Rayna looked to Hank, who’d been overseeing the search of the area. “Not so far,” he said, looking chagrined. Hank liked to make the chief happy.
“Well keep at it.” Stoval rubbed his cheek and addressed Rayna. “I assume you’ve been in touch with someone from the DA’s office?”
“McKenna’s got the case.” Rayna had been relieved to know that the prosecutor was someone other than Paul Nesbitt. With one girl still missing and the other dead, Rayna’s emotions were already tangled and close to the surface. Throwing an occasional lover into the mix might have been more than she could handle.
“Good. At least we’ve got someone with solid credentials.”
“He’s not sure there’s enough evidence to convict,” Rayna said. “Now that we have a possible suspect to focus on, though, the other pieces might come together.” It was always easier to connect a victim with a known suspect than to pull a suspect out of the realm of infinite possibilities. With luck they’d find what they needed to fill in the gaps and build a strong enough link to satisfy the DA.
“Forensics is taking a second look at the backpack and contents of the Dumpster,” Hank said, “and we’ve got officers following up with witnesses at the mall. We want to know if anyone remembers seeing Adam there within our time frame.”
“Still no word on his whereabouts?” Stoval steepled his fingers and tapped his mouth.
“Not yet,” Hank replied, “but we’ve got an APB out on the car. We’ll find him.”
Adam was AWOL, missing for two days. He’d left his father’s house Friday night, allegedly heading for his mom’s, and no one had seen him since. Cody offered the theory that his mother was hiding him but Rayna didn’t buy it. Mimi’s distress over her missing son seemed genuine. Best bet was that she and Cody had spooked the boy by questioning him. In retrospect, she wished she’d handled it differently.
“From where I sit,” the chief said, “flight is a strong indicator of guilt. I can’t understand why McKenna doesn’t think we have enough to arrest the kid. They can plug the holes between now and trial.” Stoval slapped his palms on his desk. “Maybe it’s time I put in a personal call to Ray McKenna.”
As the district attorney for Jackson County, McKenna wasn’t likely to welcome a phone call unless it offered personal or professional benefit to himself. More to the point, Chief Stoval had forgotten his remark only moments earlier about playing by the book.
“I’d hold off on that,” Cody said, speaking up for the first time. “I understand you want results. But there are advantages to building a case before the lawyers get involved.”
The chief regarded Cody from under hooded eyes. “The DA is on the same side we are.”
“But he knows he’s got to make his case in court. No disrespect, sir, but I come down with the DA on this. First off, we don’t know that Adam has fled. He could be a victim himself. I gather his parents are frantic. Or he could be scared silly. Even if he did have a thing for Caitlin, that doesn’t mean he had anything to do with her disappearance.”
Stoval scoffed. “He was sneaking photos of her in the shower for Christ’s sake. Her necklace was hidden in the basement of his mother’s house. He doesn’t come across as a Boy Scout.”
“I was a teenage boy once. I suffered a lot of angst, not to mention an abundance of raging hormones. To tell the truth, I don’t find anything in Adam’s behavior that’s outrageous enough to suggest he killed her.”
Rayna looked at Cody, who shot her a half smile. She’d be willing to bet his escapades would make for interesting listening, not that he’d ever share them with her. But none of those girls had turned up missing or dead.
Stoval didn’t appear amused, or persuaded. “He sure as hell looks guilty to me. And the sooner we get this wrapped up, the better for the town.”
And for Stoval’s reputation, Rayna added silently. The chief had to be feeling pressure from the mayor as well as the public. Not an enviable position for a man who had political aspirations.
Rayna’s cell rang. She checked the number. “Forensics. I better take this,” she said, and stepped away into a corner.
“Detective Godwin here.”
“This is Al James. I’ve got something you might like.”
Conversation in Stoval’s office stopped while the others listened in.
“We took another look at the debris in the Dumpster where we found the backpack,” James continued. “There were some paper towels. The same kind I saw in the kid’s mom’s house when we searched it yesterday.”
Connecting the dots required a bit more than the same brand of paper towels, Rayna thought. “Anything that positively IDs the towels as coming from that household?”
“No, but these aren’t your standard paper towels. They’ve got Garfield printed on them. You know, the cartoon cat? I’ve never seen anything like them in the stores.”
Neither had Rayna, not that she’d looked. But they were the sort of specialty item a dentist whose practice included children might use. “Check with medical supply companies, see if they carry towels like that.”
“I already did. And they do. We’re running tests on the towels. There are some stains that might be blood.”
Rayna felt the punch of adrenaline. “Thanks. Keep me posted.” When she hung up, she relayed the information to the three men who’d watched her expectantly.
“I knew we were on the right track.” Stoval slapped his desk again, this time with glee. “Now we need to find Adam.”
~~~~
It was stupid to have run, Adam realized. He hadn’t planned to, but when he’d arrived at his mom’s and seen the cop cars in front, he’d acted without thinking. He’d kept right on driving, past the house and out of town, stopping finally at a secluded forest campground, deserted this time of year.
And now he didn’t know what to do. He was tired, hungry, and most of all scared.
His dad said he believed him, but Grace didn’t. She’d accused him of hurting Caitlin. When push came to shove, he didn’t know which side his dad would take. And who knew what his mom would think? One thing he knew for certain, she’d be pissed. He could hear her now, going on about how he’d upset her life and humiliated her in public. How many parents would feel comfortable sending their kids to a dentist whose son was a murder suspect?
But showing up at school wasn’t an option, either. He had visions of the cops hauling him off in handcuffs and all the kids laughing. He’d watched enough TV to know it looked better to go to them than to have them come after you. And, depending on what they’d found when they searched his mom’s house, he might be able to explain. He had to remember to keep it simple and not get tripped up.
After spending a couple of cramped, cold nights sleeping in the front seat of the car, more running wasn’t really an option, even if he’d wanted to. Not without money.
Time to take action!
He checked the dashboard clock. Ten o’clock on a Monday meant his mom would be with patients, his dad in class. Assuming they’d gone to work. His mom probably had. She was a big believer in routine, and canceling her day’s schedule would only highlight the mess her son was in. He wasn’t sure about his dad. They’d both left messages on his cell, but neither of them had said more than “call me.”
He sent Lucy a text message: “What’s the score?”
“Whre r u?”
“scrwed. M/D wk or hme?”
“Dad hm. Mom dnt kn.”
It was his dad, then, by default. But the cops might have the house under surveillance, so he called his dad. They might have tapped the phone, but he’d have to risk it.
His dad picked up on the second ring. “Adam? Is that you?”
Good old caller ID. “It’s me.”
“Are you okay? Are you safe?” Adam could hear relief and worry in his dad’s voice.
“Yeah, I’m fine. For now. The cops were at Mom’s Friday night, so I just kept going.”
“You had us so worried. You should have calle
d, you should have—”
“Dad!” The last thing Adam needed was a lecture.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. I’m glad to know you’re okay.”
Okay was a relative thing. He was alive, but far from okay. “What did the cops want at Mom’s?”
“They had a search warrant. I don’t know what they found.”
The comment was open-ended, waiting for Adam to fill him in. Adam didn’t.
“They’re looking for you,” his dad finally said.
“I figured as much.”
“Let me help you, Adam. I’ll find an attorney. We’ll work this through. Come home.”
“Are the police at the house?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I could come pick you up.”
Adam caught the blur of movement in the rearview mirror. A car slowly cruising the campground’s spur roads. “Oh, shit.”
“What’s the matter?”
A patrol car pulled up behind him. “Cancel that, Dad, they’re here.”
“The police? Let me talk to them.”
Adam could see two cops approach, guns drawn. “I don’t think it works like that, Dad.”
“I love you son. I’ll—”
Adam shut off the phone and turned to meet the cops with his hands in the air.
Chapter 27
Grace pulled the wide-brimmed rain hat down low on her forehead and kept her gaze on the ground until she was well past the man with the golden retriever. Although she didn’t really know him, he was a familiar face from her regular walks around the neighborhood. Usually they’d nod or exchange a few words about the weather or the dog. This morning she wanted to be left alone. It was why she’d worn the hat, even though it wasn’t raining, and why she kept her chin tucked into the plaid woolen scarf tied around her neck.
The fresh air and exercise were helping clear her head, but nothing could ameliorate the misery that howled and gnawed inside her. What had she done?
Adam had run off. Carl was beyond livid. Her marriage appeared to be in shreds. And none of it had brought Caitlin home. She had destroyed so much of what she held dear, and to what end? She brushed the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. She’d lost Caitlin, and now she’d lost Carl, too.
He’d been cold and distant all weekend, avoiding her except for intermittent bursts of raging anger. He’d moved out of their bedroom, taken to showering and brushing his teeth when she wasn’t anywhere near the bathroom, and seemed to make a point of leaving a room the moment she entered.
First it had been the police, then the search warrant and Mimi’s hysterics, and finally Adam, who hadn’t been seen or heard from since leaving their house Friday night. And Grace was at the root of it all.
Except she really wasn’t, Grace protested silently. She kicked a loose stone on the sidewalk and sent it sailing into the street. Adam was the root of it.
Grace’s phone rang. She checked the readout and was surprised to see Lucy’s number.
“Hi, Grace. I hope it’s okay to call. Am I disturbing you?”
“Not at all.” At least there was still one member of the family who was speaking to her.
“Has anyone heard from Adam?” Lucy asked.
“Not that I’m aware of, but then I’m probably the last person who would know.”
“Yeah, I guess so. It’s your fault Adam’s in trouble.”
It crossed Grace’s mind that Lucy might have called simply to give her a hard time. Being on speaking terms could be a mixed blessing. “What is it you want, Lucy?”
“I wouldn’t have called you except that I can’t reach my dad or my mom.”
“What do you need?”
A moment’s hesitation. “Adam sent me a text message.”
Grace reacted with a jolt. “When?”
“The middle of English class, about half an hour ago. I’ve been calling my dad ever since class ended, but he’s not picking up.”
“Is Adam okay?”
“I don’t know. He sounded okay, but he didn’t say much. And he doesn’t answer when I call him.” Lucy sounded agitated. “Where’s my dad?”
“He was at home when I left for my walk.”
A sigh. “I hate asking, but could you come get me at school?”
“Now? The day’s not over.”
“I can’t stay here,” Lucy wailed. “It’s totally awful. The kids know the cops are looking for Adam. One of the boys in my mom’s neighborhood saw the cops at the house. It’s all they’re talking about. And I’m worried about Adam. Please, Grace.”
Lucy’s distress tugged at Grace’s frayed emotions. “Sure. I can be there in about twenty minutes.”
“I’ll wait for you at the oval.”
The same spot where Caitlin was last seen.
~~~~
Grace’s stomach twisted into a knot as she pulled into the drive-thru at the front of the school. Her pulse raced and her hands felt clammy. How many times over the past several years had she driven here to pick up Caitlin? It was one of those familiar rituals, unremarkable in passing, that now felt as if it was carved into her consciousness in bold relief.
Lucy opened the door before Grace had brought the car to a full stop. She flung herself inside, dropping her backpack to the floor and slouching low on the seat. “Let’s get out of here.”
The histrionics caught Grace by surprise. Lucy was not, generally speaking, a drama queen.
She glared at Grace for a second before turning her face forward and crossing her arms. “Where’s my dad?”
“I don’t know.” When she’d returned to the house from her walk, Carl’s car was gone and there was no note. “Why don’t you try calling him again?”
“I did, just before you got here.” Lucy’s tone was curt. “Maybe Adam reached him,” she said finally, and more softly. “I hope he’s all right.”
“I do, too.”
“No you don’t.” Lucy cried, quietly wiping away the tears with the back of her hand. “Everything’s a mess and it’s all your fault. I’m trying hard not to hate you.”
“That’s charitable of you,” Grace replied with only a hint of sarcasm.
Grace expected belligerence, but instead, Lucy appeared chastised. “Thank you.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about what I said, it’s just all so confusing and upsetting.”
Grace pulled the car to the side of the road and set the brake. She turned to Lucy. “You need to understand why I did what I did. I’m not out to ‘get’ Adam. But I do need to learn the truth about what happened to Caitlin.”
“By accusing Adam?” It was an indictment more than a question.
“Some of his behaviors are, frankly, suspicious.”
“Like what?”
Partial knowledge was a dangerous thing, Grace thought. But she didn’t feel comfortable sharing everything she’d learned with Lucy. “He seemed kind of fixated on her.”
“That doesn’t mean he killed her!”
Grace’s breath caught. “You’re assuming she’s dead.”
“She is, and you know it. After they found Karen’s body, you can’t have any doubt.”
“I can hope.”
“Oh, God.” Lucy wiped her nose on her sleeve. “I wanted to be like Caitlin. I envied her so much. She was”—Lucy shot a quick glance at Grace—“is so pretty and confident and smart. Perfect, and I’m none of those things.”
“Caitlin’s not perfect,” Grace said, although she found Lucy’s description of her daughter accurate. “And you’re you. You’ve got your own strengths and admirable qualities.”
“Please, I’m not stupid. You’re just saying that to make me feel better. Caitlin was . . . is so lucky. She has everything. Looks, good grades, a boyfriend, a good life. She has a home.”
“You have a home, Lucy. You have two of them.”
“That’s what I mean. Two houses but neither one really feels like home.”
Grace leaned over the gear console and gave Lucy an awkward hug. “
We’ll have to work on that. As for the rest of it, you’re pretty too. Good grades come with hard work, and the boyfriend will come with time.”
Lucy shut her eyes. Grace could see tears under her lashes.
“You’re so nice to me sometimes,” Lucy said, looking at Grace again. “I wish . . . I just feel . . .” She took a deep breath. “Everything that’s happened, it’s awful.” She flung herself into Grace’s arms.
“Yes,” Grace said, smoothing the back of Lucy’s head with her hand. “It is. Just awful.”
Everything was awful, and as far as Grace could see, there was no end of awful in sight.
~~~~
Adam huddled in the caged backseat of the police car, his hands cuffed behind his back. He was more frightened than he’d ever been in his life. The thick-necked officer in the front passenger seat had grinned as he put the handcuffs on, jerking the sharp metal so that it dug into Adam’s wrist. The spot still hurt. And he’d given a shove as Adam was getting into the car, sending him headlong toward the far side door. His shoulder throbbed where it had cracked against the frame.
Not real brutality, but the rough treatment left him badly shaken. He was used to being the butt of mean-spirited pranks from some of the kids at school, but finding himself at the mercy of grim-faced men in uniform was something far worse.
The silence inside the car was broken only by the crackle of the police radio and brief staccato interludes of conversation between the two officers. Early on, Adam had tried asking for an explanation. He’d been told in so many very curt words to shut up. And so he had.
How had this happened? Never in a million years could Adam have imagined himself in such a situation. Even the familiar countryside outside the window felt foreign and unfriendly.
When they approached the police station, they pulled up alongside an unmarked door at the rear. Adam was hauled from the car, through a narrow hallway, and into a small room with a table and three molded-plastic chairs. The thick-necked officer pushed him down onto one of the chairs.
“Detectives will be with you shortly,” he said.
When the door opened again, it was another uniformed officer. An older man with a mustache who told Adam he was there to photograph and fingerprint him. The man uncuffed one hand at a time, leaving the other end chained to the chair, while he pressed Adam’s fingers, one by one, against a small computerized device.
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