Interesting. He used the present tense when referring to Evans. “I paid a visit to Evans’s apartment earlier today. He’s dead.”
Graham started, eyes wide. “Overdose?”
Not a faked reaction. The man hadn’t heard. “Nope. His throat was slit, just like the two in the park.”
Graham dropped his head into his hands. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” His voice was muffled by his fingers.
“Maybe you should have considered that before you struck a deal with a murdering drug dealer.” Jenkins rose. “I’ll be back.” The man needed some time to think about the reward his actions had reaped.
NINETEEN
The stained carpet in front of Detective Jenkins’s desk bore evidence that Chase’s feet were not the first to pace there. He wandered back and forth along a five-foot trail like a caged lion, ready to pounce at the first glimpse of his prey.
The prey finally stepped into the room. Chase snatched the folder off the desk’s littered surface and whirled to thrust it into Jenkins’s chest.
“I thought you said you needed this immediately. I’ve been waiting here twenty minutes.”
Jenkins’s eyebrows rose. “You’re not supposed to be here at all, but you refuse to do as you’re told.”
The man’s cold expression irked him, but Chase bit back a sharp retort and forced himself to wait silently as the detective rounded his desk, sat, and reached for the telephone.
“Matthews, where are you?” A long pause. “That’s not good.” A shorter pause. “Have somebody get a sample, and send it to the lab. Then get over to Graham’s place. He says there’s a cargo of candles in a lean-to at the back of the property. Call me the minute you have them.”
Chase ground his teeth. Forget those stupid candles. What are you doing to find Caitlin? He wanted to demand an answer, but he’d learned last year that demands got him nowhere with Jenkins. Instead, he focused on not exploding while the detective called someone else.
“Any update on the Graham boy?” He listened. “I see. How’s the mother doing?” A nod. “Good, good. Keep me posted.”
He’s doing this on purpose just to irritate me. Well, Chase’s patience would only last so long. Then he’d blow like Mount St. Helens.
Fortunately, Jenkins hung up the phone and pulled the folder toward him. “Let’s see what we have here.” He opened the file and thumbed through the short stack of papers inside.
“There’s his identification.” Chase leaned over and lifted a sheet from the folder. “See, it’s his Santa Fe driver’s license, which is all he had when he first came to town. And there’s his Social Security card.”
With a withering look, Jenkins plucked the paper from his fingers. “I know you’re concerned about Miss Saylor and the Graham girl, which is why I’m not having you thrown out on your ear. But watch yourself, Hollister.”
Chase gulped the words that were trying to slingshot out of his mouth. He nodded.
Jenkins studied the paper, then laid it aside. He picked up Alex’s employment application and scanned it. “Didn’t have much experience with candles before you hired him, did he?”
“No, but he didn’t need any. Candle making isn’t hard. What we mostly needed was someone willing to learn, who could pick up the slack after Kevin—” Chase couldn’t bring himself to continue.
Jenkins returned the paper to the file. “I heard something from Graham a few minutes ago you might like to know. He said he’s pretty sure Alex Young forced heroin on your friend before he killed him.”
The room wavered. Chase placed his hands on the desk and leaned his weight on them. I knew it, buddy. I knew it. You weren’t using drugs after all.
He cleared his throat. “So Alex for sure killed Kevin?”
Jenkins lifted a shoulder. “Graham seemed fairly certain about that. He thinks Young approached him with the scheme to place drugs in the candles, and when Duncan refused, he killed him to keep the scheme secret. Then he took his place at your factory.”
“But why would he force Kevin to take heroin?”
Jenkins shook his head. “Son, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in this business, it’s that drug dealers like Young are just plain evil. Sometimes there’s no rhyme or reason to their actions, other than pure meanness.”
He’d been jumping to conclusions for a year now. First Kevin, and then Korey. And he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion about Alex, too. He’d missed recognizing a coldblooded killer, even though he worked with him day in and day out for almost a year.
Kevin, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted you.
“Maybe we’re wrong.” An unreasonable hope swelled behind his breastbone. “What if we’re jumping to conclusions, and Caitlin and Nicky are off eating an ice-cream cone somewhere? I’ve been wrong about a lot of things lately.”
Jenkins held his eye for a long moment. “You’re not wrong about this.”
“How do you know?” Chase issued the question as a challenge.
The detective tapped the phone receiver. “Deputy Matthews just searched Miss Saylor’s room at the Nashville Inn. He found blood on one of the beds.”
The room around Chase dimmed. If that slime bucket hurt Caitlin—
“Not a lot,” Jenkins hurried to add. “A few drops, such as might come from a minor wound. But blood in the room of a missing woman is proof that something’s amiss.”
The cell phone at his belt beeped. He picked it up, glanced at the screen, and answered. “Jenkins here. What’d you find?” His lips pursed as he listened. “All right. Secure it. I don’t know how long it’ll be before we can spare an evidence tech. We’re keeping them busy today. In the meantime, get over to the Graham residence and see if Matthews and Kincaid need any help.”
He hung up the phone and heaved a sigh. “Young’s apartment is clean. No drugs, no paraphernalia.”
“And no hostages.” Chase’s voice was flat.
Jenkins shook his head.
Where are you, Caitlin? Where did he take you?
“I was sure you’d find something there. I mean, he doesn’t receive the drugs already divided up in all those little tin packets. Doesn’t heroin come in big plastic bags?”
“The powder form does. The stuff we’re dealing with here looks more like a lump of coal. Only sticky, like hardened tar.” The detective stared at the ceiling, silent a moment. “Still, you’d think it would arrive in a large quantity, and Young would have to break it up. He’d need equipment for that, scales and so on. Where did he do it?”
“Willie’s place?” Chase suggested.
Jenkins shook his head. “We searched there this morning. Nothing like that on the premises. Besides, Evans was an addict. Young wouldn’t trust him with that much heroin.”
“Then he has another place. Someplace we don’t know about.” Realization dawned on Chase. “I’ll bet that’s where he’s taken Caitlin and the girl. We just have to find out where that is.”
“Did he have friends? Someone he might have talked to?”
Chase shook his head. “I have no idea who he knew outside of work. He liked to hang out in bars, that’s all I know.”
Jenkins shot out of the chair. “At least we have one person in custody who might know something. And he’s motivated to help.”
Chase trailed the detective, half-afraid he’d be ordered to leave. But he wasn’t, and he stayed on Jenkins’s heels all the way to the conference room where he’d been questioned earlier that afternoon. Ed Graham occupied the seat opposite the door, elbows on the table, his head in his hands. When they entered, the man looked up, hope flaring in his red-rimmed eyes.
“Have you found Nicky?” He glanced from the detective to Chase and back again.
Jenkins shook his head. “Not yet. But we’re doing everything we can.” The detective punched a button on the recorder, and the machine began a quiet whirr. “I need to ask you another question about Young. What do you know about his process? Did he package the heroin himself, o
r did it come to him prepackaged?”
“I have no idea. We never talked about that. I’ve never even seen heroin myself. Just the candles,” Graham said.
“What about a location? Did he ever mention anything about where he went to pick up his shipments? Or maybe he mentioned a private place he liked to hang out?”
Graham sat silently a minute, chewing on his lip. “We met a couple of days before every shipment at the Moonlight Tavern for a drink. That’s where I paid him for—” his gaze flickered toward Chase “—the candles. But he never mentioned anywhere else.”
Chase folded his arms to keep from pummeling Graham. This guy was almost as big a slime bucket as Alex. How could Jenkins keep his temper in check while talking to him? Why didn’t he get in the man’s face?
The detective nodded. “Okay. We’ll send someone to the Moonlight Tavern.” He flicked off the recorder. “I checked with the deputy at the hospital. Your son is out of surgery.”
Graham straightened. “And?”
Jenkins’s voice softened. “He’s okay. In serious but stable condition. The doctor says he’s going to make it.”
“Oh, thank goodness.” Graham leaned his head backward, his eyes closed. “Thank goodness.”
“There’s more.”
He looked up.
“Deputies searched the wreckage of the automobile he and the other boy were driving. They found two purple candles, broken into chunks.”
After one frozen moment, Ed Graham collapsed across the table, sobbing as though his heart had been torn in half.
Never in a million years did Chase think he would feel sorry for a slimy drug dealer.
TWENTY
Inside the green Toyota, Caitlin clutched the seat belt and watched the road. If a miracle happened and they got away from Alex, she needed to know where they were. He’d made a couple of turns off the highway that led out of town. Left, then right. The road swelled with the land and the Toyota swerved around several wide curves. Not many cars passed them on this two-lane road, but they continued to drive by single-story houses with long front yards, tucked back from the road in deep shade from all the trees.
“So, what’s wrong with your brother, kid? Why’s he in the hospital?” Alex’s question startled Caitlin. He actually sounded curious.
Nicky continued to stare out the passenger window. She remained silent.
Alex met Caitlin’s gaze in the mirror.
“Come on, tell me what’s going on. Is he sick?”
Nicky answered without turning her head. “He was in a car wreck.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He did sound sorry, the liar.
Nicky glanced at him. “You are?”
Don’t talk to him, Nicky. Don’t let him draw you in. He’s a sick, sick person.
“Sure. But you know who I feel sorriest for?” That got the girl’s full attention. “Your mom. She may lose both her kids in one day.”
A choked cry came from Nicky’s throat, her chest heaving.
Anger flared in Caitlin. “That’s enough! You leave her alone, do you hear me? You’re just being cruel.” Surprised at her own temerity, she snapped her jaw shut. She’d just scolded a murderer.
Instead of flaring up, Alex laughed. “You’ve got spunk, I’ll give you that. No wonder Chase wanted to keep you to himself.”
Tears stung her eyes at the mention of Chase’s name. Her watch read ten past six. In twenty minutes he would arrive at the hotel to pick her up. Surely he’d try to call when she didn’t meet him in the lobby as they arranged. He’d get no answer.
Oh, Chase, hurry. When you realize we’re missing, you’ll look for us, I know you will.
The whole idea of the dateless year seemed ridiculous now. If she’d known what a short time she’d have with Chase, she would have thrown herself into his arms, rebound or not. The memory of their last moments together, that brief but powerful kiss on the cheek, lingered. If a miracle happened and she made it through this ordeal, she wouldn’t hesitate to tell him how she felt.
Maybe someone else was searching for them by now. Janie would have remembered her daughter, no matter how distracted she was by her son’s condition. Wouldn’t she?
Lord, please nudge someone. Let them know we’re in trouble.
The houses whizzed by outside, getting farther and farther apart, separated by thick stands of forest. She hadn’t seen an oncoming car in several minutes, and very few people were in the yards they passed. Fear crept toward terror. He was taking them way back in the hills, where no one could find them. And when he got them there …
Up ahead, Caitlin caught sight of someone getting out of a car parked at the front of a long driveway. The woman left the door open while she walked toward a mailbox along the side of the road.
If only Caitlin weren’t sitting in the center of the backseat. If she were near the door, she’d punch the automatic window button and scream for help as they went by. Maybe she could—
She watched the back of Alex’s head as she leaned toward the door. But she was too slow. Her finger hadn’t even reached the button when they zoomed past the woman.
Six-fifteen. Chase paced in front of Jenkins’s desk while the detective stared at the papers in Alex’s personnel folder. What did the guy hope to get out of them? And more importantly, why wasn’t he doing something?
Chase planted his feet and glared at the man. “We can’t just sit here. Every minute we waste, Alex is getting farther and farther away with them.”
Jenkins set down the I-9 and returned to the employment application. For the fifth time.
“We’re not just sitting here. The AMBER Alert network is in full alert mode. I have every available deputy scouring this town. There are a couple at the hotel, a team at Graham’s store, and another at his house. Yet another at Young’s apartment. And when Matthews is finished at the house, he’s heading to the Moonlight Tavern to question everyone there. We’re covering every base.”
As he studied the paper, one hand tugged at the hair behind his ear. Chase fought an unreasonable impulse to reach across the desk and pull that hair out by the roots. He shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Why don’t we go to the Moonlight Tavern and question people ourselves?”
Jenkins raised his eyes without moving his head. “We?”
Chase threw his hands in the air. “You can’t expect me to sit around and do nothing!”
“That’s exactly what I expect you to do, Hollister. You’ve given us everything you have that’s pertinent. We appreciate your help. Now go away. Go home. Let us handle this.”
He’d go crazy sitting at home. Surely Jenkins knew that. “I’ll go to the Moonlight Tavern myself.”
He headed toward the door, but the detective’s voice stopped him. “If you do, you’ll find yourself cooling your jets in a holding cell until this thing is over.”
“You can’t throw me in jail for no reason.”
Jenkins rocked back in his chair and folded his hands across his middle. The look he fixed on Chase said, Try me.
Chase returned to the desk, where he stood silent and fuming.
Jenkins picked up the application and held it in front of his face, his elbow propped on the desk. “Something’s bugging me about this, but I can’t put my finger on it. Young worked at a convenience store in Santa Fe for two years before moving to Indiana. Prior to that, he says he was self-employed as an auto mechanic.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Did you check his references?”
“Of course. Well, from his most recent job. There was nobody to call for a business he ran out of his garage.” Chase closed his eyes and tried to remember. “I talked to the manager of the convenience store. Actually, he wasn’t too happy with Alex. Said he’d been fairly reliable, but apparently his mother got sick and he took off with no notice other than a brief phone message.”
“And you hired him anyway?”
The interview with Alex was pretty vague in Chase’s mind. He’d be
en an emotional wreck at the time, reeling over Kevin’s violent death and the allegations of his drug use. “He said his mom had been in an accident and he had to hurry to get to her before she died.” Chase remembered now. He’d felt sorry for Alex at the time, and a sense of kinship with him over losing someone close unexpectedly. “After she died, he said he didn’t want to go back to Santa Fe, and he couldn’t force himself to stay at her place in Minnesota. So he headed east until he landed in Nashville and decided this would be a good town to call home.”
“Lucky us.” Jenkins stared at the paper a second more, then his eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. New Mexico. Minnesota. Indiana. Did he ever mention living anyplace else? Like Phoenix, maybe?”
Chase shook his head. “Not that I ever heard.”
“Because Graham said when he met Young, he’d just moved here from Phoenix.”
Chase shrugged. “He was probably lying.”
“Yeah, but to which one of you?”
What difference did it make? Chase didn’t see how this conversation could help them find Caitlin and Nicky. “I don’t know. Does it matter?”
“It might.” Jenkins slid the computer keyboard toward him and started punching keys, his gaze fixed on the monitor. “Anything we can learn about this guy might give us a lead.”
Curious in spite of the mounting sense of urgency that wouldn’t let him stand still, Chase circled around to stand behind Jenkins’s chair. A database appeared on the screen. Jenkins clicked the mouse and a picture of Alex popped up. The muscles in Chase’s stomach clenched at the sight of the dirty rat.
“There’s his current driver’s license record,” Jenkins commented. “We’re spreading that picture around the state, along with a description of his car and the hostages.”
Murder in D Minor Boxed Set Page 50