The principal took the card, and McCoy turned his attention to Burt. “Let’s go to your home, Mr. Banks.”
Burt had lost some of his steam, and he allowed the sheriff to lead him to his Jeep.
Mattie took Robo to their SUV and loaded him in back, wishing she could be a fly on the windshield inside one of the two other cars. She’d like to be privy to whatever conversations were taking place with the parents, but she had to be satisfied with getting information pertinent to Candace’s death secondhand.
With Stella leading the way, they crossed Highway 12 and traveled in a three-vehicle caravan to the Banks’ house on the west side of town. Mattie parked on the street behind McCoy’s Jeep in front of a single-story ranch-style home built with weathered logs. Considering the age of many of the houses on this side of town, it might have been close to one hundred years old. Five towering spruce trees filled the front yard, their dropped needles preventing the growth of grass but giving the house a cozy-cabin appearance. There were no curbs or sidewalks on this street, but the area looked well kept—free of clutter, weeds, and debris. A large black kettle filled with dirt sat by the front door, and Mattie imagined Juanita planting pansies or geraniums in it once the threat of springtime frost had ended.
By now, it had turned dark, and a chilly breeze gained strength from the west. She thought of the crime scene techs doing their duties by the powerful, portable lights she knew they would bring with them. They all had a rough night ahead.
She hoped that Stella had gained permission for them to search Candace’s room. As she exited her vehicle, she caught Stella’s eye, and the detective gave her a nod that told her everything was a go. She went to the back of her SUV and opened Robo’s compartment.
“You’re going back to work, buddy,” she said in a quiet tone. She didn’t want to rub a drug search in either parent’s face, and she especially didn’t want to set off Burt. Best to change Robo’s collar to the one he wore specifically for narcotics detection here in her patrol vehicle and rev him up quietly before entering the Banks’ home.
Robo’s excitement settled as soon as she fastened his special collar around his neck, and he adopted his familiar businesslike attitude. Mattie invited him out of the back of the SUV and then told him to heel as she led him toward the front door. Stella and Juanita were waiting for her there, while Sheriff McCoy and Burt appeared to be deep in conversation inside the sheriff’s Jeep. Evidently, Burt was opening up to him about something. Mattie slipped past, hoping not to interrupt them.
“We’ll let Deputy Cobb take a look in Candace’s room while we talk to your sons,” Stella was saying to Juanita as Mattie approached. “Deputy, Mrs. Banks has approved a narcotics sweep of her daughter’s room. She believes you won’t find anything, but if something’s there, she’d like to know about it.”
Mattie nodded and followed the two inside the house, straight into the kitchen. Juanita’s sobbing had ceased, but she walked stooped forward, her arms clutching her middle. Television noise came from the room beyond.
“The boys are in the living room,” Juanita said, looking toward Stella as if for guidance.
“Where is Candace’s room?” Mattie asked.
“Through the living room and down the hall, first door on the right.”
“Deputy Cobb will go on through while we stay with your sons.” Stella guided Juanita through the kitchen, her hand on the mother’s elbow.
A quick visual sweep told Mattie that the kitchen furniture and appliances were old, though not quite as old as her own. The tan, brown-flecked linoleum on the floor appeared clean, and the beige laminate countertops, for the most part, tidy. Though there were breadcrumbs and jars of peanut butter and jelly out as well as a few dishes in the sink, the small mess was most likely from the kids making a snack.
The living room was dark, lit only by light from the television. Juanita moved as if automated to an end table beside the sofa and turned on a lamp. Two young boys, both elementary school age, sat on the sofa, and their eyes widened as they looked away from the television and saw the strangers behind their mother. Both of them ended up staring at Robo.
Mattie proceeded through the room without pause, flipping on a light switch as she entered the hallway. The stubby shag carpeting looked like it dated back at least twenty years, but the groomed surface showed that someone had vacuumed it recently. Apparently Juanita Banks prioritized housekeeping, despite working outside of her home. Mattie realized that once again she was making assumptions, but even though she knew little about Burt Banks, she couldn’t imagine him trying to make sure the house stayed tidy.
Mattie opened the first door on the right and went inside, turning on the overhead light. At first, she thought the place had been tossed, but closer inspection revealed the normal mess and clutter of a teenager’s bedroom: books, papers, and clothing scattered about; bed unmade, with comforter and blankets draped to the floor; soda cans and dirty dishes stacked in various places. Across from the bed sat a chest of drawers and a dresser with a large mirror. A bulletin board hung over the bed’s headboard with photographs, drawings, and greeting cards pinned to it.
Looking past the general mess and homing in on specifics, a few things stood out. Many of Candace’s shirts looked like they’d be more appropriate for summer than for early spring—tube tops, crop tops, and tanks with spaghetti straps. More revealing than Mattie expected for a girl her age, but consistent with what she’d been wearing at the crime scene.
She crossed over to the bed and scanned the photos pinned to the bulletin board. Here was a shot of Candace sandwiched between two high school boys that Mattie recognized, both boys with their arms around her. She made a mental note of their names. And here, another shot of Candace with one of the school jocks, whom she recognized as the team quarterback. They were posed together, the much larger boy bending over Candace so the two could stand cheek to cheek, both of them puckered up with a big kiss for the camera.
Mattie’s alarm bells were ringing. What was Candace, a thirteen-year-old junior high student, doing with these high school boys? She feared she knew the answer.
She decided to start the narcotics sweep at the bedroom doorway, move around the room to search the furniture, and then end with the closet. After patting Robo on the side and ruffling the fur at his neck, she unclipped his leash from the active ring on his collar and snapped it onto the dead ring so she wouldn’t distract him with inadvertent obedience signals. She withdrew a pair of latex gloves from her utility belt and slipped them on. “Okay, Robo, find some dope.”
Robo pinned his ears and turned into a sniffing machine. While holding his leash lightly in her left hand, Mattie used her right to guide him around the room, indicating under the bed, and giving him plenty of time to search the clothing and bedding that lay scattered about. His delicate black lips fluttered as he whiffed each item.
She opened each drawer and carefully moved the clothing for Robo to check. A flash of red from the bottom of the pile caught her eye, and though Robo didn’t alert, Mattie certainly did.
Oh, for Pete’s sake! Closer inspection had revealed a set of peekaboo lace underwear in firehouse red.
With a sinking feeling, Mattie closed the drawers, leaving the clothing where she’d found it.
She opened the closet door and saw nothing unusual; clothes seemed sparse with plenty of bare hangers, but then most of Candace’s things were apparently on the floor. Robo sniffed shoes thrown every which way and items of clothing that Mattie indicated. She was reaching above to inspect the upper shelf when a bellow came from the living room. Burt. And he was heading her way.
Mattie turned to face the doorway while Robo jumped in front of her, his eyes pinned on the door. Burt Banks hurtled into the room, his face filled with rage.
With hackles raised, Robo charged to the end of his leash, barking fiercely and showing his teeth. Mattie was ready and stopped him short of reaching the man.
Burt halted in his tracks, no less enr
aged. “Get the hell out of here!”
Relieved that she’d put Robo on a leash, Mattie tried to stay calm. Any wrong move from her would escalate Robo’s protective response. “Robo, out,” she said firmly, using the command to signal release of a captive or the end of a bite-and-hold maneuver. She wanted to make sure Robo knew that was not where his mind should be. “Down.”
She could tell he didn’t want to do it, but Robo exchanged his bark for a low growl and went into down position, his chest rumbling his displeasure. Hoping it would keep Burt at bay, Mattie decided to let him grumble. By now, Sheriff McCoy and Stella were right behind the man, and McCoy stepped around to block him from Mattie.
“Hold on there, Mr. Banks,” McCoy said, palms raised in a stay-back gesture. “My deputy has your wife’s permission to be in here.”
“I don’t care what she said. I say get out!” Burt raised a fist, causing a fresh wave of growls from Robo.
McCoy stepped closer, looming over the man. “You don’t want to fight us, Mr. Banks. Calm down and we’ll talk.”
Juanita appeared at the bedroom doorway, and the small room was feeling way too crowded. “Robo, quiet,” Mattie murmured, wanting to reduce the tension, and Robo’s growling ceased.
Lowering his hand, still fisted, to his side, Burt eyed the sheriff.
Juanita slipped past her husband and went to the bed. Bending to pick up the bedclothes, she murmured, “I don’t clean the children’s rooms.”
Stella moved to intervene. “Don’t worry about straightening things now, Mrs. Banks. We need to leave the room as it is.”
Juanita looked at Mattie. “Did your dog find any drugs?”
Mattie knew the woman would face her husband’s wrath later for letting her search. She’d earned the right to know. “No, ma’am.” And then she added for Sheriff McCoy’s information, “I’ve completed the search except for the upper shelf in the closet.”
“Get out of my baby’s room,” Burt said with a catch in his voice.
The tinge of grief, combined with the man’s rage, made Mattie’s gut tighten. Her mind leapt to her own parents, bringing back her childish observations of their interactions, but she pushed them away, studying Juanita’s face instead, trying to get a read on her emotions. The mother had sunk down on the bed, perching on the edge as if her legs could no longer hold her, and she was glaring at Burt. Mattie read sorrow and fury there—a fury so intense, she wondered if it could be called hatred.
Flashes of what she’d found here in Candace’s room came to mind: revealing shirts, trashy lingerie, suggestive pictures of Candace with boys older than she. Knowing that girls with a history of childhood sexual abuse often became promiscuous teenagers, hard questions formed inside Mattie’s brain.
Had Burt Banks ever molested his daughter? And did he have anything to do with her death?
Chapter 5
Sheriff McCoy eventually talked Burt down, but Robo didn’t relax his guard and neither did Mattie. She watched his hands, her body tense and poised, ready for a strike. But something had drained the fight out of Candace’s father. He sagged back against the doorjamb and put his hands to his face. She wondered what thoughts he might be hiding, and a cold finger trailed down her spine.
“Juanita,” Stella said quietly. “Is there a neighbor or someone in town who could look after your sons?”
Staring at the floor with a blank expression, the mother dipped her head in a slight nod.
“Let me help you call someone,” Stella said. “We’re going to need to have some time alone with you and your husband. And I don’t think the boys should be with us when we go see Candace.”
The two left together. The quiet vibration of Sheriff McCoy’s cell phone in his pocket seemed to shatter the room’s stillness. Burt dropped his hands from his face, and Mattie’s alert system kicked up another notch. She watched him carefully while McCoy removed his phone from his pocket and answered it. Robo also stood guard.
“Yes, Deputy.”
Must be Brody calling.
“Good. Bring it to the Banks’ home now.” He gave the address and disconnected the call.
McCoy looked at Burt. “Chief Deputy Brody is on his way with a warrant to search Candace’s room.” When Burt Banks stiffened and drew himself up into a fighting stance, McCoy added, “It’s common procedure at any unattended death where there’s a suspicion of homicide, Mr. Banks. And like I explained to you earlier, that’s what we suspect. It appears that someone was with your daughter when she died, and if that person killed Candace, we’ll waste precious time and leads if we don’t search for them right now. Does that make sense?”
Burt glared at the sheriff, still unable to back down.
“The best thing you can do for Candace is to let us do our job. We can wait a few minutes for the warrant to get here, or with your permission, Deputy Cobb can complete her search.”
Burt waved a hand in dismissal before turning his back and moving down the hall. “Go ahead and do what you have to do. You will anyway.”
“Finish up in here, Deputy,” McCoy murmured before leaving Mattie alone with Robo and her suspicions.
She went to the closet and stood on tiptoe, peering up into the shelf. At first glance, it seemed to be filled with mementos from the girl’s past: stacks of board games, puzzles, and picture books. Deciding to remove the first layer, Mattie took out the stack of board games first. Placing the boxes on the floor, she opened the lid on the top one—Candyland. She didn’t find what she’d expected. No playing board, no pieces, cards, or dice.
Instead, the box contained porn magazines and a cell phone.
Mattie sat back on her heels, taking it in before replacing the lid and setting the box aside. The other boxes from the shelf held no surprises—she simply found the games and puzzles that the labels declared. A thorough search of the books and other items on the shelf revealed nothing else unusual.
Stella reentered the room, pulling on a pair of gloves she’d taken out of her jacket pocket. “A neighbor came over to sit with Juanita. The sheriff made coffee, and he has Banks in the kitchen drinking it. Brody arrived with the warrant.”
These succinct statements summed up the situation outside Candace’s bedroom. To sum up the situation inside, Mattie opened the lid on the Candyland box, and Stella nodded as she took in the contents. Then Mattie went to the dresser, opened the drawer, and removed the peekaboo underwear.
When she held it up, Stella’s eyes widened. “Good Lord,” the detective muttered. “Candace seems a little young for stuff like that, but maybe not these days. I could be showing my age.”
“Surprised me too.” Mattie led her to the bulletin board, and this time she shared her thoughts. “These boys are in high school, much older than Candace.”
“We need their names.”
Mattie pointed to each one, stating the boy’s name in turn.
“You already know them?”
“Remember, I run the drug intervention program at the high school. I know a lot of the kids there.”
“Are these kids considered high risk for drugs?”
“Not that I’m aware of. Part of the jock crowd. All athletes.”
“Fits the profile of someone with muscle carrying her uphill,” Stella said.
“I suppose so.”
“We’ll need to interview them.” Stella continued to examine the photos, pursing her lips, a sign that told Mattie she was deep in thought.
Mattie decided to give her something else to think about. “The family dynamic is off.”
Stella nodded, saying, “Yeah,” as she looked away from the photos and met Mattie’s gaze.
“I suspect the father of molesting Candace.”
Stella squinted. “What makes you say that?”
Mattie waved a hand around the room. “This evidence. Girls who’ve been molested often grow into promiscuous teens.”
“We don’t know if she’s promiscuous yet.”
“That’s what it looks like
.”
“You might be overly sensitized to this subject,” Stella said.
“Maybe that’s not a bad thing.”
Stella studied Mattie’s face, and Mattie wondered what the detective was reading there. She arranged her features into a neutral mask.
“I’ll take your suspicion into consideration,” Stella said after a long moment. “I’ve already talked to Juanita. She’s pissed at him for being drunk and for not being home with the kids. He works at the mine in Rigby and stops at a bar in Hightower on his way home. He’s been drinking away a lot of his paycheck, and she’s sick of raising the kids by herself and doing all the work to keep up the house. She didn’t say one thing about suspecting him of abusing her children.”
“She might be in denial. Or afraid to report.”
Stella shrugged. “Could be. I’ll think about it. For now, let’s bag these things as evidence. I’ll go through that cell phone back at the station. Juanita confirmed that Candace does carry a backpack. Have you found it yet?”
“No, but the only area I’ve searched thoroughly is the closet. Robo cleared the entire room for narcotics, but we still need to go through the rest of this stuff piece by piece to see what else we’ve got.”
“Okay, let’s get started.”
*
The backpack didn’t turn up during the rest of their search. Leaving the room with Robo at her side, Mattie followed Stella into the living room, where Juanita sat with the neighbor, a Hispanic woman with a round face and kind eyes. A few strands of silver highlighted her black hair at her temples, and Mattie guessed her to be around Juanita’s age, early forties. Stella introduced her as Rosie Gonzales, and the lady acknowledged the introduction with a shy nod.
“We’re finished in Candace’s room for tonight, Juanita,” Stella said, “but I’m going to tape it off and not let you in there to clean until I’ve had a chance to look at it again during daylight.”
Juanita nodded slowly, as if she was barely able to move. Rosie reached toward her, and the two of them clasped hands. One tear trickled down Rosie’s cheek, making a fluid track on her smooth skin. Mattie made a mental note to add this woman to their list of people to interview, thinking she would be a valuable source for providing insight into the family dynamics.
Hunting Hour Page 5