Works of Darkness (Matt Foley/Sara Bradford series Book 1)

by V. B. Tenery

  He reached for his phone and paged Miles.

  Moments later, his phone rang. “You wanted me, Chief?”

  “Stop by my office when you get a chance. I have—” Matt’s office door opened and Councilman Hall stepped inside. Matt ignored him and finished the call. “As I was saying, stop by when you have a chance. I have something I want you to see.”

  Matt replaced the receiver and turned his chair around to face Hall. “Something I can help you with, Terry?”

  Hall stood in front of Matt’s desk, his feet apart. “As a matter of fact, there is. I’d like an update on the Pryor case.”

  Matt turned his yellow pad face down, and looked up at Hall. “I report to the city manager, Terry. And I give him a daily update. You need to see Doug. If he wants to share that information, fine.”

  The councilman shifted his weight to the balls of his feet. “Do you have a suspect? What are your plans to find the killer?”

  “The case is twenty-five years old, and the body was discovered Thursday. It’s going to take more than three days to clear the file.”

  Hall’s face flushed red. “It won’t get solved if you don’t stay on top of your people. I was by your office at nine o’clock and you weren’t even in yet.”

  Matt leaned back in his chair and looked into Hall’s eyes. “My work hours are not your responsibility, Terry.”

  Hall planted his hands on the desk and leaned forward into Matt’s personal space. “This is the most important case this city has ever covered. I won’t be embarrassed by a sloppy performance by the police department. I don’t want excuses, Foley. I want this investigation to run in a flawless, professional manner. If you’re not up to this job, the city can find someone who is.”

  Matt stood and shoved his chair against the wall, his hands gripped into tight fists.

  The councilman stepped back and his red face deepened to the shade of a ripe tomato.

  Matt said nothing. He walked to the door, held it open, and pointed the way out.

  “Wait a minute,” Hall shouted. “We’re not finished here.”

  “Yes, we are.” Matt flexed his fingers to keep them from balling into fists again. “I’ve never needed your assistance to do my job, and I don’t need it now. If you have a problem with that, I suggest you take your complaint to the city manager.”

  Matt waited until Hall stepped into the hallway. “And, Terry, don’t ever walk into my office again without knocking.”

  Hall stormed down the corridor, leaving smoke in his wake.

  Davis poked his head around the door. “Is it safe to come in?”

  After five deep breaths to get his blood pressure under control, Matt waved Davis in. Matt ripped the notes he’d made from the scratch pad. “Take a look at this and get with Lucy. She and Cole are working the Global explosion.”

  Davis glanced at his partner and rolled his eyes. “Do I have to? She’s as prickly as a cactus.”

  “The cases you guys have may be connected.”

  “Possibly,” Davis said. “By the way, Chief, I think you should have shot The Terror. Justifiable homicide in my book.”

  The detectives left, and Matt returned to his desk. Before he was seated, his phone rang.

  Dale McCulloch’s voice sounded in his ear. “Can you come down to the lab for a minute? A few things I need to fill you in on.”

  The CSU Chief had been with Matt since McCulloch graduated college. The best hiring decision of Matt’s career. He pushed his chair back and stood. “I’m on my way.”

  Mac met him at the door. Counter surfaces were immaculate, like the starched white lab coat McCulloch wore. His muscular body was packed into a six-foot frame, his dark auburn hair swept off his brow. Unlike most redheads, he had an olive complexion, hazel eyes, and was considered the resident hunk by the ladies at the station.

  A kind of energy flowed in the lab, along with the faint smell of chemicals. Energy, generated by McCulloch, no doubt. Matt had never seen the man sit back with a cup of coffee or for that matter, he never saw him in the break room. Not his style.

  Mac plopped into his chair and kicked out a stool for Matt. “I contacted a friend at the FBI lab. They’re swamped, but he moved my sample on the sleeping bag to the top when I told him the victim was the governor’s niece.” He pointed to the red fabric swatch. “This particular bag was an exclusive, as in expensive, model. Lightweight, thermal insulated and waterproof. The manufacturer only made about two thousand, most of which were sold locally in one exclusive sporting goods store, then went out of business.”

  “Trying to track down the buyer is probably a dead end,” Matt said. “Most retailers don’t keep sales receipts for more than seven years.”

  The lab man beamed at him. “But here is something I think you’ll like.” He turned his computer monitor towards Matt. The screen showed a lab tech in front of a large machine. Mac tapped the image with his pen. “That’s a VMD chamber. It can remove fingerprints from fabric. Not sure it will work on material this old, but it’s worth a try.”

  Matt leaned forward. “You’re telling me it’s possible to lift the fingerprints of Penny Pryor’s killer off her clothing?”

  A wide grin spread over McCulloch’s face, and he nodded. “Not lifted, exactly, they’re photographed. It’s called vacuum metal deposition and uses gold and zinc to recover the prints. The science has been around since the 70s. However, its latest use has created a lot of excitement among fingerprint experts because it can raise prints from cloth. One of the best fabrics is polyester, and Penny Pryor’s jumpsuit is a polyester blend. The VMD can even raise prints on items that have been immersed in water. How cool is that?”

  “That’s way cool, my friend.” His smile must have outshone McCulloch’s. “You’re a genius, and I don’t pay you enough.”

  McCulloch chuckled. “Don’t think I won’t remind you of that at my next performance review.” He held up a finger. “Keep in mind, Chief, that my buddy can’t put this at the head of the line. We’ll have to wait our turn.”

  “Did you show this to Detective Davis?”

  “Yeah, he and Hunter were gaga.”

  VDM technology had just increased the odds of closing the Pryor case. It was doable. God bless forensic science. “For this, I can wait, but see if you can bribe him.”

  When he returned to his office, he had a message to call Doug Anderson. No doubt what that was about. He punched in the city manager’s number.

  Doug answered the phone with a question. “What did you do to Hall to set his tail feathers on fire?”

  “His tail is always on fire. I just refused to bring him up to date on the Pryor case. Not that there was anything to share at the moment. You know what a grandstander he is, and I don’t want to read the details of this investigation in the newspaper.”

  His boss expelled a deep breath into the phone. “He was screaming about your coming in late, like it was any of his business. For the record, I told him you were up late saving a woman’s life.”

  “How did you find out about that?”

  “There are no secrets in Twin Falls. And by the way, it was a stupid stunt diving into the lake as you did.”

  “Stupid, maybe but she would have died if I hadn’t. You’d be dragging the lake for her body today.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ll share your report with Hall to keep him out of my hair. But I’ll tell him if he leaks anything, the deal is off.”

  “As long as you keep him away from me,” Matt said. “For the record, I think it’s a bad idea.”

  Matt hung up the receiver and mumbled. “A very bad idea.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Twin Falls Baptist Church

  Matt parked his car on the street in front of the church. A crowd milled around furniture, clothes racks, and merchandise tables in the parking lot. He made his way through the sanctuary to the pastor’s office. The door stood open.

  Seth Davidson sat at his desk, engrossed in paperwork. When Matt rapped on the doorf
rame, Seth looked up. The pastor rose and came around the desk, a big grin on his face, his hand outstretched. “Hey, Matthew, come in, come in. Did you want to have our session early this week?”

  After Mary’s death, Matt spent every Thursday afternoon with his pastor in grief counseling. “No. Today it’s business. I’d like to ask you about the Pryor family.”

  “What a sad affair.” Seth shook his head and moved a stack of books from a chair, then motioned for Matt to sit. “I spent Friday with Lily and Sam after they got the news. Tragic as it seems, finding her body brought closure. At the same time, they’re going through a new period of mourning, wondering if she suffered, and all the pain that goes with that. How may I help you, Matthew?”

  “You lived in their neighborhood when Penny disappeared?”

  Seth nodded. “I had just started here as pastor. Evie and I lived one street over. When we learned of Penny’s disappearance that night, we went to help search and later to pray with them. Friday was a flashback to that whole ordeal.”

  “Do you recall any of your neighbors who may have driven a white panel truck back then, or if they still live in town?”

  “It’s been such a long time.” The pastor leaned back in his chair as though clearing the cobwebs from his memory. “Sorry, nothing comes to mind. The church had a blue bus-type van back then. We used it for our children’s outreach.”

  Matt rose from the chair then shook the pastor’s hand. “Thanks, Seth. If you remember anything you think will help, give me a call.”

  ****

  The anger management problem Sam Pryor had before his daughter disappeared, crossed Seth’s mind. But he couldn’t share that with Matthew. The conversation was privileged information. And it had nothing to do with the case.

  After Penny vanished, the Pryors dropped out of church. They blamed God for the loss of their daughter. Distraught, Lily asked all the questions Seth couldn’t answer. Questions like, “Why did God let this happen?” The inadequacy Seth felt back then still plagued him—unable to dissuade them from blaming God for their loss.

  After Matthew disappeared down the hallway, Seth walked into the sanctuary and knelt at the altar, heart burdened. He whispered a prayer, “Lord, you know I will never have all the answers. I depend on you to give Sam and Lily comfort. Give me wisdom and help me teach them to hold to the promise that you will never forsake them, that you will always be just a prayer away. Especially in something as terrible as the loss of a child. Heavenly Father, please help this family find peace in the face of such evil.”

  ****

  On the way to his car, Matt spotted Sara Bradford. He weaved around the shoppers and clutter, to her side. “If you have a minute, I need to ask you a few questions.” He glanced down at his watch. “Have you had lunch?”

  She shook her head. “No, but I can’t leave. The school called and one of my helpers had to pick up her son.”

  “Okay, I’ll bring lunch to you. What’ll it be?”

  The corners of her mouth tilted up. “I’d like a burger with everything, and fries.”

  “Mustard or mayo?”

  “Both.”

  Twenty minutes later, Matt returned with the food.

  Sara waved a woman over to take her place. “Let’s go into the fellowship hall. It’s more comfortable there.”

  Matt followed her inside to a table and then crossed to the coffee pot in the kitchenette. “What’s your pleasure?”

  “I take it black.”

  He poured two cups and brought them to the table. “I was surprised to see you here. You probably need a day off after last night.”

  “Thanks again, Matt...for what you did...I’m not sure I showed proper appreciation last night. You saved my life.” She stirred the coffee with the small red stick. “Staying home would only make me relive the drama. Here, I can at least take my mind off of it for a while.”

  She pushed back the paper wrap from her sandwich and took a bite. “Mmm, good burger. You bought this at the Burger Shack.”

  “You recognized the sack.”

  “No, the taste. I’m a burger connoisseur.”

  He chuckled. “I didn’t know. Is that contagious?”

  A light came into her eyes. “No, but it is hereditary. My mom was a gourmet cook. She could make anything. Cornish game hens, beef Wellington, you name it. I drove her crazy because my grandfather’s and my favorite meal was hamburgers and fries.”

  “I’ll make a note of that. By the way, don’t drive home alone after dark. Call me and I’ll either come or send a patrol car to follow you. What are you driving?”

  She took a long drink from the cup and gazed across the table at him. “Thank you, Matt. I know that’s beyond the ‘to protect and serve’ mandate. I’m driving a blue box with four doors and four wheels. My purse, cell phone, license, and credit cards all went down with the ship.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  She shrugged. “Pete brought me in this morning and I rented the first thing we saw. I can’t replace the roadster until the insurance company settles, and that may take some time. The fact they have to pay for a rental car may speed up the process.”

  “Must be tough to lose such a sweet ride.”

  “How did you know what I...? Of course, you checked the car out the night Josh died.”

  “I did.”

  She exhaled a breath and looked over his shoulder, out the window. “The loss isn’t so bad. But you didn’t buy lunch to talk about my transportation problems. More questions about Sunday night? I thought we covered that.”

  Matt leaned forward. “I need to ask you about the explosion at Global. Tell me about the accident. Lately, it seems every case that crosses my desk has your name on it.”

  Bright red spots appeared on her cheeks. “Is that an insinuation?” She shook her head. “You haven’t questioned me about the Valentine’s Day Massacre or the disappearance of Jimmy Hoffa.”

  He chuckled. “You’re too young for those cases. Don’t get angry. It isn’t an indictment. Just an observation. Seems odd, after the lake incident. Tell me about Friday.”

  She stared at him for a minute before she spoke. “What do you want to know?”

  “Start at the beginning, when you entered the warehouse. We’ve confirmed a bomb caused the blast. Someone intended to harm you or someone else. After last night, I don’t think there’s any doubt you were the target. The next step is to determine why.”

  She stopped mid-chew. “That is so unreal. There are easier ways to kill someone than with a bomb.”

  “I never try to explain the criminal mind.”

  “Before you ask, I have no idea how to make a bomb. I couldn’t even make a firecracker.”

  He ignored the sarcasm. “Fired anyone recently who might have a grudge against you?”

  “Possibly. A few months back, a supervisor terminated a woman who became violent. I don’t get involved in terminations unless it’s at the management level. Employees with that kind of grudge would go after the director or the supervisor. However, once an associate is let go, he or she no longer has access to any part of Global. If you wish, I’ll call the director to give you a list of recent terminations.” She shook her head. “I can’t wrap my brain around the fact that someone wants to kill me. Even after last night.”

  Matt considered his answer before he spoke. He didn’t want to frighten her, but she needed to deal with reality. He wadded his trash and stuck it into the burger sack. “Believe it. Get that list to me or the two detectives on the case. Have you spoken to Lucy Turner or Cole Allen?”

  “Yes, over the phone.” She shifted in the chair, apparently eager to return to work. “They asked the same questions you just asked.”

  “Be sure the list gets to Detective Turner.” It occurred to Matt that one of Josh’s former girlfriends might have a grudge against Sara. He’d ask Lucy to check that out. A lot of time had elapsed since Josh’s death, but there was no time limit on revenge and jealousy. He pushed on. “Is t
here anyone who might want to personally harm you? For any reason outside the workplace? Any disgruntled boyfriends?”

  A moment of awkward silence passed before she answered. “I don’t have a boyfriend, disgruntled or otherwise.”

  He couldn’t let that pass. He’d seen her date Saturday night. “What about Jeff what’s-his-name? You were with him at the country club banquet.”

  Her demeanor shifted. Thoughtful. “Jeff isn’t a boyfriend, he’s a friend.”

  Matt grinned. “Maybe that’s why he’s disgruntled.”

  “You have a very warped sense of humor.” She placed her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. “Until yesterday, I would have said I have no enemies. Now, it seems an inescapable fact.”

  “Until we get a handle on this, you should stay away from Global. Whoever planted that bomb appears to have easy access.” He checked his watch. “I have to go. It might also be a good idea to remain close to home.”

  She stood and tossed her trash into the receptacle. “I’m on vacation for two weeks.”

  “Good, remember what I said about the escort home.”

  ****

  Sara hadn’t mentioned her job status. That was need-to-know information, and there was no need for him to know.

  After leaving the fellowship hall, she pitched back into the activity of the sale. Despite concerted efforts to keep her mind occupied, the lake experience repeated over and over in her head. She had wanted to stay home today, but what she’d told Matt was true. Besides, she’d made a commitment to the pastor to head up this sale for him. Busy hands kept the terror buried.

  Lunchtime shoppers kept her occupied for the next hour. When the traffic slowed down, she collapsed in a chair, near the door, and slipped her shoes off under the table. Across the room, she spotted the red plaid material she’d seen earlier, sticking out from underneath layers of comforters and blankets. She slipped her shoes on and hurried to the display table, reached under the blankets and pulled out a sleeping bag. An exact replica of the one she remembered from the night Penny vanished.