people they’d questioned at the Sanctuary that day. She didn’t remember seeing anyone who resembled Jack Gresham, but the photos she had seen of him were a few years old. It was possible his hair might be different. He might have gained or lost weight. Grown a beard. “Where’s the list of people living at the Sanctuary?”
“The middle of Noah’s desk,” Gretchen answered. “You think Jack Gresham is living at the Sanctuary?”
Josie reached across to Noah’s desk and snatched up the list. She pored over it. “I don’t know but it’s pretty coincidental, don’t you think? He’s been somewhat unaccounted for, for a long period of time; his wife is covering up his absence; and then she and their two best friends go camping only miles away from the commune?”
Gretchen said, “I’m not sure we have enough information to draw that conclusion.”
“It’s a long shot,” Josie conceded. She finished studying the list and let out a long sigh. “And you’re right—he’s not on this list.”
She tossed the list back onto Noah’s desk and plopped into her chair. The first thumps of a headache began to pulse behind her eyes. “How about the Yateses’ phones? Did we get anything from the phone companies?”
“No. We probably won’t until tomorrow or the next day.”
From across the room, Josie heard the sound of Chief Bob Chitwood’s door opening and then his voice boomed, “Quinn, where are the other three?”
Josie swiveled in her chair, feeling the usual mixture of dread and irritation that Chitwood inspired in her and just about every other officer on the force. Chitwood had been appointed chief by the mayor nearly a year ago, after Josie’s short tenure as interim chief.
Josie said, “I’m on the phone with Gretchen, Noah’s at the hospital, and Mettner had to go home to shower. He’ll be back any second.”
As Chitwood moved closer, white wisps of his thinning hair floated over his head. He folded his arms across his rail-thin chest and stared down at her. “Put Palmer on speaker, would you?”
Josie pressed the speaker button on her cell phone. Gretchen said, “Chief?”
Chitwood said, “We’ve got two dead bodies and a missing woman. You know how I feel about bodies and missing women, don’t you?”
Josie stared at him blankly and said, “How’s that, sir?”
He bent at the waist, looming over her, and shouted, “I don’t want them in my city!”
Gretchen said, “Well, if it helps, Quinn found a missing woman today.”
For just a second, the corner of Chitwood’s mouth twitched as though he was fighting back a smile. Then he pointed a long, gnarled finger at the phone. Josie wanted to remind him that Gretchen couldn’t see him, but she didn’t dare speak. “Nobody likes a smart ass, Palmer.” He turned his gaze to Josie, “Good work with that baby, Quinn.”
The compliment was so unexpected and out of character for Chitwood that Josie barely got out the words, “Thank you, sir.”
He went on as though he hadn’t heard her. “I want to get ahead of both of these cases. I don’t need another press circus so soon after the Ross case, you got that?”
Neither of them responded. Chitwood continued, “You need to split your resources. Quinn and Fraley are on the Bestler mess. Palmer, you and Mettner will take the Yates and Gresham fiasco.”
Chitwood rolled his eyes and leaned over to shout into the phone. “You have fifteen years of experience in homicide, and guess what? I’m your boss, so you’re taking that case. Quinn hasn’t done half bad at abduction cases in the past, so she’s on Bestler. Speaking of you, Quinn.” He looked at her once more. She fought the urge to squirm beneath his flinty gaze. “Go the hell home and sleep, would you? I just talked to the Lenore County Sheriff’s department. You, Fraley, and a couple of their guys are going into the caverns tomorrow to try and find the guy who took Maya Bestler. Fraley told me Moore was dragging ass today so I called his Chief. He sent Moore to the hospital earlier to have Maya Bestler look at maps. He was instructed to have her draw a diagram of inside the caverns if she can. Meet them at the county line on Route 9227 at eight a.m., got it?”
Into the caverns.
She felt her throat closing, panic a vise around her neck.
“Quinn,” Chitwood barked. “You got that?”
Unable to force words out, Josie nodded.
Twenty-Two
Josie hung up with Gretchen and left the station house, heading home. She thought about stopping at the hospital to speak with Noah, but the panic raging inside her was still at a fever pitch. She wasn’t sure she could maintain her composure in a public place. Besides, she reasoned, Noah lived with her now. He’d have to come home eventually.
At home, she turned on all the lights on the first floor. Television couldn’t hold her attention, so she paced from room to room, her nerves jangling like loose change in her brain.
