Anniston leveled a sharp gaze on Garret. “A thorough investigation could take months. This is a marathon, not a sprint. A sprint gets you sloppy mistakes. I’m looking down the road at what will hold up in a court of law, not careless supposition.” She let out a sigh. “I’m gathering evidence, which I will follow wherever it takes me. Then when I’ve got a clear picture as to what happened, I’ll take it to the proper authorities.”
“The proper authorities shouldn’t include Sinclair,” Tessa threw out. “Whatever Buchanan is working on with this Dietrich person, Sinclair is part of it.”
“More like half the town,” Jackson groaned.
“That’s just it,” Anniston began. “We know the ones we shouldn’t trust. It’s more than we knew yesterday. In fact, anyone outside this room should be considered a risk. That’s why what we say here, stays here.”
Mitch had to raise his voice over the disgruntled din beginning to grow even louder. “And that’s why you should let us in on the routine inquiries because this thing’s branched out. Now we have to figure out the underlying reason Frawley, Dandridge, and Oakerson went out of their way to derail the search. Why would Royce be a part of something like that?”
“Because he’s a heartless old bastard,” Tanner added. “You have no idea what kind of monster you’re really dealing with in Royce Buchanan. Everybody knows that man’s always been slicker than owl shit.”
That accusation only drove the room into their battle positions, each one offering to do what they could to move the investigation along.
After listening to the appeals that came at her in a fevered pitch, Anniston said, “Fair enough, I’m not used to having partners other than my dad and brother. I’ll tell you what, I’ll keep at the five who are missing, which is what you guys hired me to do, while you guys dig into the meeting between Mr. Buchanan and his cronies.” She shuffled some papers around in her briefcase. “If we all agree to that, then is it okay to move on?”
“There’s more?” Garret asked.
A snide expression crossed Anniston’s face. “There’s a lot more. I didn’t just call this meeting to talk about vehicle registrations. First, I received notice from Dack Hawkins that he released the house. He feels nothing of evidentiary value is there.”
Jackson crossed his arms over his chest. “So that means Hawkins thinks no crime’s been committed and we’re back to square one.”
“Basically. Hawkins determined whatever happened didn’t happen inside the house. But here’s the good news for our side. Y’all are cleared to go back there and take a look around, get a second look for yourselves, maybe even a third. Releasing the house also indicates to me that the state is officially moving toward the conclusion that the family left voluntarily.”
Lenore put her hand over her mouth. “That isn’t really a solution, is it? Two days ago I might’ve believed that without a problem. But now…”
“Not without more proof,” Tanner concluded.
Anniston agreed. “I believe it won’t be long—possibly by the end of the week—before Hawkins makes a formal announcement that there’s no longer an open investigation.”
“How’s that good news?” Mitch asked.
Garret spoke up. “I think I know where she’s headed with this. Without an open case, Hawkins is free to share what he knows. Am I right?”
“Bingo. Give yourself a gold star,” Anniston said. “Not only that but once the case is no longer active it paves the way to finding out all the other information that Hawkins obtained over the last week, bank statements, cell phone records, any other legal documents like wills and deeds.”
Lenore rubbed her aching forehead. “But what good are cell phone records in the grand scheme of things? My daughter didn’t have the time to send me a text message or call me before she vanished. So how will looking at that help?”
Anniston didn’t hesitate. “To tell you the truth, I prefer having someone’s cell phone records any day over DNA. Give me phone records and mobile GPS tracking evidence and the cell phone towers and I’ll have a perfect roadmap to that person’s every movement.”
Garret sat up straighter. “You’re kidding? I thought these days every crime is solved with DNA.”
A derisive tone shot out of Anniston’s throat. “Get real. You’ve been watching too many crime shows. In most cases police rarely have the luxury of working with DNA. They build their circumstantial cases by putting together the movements of victim and suspect and then matching them up to a point of connecting the dots. A timeline that links a victim to a suspect is stronger in court and virtually irrefutable. Unless a defendant’s phone was stolen, how is he able to explain away his cell phone’s location near the victim’s house?”
Tessa thought of how difficult it had been to get into Ryan’s online carrier. “Like I told Jackson before, that’s all well and good for Livvy and Walker, but no one’s bothered with finding out Ryan’s information, let alone his movements.”
Sympathy rushed through Anniston. “You’re right. But that all changed today. My father called one of his buddies in Miami homicide for a favor. The guy got a judge to write out a court order for Ryan’s phone records. I spent hours capturing a snapshot of Ryan’s visit here.”
Tessa’s mouth dropped open. “And?”
For the first time that evening, Anniston’s lips curved. “I’m connecting dots all over the place. Give me another day and I should have a complete picture for you. I may not even need to go in search of surveillance video.”
“Really? That’s fantastic.” Tessa traded glances with Raine. “I suppose one good turn deserves another.”
It was Raine who tossed a nod toward Anniston. “You tell her.”
“Gee thanks,” Tessa muttered, gripping the arm of the chair and sending Jackson an apologetic look. She thought it best to give them the bad news like ripping off a Band-Aid with one yank. “Okay, here’s the deal. Raine and I spent the afternoon walking the streets of Key West looking for a stripper named Harlow who supposedly was the woman Walker was having an affair with recently.”
The room grew deadly quiet.
Tessa reached across the table and laid a hand on top of Lenore’s. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to hurt you with this kind of info.”
Mitch turned an accusing glare toward Raine. “So you’ve known this for how long and didn’t think to say anything?”
Raine got to her feet, slapped her hands on her hips in defiance. “We don’t exactly talk these days, remember?”
“And whose fault is that?” Mitch shouted as he stood up to face her. “And what the hell was that we did yesterday at lunch, you know, when my dad and brother came into your restaurant? You might’ve mentioned it then.”
Raine bellowed right back as she grabbed her purse. “I knew coming here tonight was a big mistake. You’re still the same inconsiderate jerk you were in high school.”
“I was eighteen back then. When are you ever going to let that go?”
“Honestly? Probably never.”
Lenore shouted for calm.
But it was Anniston who had to step between Raine and Mitch and push them back from each other. “Now kids, let’s head to neutral corners. Try to remember this meeting is for one purpose—for us to get on the same page and stay there. This is a major lead that needs checking out before we jump to conclusions.”
After Raine took her seat, Anniston turned to Tessa. “So yesterday when I asked everyone about affairs you purposely held back?”
Tessa ignored the remorse she felt. “I alluded to the mysterious stripper because I didn’t want to upset anyone. And I felt I owed Raine an allegiance, a loyalty of sorts, for taking me into her confidence.”
Raine beamed. “Right back atcha.”
“Why don’t you ladies pinky swear, get on with it, and then we’re all set to move forward,” Mitch said sarcastically.
Before Raine could explode in his direction again, Tessa intervened. “That tone is so unnecessary. Raine and I t
hought we could locate this Harlow woman and bring the info back to Anniston, do our own legwork, additional fieldwork on our own. But we didn’t find anyone who had ever heard of her. Maybe she doesn’t even exist.”
“That they owned up to,” Raine pointed out. “Maybe we just didn’t find a person willing to talk to total strangers they likely don’t trust.”
Anniston chewed on that as she began to pack up her things. “It gives me a name to check out, though.”
Jackson had heard enough. He tapped Tessa on the shoulder, nodded for her to follow him into the kitchen.
“What’s up?” Tessa asked.
“Is there any way we could get out of here?”
“And go where?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere people aren’t yelling and getting in each other’s faces. I want to spend some time alone with you.”
“Sure. But what about finishing the meeting?”
“I have a better idea.” Jackson tugged her through the back door, slipping away to his dad’s truck.
“Where are we going?”
“First stop is Livvy’s house.” He dangled his mother’s spare key in front of her. “It’s no longer considered a crime scene, remember? I want to see for myself what’s what. After that, we’ll find a nice, quiet, peaceful spot to loll away the rest of the night.”
It took less than ten minutes to reach the corner house at the intersection of Blue Fin and Windward. Draped in shadows, the cute West Indies style house looked forlorn in the dark. Jackson noted the crime tape had been removed.
He pushed open the front door, flipped on the lights. Slate tile floors in baby-blue teal greeted them as if they’d taken a trip to Nassau. An entryway led them into a stylish family room decorated with plantation furniture that utilized all the natural elements, teak, rattan, and woven cane. Livvy’s ebony and beige color choices along with a splash of aqua accessories ran classy, like a stay at the Hilton.
Nautical trappings—a huge aquarium that took up a chunk of the middle wall and a two-foot-long replica of Walker’s yacht sitting on top of the fireplace mantel—were gentle reminders this was coastal living. Gauzy draperies from floor to ceiling on the massive windows were made to take advantage of the tropical breezes and filter the sunlight.
The only sounds in the room were a ceiling fan overhead that still turned in a slow rotation with just a hint of a whirling click and the low hum of the water pump on the fish tank.
Taking it all in, Tessa marveled at the size of the two huge banana trees, one in the living room, one in the dining room, and all the blooming birds of paradise growing to heights she’d only dreamed about. Livvy had used the plants to accessorize the beach theme. “Your sister had a flair for decorating. She must’ve had a green thumb.”
“She and my grandmother. A couple of years back this house appeared in Southern Living magazine. You’ll want to take a look at the patio. It’s like another room addition to the house. Plus, there must be another three dozen kinds of plants sitting out there.”
“Jackson, do you notice anything odd? There’s damp soil around the plants like they’ve been watered recently. The fish are still alive. Someone’s been feeding them and taking care of the little things.”
“Hmm, maybe Mom’s been sneaking in here when she wasn’t supposed to.”
Tessa turned in a circle to scan the house. “Interesting. The downstairs looks perfect, nothing out of order anywhere, not a magazine out of place, not a stick of furniture upside down. Did the cops even dust for fingerprints? Don’t they usually leave behind telltale signs of that inky stuff?”
“The place looks like it could still grace the cover of a periodical. Too clean for the cops to have done much. I thought they were in here turning the place inside out. Let’s take a look at the kitchen and then make our way upstairs.”
In the kitchen, there was signs Livvy had fixed dinner. Little drops of spaghetti sauce still stuck to the range top. But there were no dirty dishes left in the sink as though she’d fixed pasta that night and then cleaned up the mess.
Tessa opened the dishwasher to find it full of spotless dishes. The counters had been wiped clean. Even the floor gleamed like it had been recently mopped.
“I don’t have to tell you this is eerie,” Tessa said. “It looks like one of those open houses. I keep expecting a realtor to appear with a sales pitch. Does it always look like this?”
Jackson’s forehead wrinkled into a frown. “Walker could be a stickler for a tidy house.”
“But there are no signs of two small children living here.”
“You’re right. No wonder Dack Hawkins released it. The place looks like a damn model home.”
“What was it Anniston said earlier about Hawkins? That whatever happened, didn’t happen here. I’m beginning to think Hawkins is right.”
“I’ll reserve judgment until I’ve seen the upstairs.” They took the staircase to a small landing that Livvy had fixed up as a play area. Here there were toys scattered around the little space. Legos on one side, dolls on the other, as if brother and sister had split the room in half.
Jackson opened the door to Blake’s room and spotted the unmade bed. “Ah, here we go, lived in.” His eyes scanned the typical boy’s bedroom. In between the sheets he found two action figures—an Incredible Hulk along with Captain America—Blake had left behind. A pile of clothes including an Avengers T-shirt and a pair of jeans had been tossed on the floor. He opened the closet door, found most of Blake’s clothes still on hangers.
He went across the hall to Ally’s room and found her bed had been slept in. Her pink Barbie comforter had been tossed back as if the little girl had just crawled out from under the warmth of it not five minutes earlier.
Like Blake, Ally had left behind some of her most prized possessions—an assortment of her favorite dolls and her precious Dreamy Eyes Palomino, a gift for her sixth birthday last August. He ought to know, it had been his gift to her to satisfy her growing desire for a real horse. Glancing around the room, the panic and fear that lodged in his throat were as fierce and fresh as that first day he’d taken his mother’s phone call.
With heavy feet, Jackson moved down to the master bedroom. Once again, he found a messy bed with covers tossed back as if maybe the pair who’d been sleeping comfortably there had exited the coziness in a sudden call to action. He went to the closet and saw for himself what his mother had already reported.
“Look at this, Livvy left behind her clothes, clothes for the kids. So did Walker. What did they all do, hop on a plane without taking any personal items with them or any of their belongings? What would make them leave like this in the middle of the night?” Jackson asked, truly puzzled.
“Maybe they got an emergency phone call about something. Maybe they had to go check something at the store and didn’t want to leave the kids.”
“Both of them? Why wouldn’t Walker have handled that?”
Tessa touched Jackson’s arm. “No idea. I’m guessing here, same as you.”
About that time a noise from downstairs had them moving out into the hallway, ready to go on the offensive. Holding hands, they did a double time down the wide front staircase only to run into the entire gang they’d left back at the house.
Lenore gasped. “I knew I heard footsteps overhead. You scared me half to death. So this is where you two went. We wondered when you suddenly up and left.”
Jackson went over to his mother. “By any chance have you been coming here when you knew it was off limits?”
All eyes stared at Lenore.
“Lying in bed Sunday night I remembered the plants and the fish. I walked over here and snuck in the back door. I was afraid the fish might die and all the plants would wilt and I wouldn’t be able to bring them back if that happened. Livvy put too much work into them to let them die.”
Jackson wrapped an arm around her. “It must’ve taken you two hours to get to every plant in here.”
“I didn’t mind. I couldn’t sleep an
yway.”
Tessa patted Lenore’s shoulder. “Did you do the dishes, too?”
“No. Livvy left that kitchen so you could eat off the floor. I swear I didn’t touch anything else, not even the kids’ bedrooms.”
Raine nodded in agreement as she inspected the living room. “No wonder Livvy went to bed every night exhausted. This place looks frozen in time, the same as it did on that magazine cover some years back. It takes work to keep a place this tidy.”
Mitch’s eyes drifted to Raine. “Yeah. Nothing’s out of place.”
“Your mother told you how neat everything was when she walked in a week ago,” Tanner grumbled as he took off for another part of the house. “Now that I’m inside, I’m covering every inch of this house starting with Walker’s man cave.”
“Walker has a man cave?” Jackson asked as he took off after his dad.
“He has a damned room he keeps locked and off limits to everyone, called it his home office.”
“I gotta see this,” Mitch said as the others trailed after him, curiosity getting to the entourage.
Tanner led the march through the kitchen, past the utility room, and out into an open breezeway that connected the main house to the detached garage. Sandwiched in between was a smaller guesthouse built as an add-on to match the West Indies style and design.
The cabana style getaway had French doors, which Tanner found locked. Infuriated, he was just about to break a pane of glass to get inside when Jackson stilled his arm.
“Here, try the front door key first.”
To no one’s surprise the key didn’t turn the lock.
Garret pushed them both aside. “Let the master do his thing.” He proceeded to take out a key ring from his pocket with an assortment of accessories attached. One looked very much like a torque wrench. He slipped the thin blade into the lock and jiggled it until he heard a click. “Voilà. We have access.”
Tanner stared at his son. “I could’ve sworn I tossed that thing in the trash when you were fifteen after you broke into Cones & Scoops ice cream shop to get your geography book back.”
The Indigo Brothers Trilogy Boxed Set Page 19