Andy’s freckled face reddened, and he looked toward Eddings.
“I was getting a coffee when I got the call from Eddings that she’d been here,” Andy admitted. “I didn’t know she left the station. I didn’t see her leave.”
Putting a hand on Andy’s arm, Peyton guided him toward the house, waving for Eddings to follow her.
“You two set up a perimeter,” she instructed. “We need to search the house and call the crime scene techs out here.”
“Looks like you’ve got a party going on here, partner.”
Peyton turned around to see that Marc Ingram had arrived. Her partner’s face was twisted into his usual scowl.
“I heard a homicide had been called in and thought I’d see if I can help. I figured Vanzinger and Jankowski might be busy with their little task force, and Nessa told me you’ve been re-assigned.”
He shot a dirty look at Santino, then caught sight of the other men.
“Is the WBPD so desperate for help we call on amateurs now?” he said, glaring at Frankie and Barker. “And why is there a reporter at the scene before it’s been secured?”
Peyton stepped between Ingram and Hunter.
“Ingram, this isn’t your case.”
Her voice was firm as she met Ingram’s angry gaze.
“Says who?” Ingram asked, frowning as he moved closer.
“Says Chief Ainsley,” Santino said, stepping up beside Peyton and pulling out his USMS credentials. “She assigned Detective Bell to work with me and this scene is now under our control.”
For a minute Peyton thought Ingram was going to argue with Santino, but then he huffed and turned on his heel, stomping away into the dark.
Feeling Frankie’s eyes on her, Peyton looked over and met his gaze. He raised a hand to his forehead in a mock salute as Santino spoke beside her.
“Okay, then,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s go see what’s inside.”
✽ ✽ ✽
Peyton stared down at Mackenzie Jensen, her chest tightening at the thought of the poor woman’s last terrifying moments.
“The ME should be here soon,” Alma Garcia said, pausing to take several photographs of the journalist’s body. “In the meantime, you may want to get a look at what we found in the kitchen.”
The senior crime scene technician moved away, but her heavy perfume stayed behind to mingle with the odor of decomposition. Peyton guessed Alma had been enjoying a night out on the town when she’d been called to the crime scene.
Moving into the kitchen, Peyton saw Vanzinger and Jankowski huddled around the kitchen table. A small recorder sat on the table between the big men.
“What’s that?” Peyton asked.
Vanzinger put a finger to his mouth, signaling for her to be quiet, as Jankowski lowered his head toward the recorder.
“I can’t make out all the words,” Jankowski muttered, scratching absently at his impressive five o’clock shadow.
The big detective stuck out a finger to rewind the recording, as Peyton watched in confusion.
“Where’d you find that recorder?”
“It was in Mackenzie Jensen’s purse,” Vanzinger said, pressing the play button. “And it was still recording when we found it. This thing can keep going for like twenty hours.”
Straining to listen, Peyton made out the sound of muffled voices.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“That’s the last few minutes of Mackenzie Jensen’s life,” Santino said from the doorway. “She recorded her own homicide.”
The grim look on Santino’s face worried Peyton.
“You’ve listened to this already?” Vanzinger asked, turning his blue eyes to Santino. “Could you hear what they’re saying?”
“I heard enough to know that the fugitive I’m looking for has hooked up with someone named Diablo.”
Jankowski and Vanzinger gaped at him.
“You’re kidding, right?”
Santino walked to the table and picked up the recorder. He adjusted the volume as high as it would go and pressed play. A muffled woman’s voice sounded.
“Okay, so who’s your source? Who told you about Ling Lee’s past?”
A man’s voice responded. Peyton was able to make out most of the words as the conversation played out.
“I don’t think that matters …you’ve been too blind to see… you’ve been sleeping with the man the FBI, the WBPD, and now the U.S. Marshals Service have been looking for, and you never suspected a thing.”
Peyton’s eyes widened at Mackenzie’s next statement.
“Everyone in town knows you. You’re not that hard to find.”
No one around the table moved as Mackenzie admitted she had been trying to find the source of the information about Ling Lee. The man’s next words chilled Peyton to the bone.
“The man who gave me that information would kill me as soon as look at me. Besides, he and I have a deal. And if I let you live, you could cause trouble for both of us.”
Wincing in horror, Peyton listened to Mackenzie’s final moments.
“I’m sorry it had to…come to this. We had fun, but…looks like I’m…going to have to…kill your big…story.”
The sound of the muffled gunshot echoed through the kitchen.
Santino reached over and shut off the recording. He looked around at the detectives, his face hard.
“Whoever this Diablo is, he killed Mackenzie Jensen, and he most likely has abducted Veronica Lee.”
Meeting Peyton’s eyes, Santino voiced what she’d been thinking.
“And if he really has hooked up with Donovan Locke, we'll probably have more victims on our hands before all this is over."
Chapter Thirty-Five
Nessa greeted Cole and Cooper’s whoops and shouts with her usual smile, trying hard not to show how much Peyton’s call had shaken her as she hugged the boys and followed them into the kitchen. Jerry looked around from the stove wearing an apron and a smile. The smile faded as he saw Nessa’s ashen face.
“Go wash up and brush your teeth,” he called out to the boys, shooing them out of the room before turning concerned eyes on Nessa. “You missed dinner, but I saved you a plate.”
“I just got a call that means I need to head back to the station,” she said, deciding not to mention she would also be going out to the scene of a new homicide. “We got a mess going on if you haven’t figured that out.”
Taking her purse off her shoulder, Jerry tugged her toward the table and pulled out a chair.
“I’m not letting you leave unless you eat dinner first,” he said, picking up a plate off the stove. “Voila! Jerry’s famous spaghetti.”
The garlic aroma of the sauce was overwhelming, but Nessa only smiled and picked up her fork. If she didn’t at least try to eat something before she headed out, Jerry would worry, and at this point she was ready to admit to herself that he might have a point.
As soon as things slow down at work, I need to make a doctor’s appointment. It’s been ages since I went in and had a check-up.
Twenty minutes later Nessa was back in her Charger heading toward Hawthorne Road. She’d insisted that Peyton play her the recording from the Mackenzie Jensen scene, and she couldn’t get the man’s muffled voice out of her head.
I know that voice from somewhere. Who is it?
She also couldn’t get over Mackenzie’s statement that the man called Diablo, the man they’d all been looking for, was someone well known in their town.
Hopefully, Alma will find fingerprints or some kind of evidence at Mackenzie’s house to point us in the right direction.
Travelling south on Channel Drive, Nessa prepared to turn onto Hawthorne Road just as her phone vibrated on the dashboard.
Mayor Hadley’s picture popped up on the display. She hesitated, tempted to let the call roll to voicemail, then reluctantly tapped to answer the call. Rustling noises sounded through the hands-free speaker, and then Mayor Hadley’s voice was in the car with her.
“Chi
ef Ainsley? Where are you?”
“I’m just pulling up to a scene,” she replied, bringing the Charger to a stop alongside the curb in front of Mackenzie Jensen’s house. “We’ve got another homicide if you can believe it.”
Expecting the Mayor to ask for details about the new homicide, or maybe demand an update on the Old Willow Square homicide, Nessa wasn’t prepared for his next statement.
“Tenley Frost is missing.”
His voice was unusually subdued, and Nessa frowned as she turned off the engine and picked up her phone.
“What do you mean by missing?”
“Nora Fletcher called our office a few minutes ago. She’s Tenley’s sitter, and she’s saying Tenley never showed up to get her daughter.”
Nessa frowned at the phone.
“Could she just be running late? Maybe her car broke down?”
“That’s not possible,” Mayor Hadley replied testily. “Tenley's car is in Mrs. Fletcher’s driveway, and her purse and phone are inside, but Tenley isn’t.”
Refusing to believe Tenley could really be missing, Nessa tried to think of plausible explanations, but none came to her.
“Chief Ainsley? Are you still there?”
“I’m here, Mayor,” Nessa murmured, staring out at the flashing lights and crime scene van visible through her windshield. “And I’ll get right on it. In fact, I’ll take care of this one myself.”
✽ ✽ ✽
Nora Fletcher opened the front door as Nessa stepped onto the porch. The older woman held Avery Lynn on her ample hip, and the small girl peered at Nessa through sleepy blue eyes.
“Thanks for coming so quickly, Chief Ainsley,” Nora said, ushering Nessa into a cozy sitting room. “I hated to bother the Mayor, but when I saw Tenley’s car, I didn’t know what else to do.”
The older woman sank onto a chair and Nessa sat next to her.
“First of all, please call me Nessa,” she said, taking a small notepad from the pocket of her jacket. “And now, tell me what happened. When did you see that Tenley’s car had been left here?”
“Tenley’s rarely late,” Nora said, brushing back a strand of silvery hair that had escaped her bun. “So, I was surprised when she didn’t show up by eight. I thought maybe with everything going on…”
A guarded look fell over Nora’s face, and she looked away.
“Anyway, I went outside to put the trashcans by the curb, and I saw her car there. I was shocked to see it was empty.”
“What did you do then?”
Nora shrugged and sighed.
“Well, I saw that the doors were unlocked, and I could see her purse sitting right there on the passenger’s seat. I was worried someone might take it, so I brought it inside and waited.”
Glancing up at Nessa with a look of remorse, Nora shook her head.
“I shouldn’t have waited, I guess,” she stammered. “But I was confused. I thought maybe she’d come back. That maybe she’d gone for a walk around the block, or…something.”
Avery Lynn began to struggle in Nora’s arms, and the sitter moved the baby girl to her other leg, bouncing her gently up and down.
“I tried to call her phone, but I could hear it ringing in her purse,” Nora explained. “That’s when I decided to call the mayor’s office and see if she was there. They said she’d left hours before, and that she’d been in a hurry to get her daughter.”
Hugging Avery Lynn against her chest, Nora looked up at Nessa.
“Something terrible has happened, hasn’t it?”
“Let’s not jump to any conclusions,” Nessa said, trying not to reveal her growing concern. “But tell me, do have any idea where Tenley could be? Did she tell you anything that would make you suspect someone might want to harm her?”
Nora’s eyes widened, and she shook her head, then hesitated.
"Well, I hate to say anything. I promised Tenley I wouldn’t…”
“Anything you say will be kept confidential,” Nessa assured her. “And if you know something that could help her, I’m sure Tenley would want you to tell me.”
Looking down at Avery Lynn, as if the little girl might be able to understand what she was saying, Nora lowered her voice.
“Tenley was seeing a married man,” she said, dropping her eyes in embarrassment. “She wanted to break it off, but she said there aren’t many eligible men in Willow Bay…”
Her voice faded away as Nessa made a note on her pad.
“Okay, so who is this married man?” she asked. “Could Tenley possibly be with him now?”
A look of hope entered Nora’s eyes, but she still hesitated.
“I promise to be as discreet as possible,” Nessa said, starting to get impatient. “But I need to know who this man is so that I can make sure Tenley’s not with him.”
After another pause, Nora nodded.
“She’s been seeing Garth Bixby,” she whispered. “He’s Mayor Hadley’s campaign manager.”
“Yes, I know who Mr. Bixby is.”
Thinking of Tenley stepping out of the black SUV that morning, Nessa wasn’t surprised as she wrote Bixby’s name on her pad.
“Thank you, Mrs. Fletcher,” Nessa said as she stood up.
“Oh, please call me Nora.”
The older woman stood, positioning Avery Lynn on her hip again.
“What are you going to do now?”
“First, I’m going to make a few calls,” Nessa said. “I’ll see if I can track down Garth Bixby. And I’ll have a look at Tenley’s car. If that doesn’t turn up anything…well, we’ll go from there.”
Nessa made her way back to the front door, but before she could step out onto the porch, Nora put a hand on her arm.
“What about little Avery Lynn?” the older woman said, her voice strained. “Should I put her down to sleep here?”
Smiling at the sleeping baby in Nora’s arms, Nessa nodded.
“Looks like she beat you to it,” she said, reaching out a gentle finger to stroke the little girl’s cheek. “She’s already gone.”
The rain had started up again, and Nessa pulled the hood of her jacket up and over her head as she walked to Tenley’s Lexus.
She took out her phone and tapped on the flashlight icon, shining the stream of light on the car and studying the driver’s side door. She was just about to reach out and open it when she saw the footprints in the mud beneath the door.
Two small footprints were visible around a shallow puddle of rainwater. A flurry of bigger, deeper boot prints surrounded the smaller prints. Nessa moved the beam of the flashlight along a series of footprints and drag marks on the ground.
Following the marks out to the road, Nessa stared down at the tire tracks leading away from the house. She drew in a deep breath, and then ran to her Charger. Slipping behind the wheel, she tapped on Vanzinger’s name in her contact list.
The detective answered on the second ring.
“Tenley Frost is missing, and it looks like she may have been abducted,” Nessa said before Vanzinger could speak. “I’m wondering if the man who killed Mackenzie and took Veronica could have come after Tenley, too.”
Vanzinger didn’t seem to be surprised by her words. Perhaps it was becoming clear to them all that they had a madman lose in Willow Bay, and that more victims were to be expected.
“What time did she go missing?” he asked, his voice brisk. “And from where?”
“About eight o’clock according to the sitter. On the upper east side of town. A little subdivision near the corner of Elm and Surrey.”
It took only seconds for Vanzinger to do the calculations.
“Then it’s unlikely the man who killed Mackenzie could have abducted Tenley, as well. The two events happened about the same time, and across town from each other.”
Nessa tried to think. They knew from the recording that the man calling himself Diablo had killed Mackenzie, and that he was most likely working with Donovan Locke. Could Ling Lee’s crazy ex-husband have taken Tenley Frost?
“The sitter said Tenley’s been seeing Garth Bixby,” Nessa said. “I was planning to check in with him, to see if Tenley could be with him but now I’m-”
“Hold on, Chief,” Vanzinger said, sounding excited. “Mackenzie Jensen was also sleeping with Garth Bixby. At least that’s what your old partner Pete Barker told us.”
Nessa shook her head, staring out at the rain as she tried to put the pieces together in her mind.
“You talked to Barker about the case?”
“He and Frankie Dawson were at the scene when we arrived. They’d been tailing Bixby. Some kind of surveillance gig. They said Bixby and Mackenzie had been sleeping together for weeks.”
Shaking her head in disbelief, Nessa looked again at the blurry name she’d written.
“Garth Bixby’s been fooling around with Mackenzie Jensen and Tenley Frost,” she said slowly, not sure if she was talking to Vanzinger or herself. “One woman’s dead, and the other is missing.”
“Yep, that’s what it looks like,” Vanzinger agreed, his voice vibrating over the connection.
“Right,” Nessa said. “I think it’s time to find Mr. Bixby."
Chapter Thirty-Six
Diablo turned the big black SUV onto the narrow, unpaved road, bumping past the overhanging trees that blocked the view of the place he now thought of as his base camp. He stopped outside the big gate, waiting for it to swing open, then drove through, happy to see the truck for the evening’s shipment was already being loaded.
Men stomped back and forth over the muddy terrain, lugging boxes out from one of the long buildings hidden behind the thick walls and the barbed wire. A stocky man with a rifle slung over one massive shoulder waved at Diablo, then turned back to guard duty.
It was almost noon, and the sun was high in the cloudless sky, but the cold front was expected to last another few days, and most of the men wore hoodies or lightweight jackets as they worked. Diablo stepped out of the SUV and adjusted his expensive leather jacket.
Hoping his shoes wouldn’t be ruined by the mud left behind after last night’s rain, he curse the State of Florida for not paving the road and courtyard of the old facility.
Her Winter of Darkness Page 21