Leighton Jones Mysteries Box Set

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Leighton Jones Mysteries Box Set Page 55

by N. M. Brown

Chapter Fifty-One

  Len Wells sat at his small table with a glass in his hand and the black box file closed in front of him. He had used duct tape to seal the whole thing up. With its black shape, scuffed surface and sealed edges, the box reminded him of an object from a Shirley Jackson story he had read in The New Yorker just after the war; about a town where everyone stones to death one of the residents every year as part of an ancient ritual. Nobody even remembered why they did – it was just a tradition.

  At the time, Len couldn’t believe that right-minded people would tolerate such a thing in a civil society. But after thirty-six years on the job, he realised that people would just about tolerate anything if it didn’t affect them personally.

  Len winced as a sudden flash of pain ripped through his body. He closed his eyes for a moment until it passed. When the pain had subsided, he picked up his glass and took a long drink of bourbon.

  With trembling hands, he folded a sheet of paper in half and then taped it to the top of the box. His final step involved using a thick Sharpie pen to write on the neat white rectangle of paper:

  Care of Leighton Jones.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Leighton was no longer interested in propriety and would have kicked the door open if it had been required. But he didn’t want to alert Craven. Having pulled on a pair of latex gloves, he tried the door of Craven’s trailer. When he found that it was locked, he crouched down on the rubber doormat and began using a small pick set to unlock it. In a decade of getting into locked cars abandoned along the highways, he had become highly skilled at using the tiny hooks and pins.

  The lock clicked open.

  Once inside, Leighton discovered that the place was baking hot but other than that it looked fairly tidy. Leighton pulled out his gun and removed the safety. Having a locked door and no car suggested the place was empty but he wasn’t taking any chances. He moved cautiously through the trailer from front to back. The neat living room led to a central section with a kitchen on one side and shower room on the other. There was a bedroom at the back with not much else. If Tina had been here, there wasn’t any sign of her now. But that meant that Craven had tidied the place, so Leighton knew that any clues would most likely be in one specific area.

  Stepping outside, Leighton let the door click locked behind him. He then walked down the two trailer steps and saw what he was looking for.

  A few feet away from the building, in a chicken wire enclosure, sat a metal trash can with a dented lid. Leighton holstered his gun, then walked over to it. After pulling off the lid, he let it clatter like a giant dime to the dusty ground. Leighton found himself looking at a black plastic sack, tied at the neck. He took his time untying the bag, then – once it was open – he rummaged inside hoping to find some item of clothing or perhaps some candy; anything that might relate to Tina. Instead, all he found were crushed beer cans. But beneath them was a crushed piece of paper. After fishing it out Leighton unfolded the paper and squinted – Pembleton Farm.

  Leighton frowned as he stared at the words. The name reminded him of Camp Pendleton – a nearby marine base, but this was spelled differently and Leighton knew from personal experience that there was no farm on the base.

  He returned the items to the bag, tied it and placed the lid back in place.

  As he climbed into his car, Leighton decided that the best place to find out this farm’s location was back at the station. However as he drove away, Leighton was unaware that his presence had being noted by Ralph Byars -the owner of the park - who lowered his binoculars and stepped back into his own trailer. By the time Leighton had left the trailer park, Byars was already on the telephone to the police.53

  He stared at the road atlas for the area under the index – but found nothing. Luckily for Leighton, the traffic department of Oceanside PD had maps going back sixty years or further to when the city was little more than a fishing harbour. He visited the archive area, located the shelf and pulled three of them covering the area around Old Mill Way from archives and now sat at his cluttered desk. Two of the maps had no mention of Pembleton Farm, but the last one did. It showed two small buildings surrounded by a crescent-shaped hill. Leighton heard his heartbeat thumping in his ear.

  After getting up from his desk, he crossed the office area to the large photocopier and ran off a couple of prints of the section. Returning to the desk he took out a red Sharpie and drew a circle around the farm on both copies.

  Leighton then stepped into Levvy’s office and held the map out as if it was a peace offering.

  She was sitting at the desk typing, looked up at him but said nothing.

  ‘Captain, I know I’ve been a pain in the ass, but if only to humour me, can you please direct some resources to this area? This is where she’s likely to be.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Levvy stared at his outstretched hand.

  ‘I know where she is,’ he said.

  ‘Based on what?’ the captain asked with a frown, ‘some hunch?’ Levvy took the map and glanced down at it and then back at Leighton.

  ‘I saw her in that area marked on the map,’ Leighton said, firmly. ‘Really, that’s enough.’

  ‘You don’t know that you saw her; you saw somebody in that area. So, you’re instinct is not enough to justify using valuable resources.’

  ‘Look, that’s not all – I found the home address of a guy who might be the suspect. His name is Edward Craven, he works for OGEC doing line repairs. He did a job in Fallbrook a couple of weeks ago. It all fits!’

  ‘You were told to let this whole thing go,’ Levvy said, firmly.

  ‘I know that, captain. But I’m only asking for this one thing. Then I’ll let it go.’

  ‘Look, give me a minute to speak to the chief, I’ll see what he’s willing to approve.’ Levvy stood up. ‘You sit right there.’

  ‘Thanks, captain, I appreciate this.’ Leighton sighed.

  When she was gone, Leighton gazed out of the small window and smiled. It had taken a while and he hoped to God it wasn’t too late, but at least now somebody was listening to him. If they could put a helicopter out with a paramedic, there was still a chance that they could save the little girl.

  Eventually, the office door opened, but it was Chief Winston rather than Levvy who looked in.

  ‘Hi, Leighton, can you come through next door for a moment?’

  Chief Winston entered the room ahead of Leighton and sat behind the dark wooden desk. There was no seat for Leighton who remained standing.

  ‘Did Levvy explain the situation, sir?’

  ‘She did indeed,’ Winston said.

  Leighton crossed the room and began to sit, but the chief held up a hand to stop him. The table between them was empty with the exception of a glass paperweight, a graduation photograph of the chief’s daughter and a blank sheet of A4 paper.

  ‘Don’t bother sitting, this will only take a minute.’

  ‘Okay,’ Leighton said, unable to gauge the chief’s tone.

  ‘Captain Levvy had already come to speak to me at our team debrief yesterday and informed me that she feels you are disobeying instruction and continually harassing her over the Blanchette case. Obviously, your actions in confronting her again today confirms this.’

  ‘Sir, I was only trying to–’ Leighton was silenced by the chief holding up a hand.

  ‘Against my better judgement – and in an effort to get your mind back on your job – yesterday afternoon I approved a night-time sweep of the area you specified, for six miles running south from the location of your sighting using a helicopter.’

  Leighton felt his heart rate suddenly increase. ‘What did they find?’

  ‘Nothing, they found absolutely nada. Do you know what that means?’

  ‘No.’ Leighton couldn’t think straight. If there was no heat signature, then Tina may already be dead.

  ‘I thought as much.’ Winston shook his head gravely. ‘It means – Officer Jones – that you are fundamentally wrong. That your mind i
s focused on some scary idea of a kid out there alone in the dark countryside, and the whole thing is a fucked-up fantasy.’

  Leighton started to speak, but the chief held up a hand to stop him again, and he fell silent. ‘I get it – clearly you genuinely believe that you saw Tina Blanchette, but you need to accept that is looking increasingly unlikely. If you are unwilling to accept that fact, your future as a cop is in serious jeopardy. As a cop with psychological issues and a reprimand on the record for abandoning your post, you’re already on shaky ground.’ Winston sighed. ‘But I know that all of this may not be enough to move you off this obsession, so you should know something else.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘We got another call from a member of the public confirming that a girl matching Tina’s description was seen in a McDonald’s just outside the Alaskan state line. She was with a man who she called ‘dad’, and the witness said she had some type of fairy tattoo on the back of her hand. That’s a detail that exactly matches information given to us by Angela Blanchette. It is also one we never shared outside of this investigation.’

  Leighton felt like he’d been hit by a freight train.

  ‘I’m sorry, chief. I really don’t know what to say.’

  ‘Say you’ll let this madness go and get on with doing your job.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Leighton rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I was just so sure.’

  ‘Look, Leighton, you’ve been through a lot this year, maybe you need to realise that your head will be messed up for a long time. Do you understand that?’

  ‘I guess I’m starting to.’

  ‘Well then go home for the day. Come back in the morning ready to work.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Leighton nodded.

  ‘And take this shit with you.’ He pushed the map across the table to Leighton, who folded it and slipped it into his pocket.

  After he was gone, Chief Winston swore under his breath. He was unsure if he could ever get Jones back on track, but for the time being things appeared potentially stable, though that didn’t mean it would last. Picking up the sheet of paper, Winston turned it over and took a pen from his shirt pocket. He began filling it in. The form was an S14 Record of Professional Misconduct.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  The stranger finished laying the six bear traps at various points in the long grass and trees surrounding the buildings. It had been a major effort too. In the early morning, he had driven in as far as he could from the south. The radio had said that many of the roads further north were closed because of spreading wildfires. So, he had bought a map at a gas station and found an old road which brought him within a mile or so of the farm. But that still left him with a lot of walking to do. To avoid burning himself out, he brought the traps in two at a time. They were heavy, but carrying one in each arm kept him equally balanced. It had taken over half an hour to make each trip, but he made decent time.

  The spring traps were difficult for one person to prize open, but he had eventually managed without losing any fingers. Now they were lying, like lethal open mouths, half hidden between the trees.

  Once the traps were all placed, the stranger dropped a can of soda and candy bar in the centre of each of them. That would hopefully attract the kid. But also let him know where they were.

  His plan was to enter each building in turn, flush the kid out. He reckoned she would most likely run into the flat wooded area in front of the buildings rather than up the steep slope behind them. She would foolishly think that she had more chance of escape in the woods.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  As Leighton walked along the corridor from administration to the locker room, he passed by Danny Clarke who was adjusting his belt in preparation for starting his shift.

  ‘Hey, Danny,’ Leighton said, ‘you still riding solo?’

  ‘Hell yeah,’ Danny said with a wink, ‘and it really beats the alternative, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘I hear you, buddy,’ Leighton said, trying to look and sound upbeat until Danny had gone.

  Leighton then trudged to the locker area. Everything felt wrong. He undid his belt and hung it on a flat hook in his locker. The inside door, which was hanging open, featured a Polaroid photograph of Annie drinking an impossibly large milkshake he had bought at Rubies Diner on the pier. It was a place they both loved to go; where Leighton would watch the tumbling waves, and Annie would look out for the comical pelicans. Leighton instinctively smiled when he saw the photograph. He missed her, but at least she would be home the following evening and that part of his life – the good part – would be complete again. Closing the locker, Leighton sat down in the empty space, ran a hand through his hair. He felt exhausted and emotionally drained. Taking a seat on one of the low benches, he stared at his feet and sighed.

  ‘Hey, Jonesy.’

  Leighton turned around to see Lisa standing in the doorway.

  ‘You look pretty tired there, are you alright?’ she asked.

  ‘No not really, the chief just dragged me in for a chat.’

  ‘Was it about the Blanchette kid?’ Lisa looked like she already knew the answer to the question.

  ‘Yeah. Looks like I’m wrong about it.’

  ‘Well, I heard they searched everywhere within the area you suggested, even used a helicopter fitted with infrared and found nothing.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s pretty much what I just heard too.’

  ‘So, if they’ve checked it all out, I suppose that’s it finished. You’re free to move on – maybe find a new hobby.’

  ‘Yeah, I guess I won’t need this anymore.’

  Leighton pulled out the crumpled photocopy of the map from his chest pocket and unfolded it. He peered at the map for a moment. Locating the place on the road where he had stopped. He used one fingernail to trace the line from the road to the site of the old farm biting his bottom lip as he stared at the image.

  ‘I got it wrong,’ he said, quietly, almost in in whisper. ‘They were looking in the wrong damned place.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Lisa asked with a note of concern that was more for Leighton than the missing girl.

  ‘The area they looked at was too far south.’

  ‘Meaning what?’

  ‘When I first looked at the area, I figured she would have followed the slope of the landscape as it ran downwards south towards the coast. But the area the suspect’s wrote down lies uphill. I think she must have wanted to be uphill, maybe to be able to see if she was being followed. That’s why they couldn’t find her in that area!’

  Lisa looked at Leighton with a combination of pity and frustration. There seemed no way back from the abyss for him.

  ‘Are you listening to yourself, Leighton? What if you sent another helicopter unit out to your new location and they found nothing there either, what would you say then – they were too far east or too far west? You need to step back from this type of thinking before it destroys you.’

  ‘I can’t do that,’ Leighton said. ‘I can let somebody else down.’

  ‘Well, maybe that says more about you than it does about this case.’

  ‘What’s that mean?’

  ‘Look,’ Lisa sighed, ‘I very much doubt there’s a little girl out there waiting to be rescued, but I can see that there’s a man in front of me who needs to be a hero, for whatever reason. But that doesn’t make it real.’

  Leighton was already standing up.

  ‘Whether I’m right or wrong, you never saw me,’ Leighton said.

  Before Lisa could even respond, he was gone.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Tina made a decision. She now accepted that nobody was coming for her. The stranger was the only person who knew where she was. That meant she had to rely on herself if she was going to survive. She had been crouched in a corner of one of the four rooms in the office building. From her position she could peer through a hole in the plaster at the stranger who had been arranging something in the woods. When he had finished, he came out from among the trees
, whistling while carrying a long-handled axe. He then made his way into the barn.

  Tina held her breath and tiptoed through to the main office, which was closest to the barn. From here she had a partial view of the inside. Initially, Tina had thought optimistically that the stranger was going to climb into the pit, but instead he seemed to clamber up on to the platform. At this point he was lost from sight, but Tina heard loud smashing and cracking noises, which told her he was using the axe to smash the platform up. Tina watched in horror as huge planks of wood dropped on the floor and into the central pit. One of them lay across the top of it like the balance beam they used in her school gymnasium.

  Finally, when there was nothing remaining of the upper floor of the barn but a thin ledge, the stranger slid down wrecked planks to the floor below. It was then that he appeared to notice something down in the pit.

  The stranger seemed to stop moving entirely, as if hypnotised by the sight. The planks he had dropped into the pit created countless new hiding places down there in the darkness. Eventually, he stepped forward and gripped the top of the rusting ladder. Then he began to climb down.

  As soon as she saw him descend into the machine pit, Tina crawled through the hole at the back of the office wall and began scrambling barefoot up the slope of the hill.

  She made it to the top and had hoped to walk back in the direction she had come four days earlier, but when she reached the top, Tina found herself looking at a very different landscape. The entire area was blanketed in grey smoke. Putting her hand to her mouth, Tina tried in vain to block out the choking smell of burning wood. In the distance, she could just make out a glowing orange ribbon of fire, flickering crazily on the horizon. This ribbon appeared to be moving rapidly in her direction.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

 

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