“Probable cause, partner. The guy down the hall says she stole his car.”
“Sure, Zink. Sure. If you’re expecting us to find the car in the living room.”
“Besides, it’s the truth. I am worried about her. My radar’s going off again. Something isn’t right.”
“I agree, but I’m not sure it has anything to do with Emily Most.”
“Why would she and her kid disappear at the same time as Emily? Not a flair for home decor, considering the woman owns a flower shop,” Zink said. “No family pictures. Nothing homey here.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
“Almost as if she didn’t expect to be here all that long.”
Words defending Veronica jumped to his mind, but he kept them off his lips.
Zink was right, as much as he hated to admit it. He moved out into the kitchen. “This is odd.”
“What’s that?” Zink’s voice carried from the other room.
“Come and see.”
The refrigerator had been shoved away from the wall. A small door behind it hung open. He knelt down and peered inside. It was too dark to see anything.
“Did you move that?” Zink asked.
“Nope. It was already like that.” He pulled out his flashlight and peered into the tiny cubicle. “It’s empty.”
Zink’s fingers tapped against each other—a sure sign her mind was working overtime. “What do you think?”
“I’m thinking Veronica Minor had something important she needed to hide. Wonder what it was.” He dusted off his pants as he stood. Not that the floor was dirty. In fact, it was immaculate. He’d hate to see what the floor looked like behind his refrigerator. Probably time to clean it—one of these days. “Find anything else?”
“As a matter of fact, I did. Their luggage.”
“And…”
“And if she was going on a trip, why wouldn’t they pack clothes? Checked their drawers. It didn’t look as if anything was gone.”
“Maybe she kept extra suitcases in there.” He pointed at the cubicle.
“Yeah, maybe.” Zink shrugged. “And another thing. I went through her desk and couldn’t find an address book or a list of phone numbers. Nothing personal. Nothing that indicated she had plane reservations, either.”
“Maybe, she didn’t. Ricky said it was an emergency. So, maybe her plan was to go to the airport and fly standby.”
“With a child?”
“It’s possible.”
“It’s also possible she lied to Ricky.”
****
In the cruiser, Zink called the airport. It took three people, but she finally found the right person. After she hung up, she looked over at Conrad. “Security’s checking the lots for his car. So, what are you thinking?”
He slipped the key into the ignition. “If they find the car, then maybe she had a legitimate emergency like she told him, and it was simply a coincidence that it happened on the day Emily went missing. Not everything is part of a conspiracy, you know.”
“And if they don’t find his car?”
He started the car and put it into gear before answering. “Could be a problem for Veronica Minor. Either way, I think we should go back to the station and see what we can find out about her.”
13
Conrad walked into the station behind Zink. Other than the dispatcher, the place was empty. The others were probably out looking for Emily or running errands for the state police and the FBI.
Except for Nick Johns—he apparently was at home taking a nap. Conrad had no idea why Nick only worked part-time at his age. And he always seemed to have plenty of money
Something wrong with that scenario. Once this thing with Emily was resolved, he’d be having a talk with the chief if Zink didn’t.
The police station was housed in the small municipal building and shared space with the mayor’s office, the town council meeting room, and the town’s maintenance department.
With a population of less than five thousand, they had six full-time officers, including the chief of police, and four part-time. The department was more than adequate until a major catastrophe occurred, like Emily Most’s disappearance. The Sheriff’s Department and the state police were called in for extra help.
“If I were a bank robber, today would be the day to rob every bank and store in town,” Zink muttered.
“Isn’t that the truth?” Conrad agreed. “Maybe that’s what’s going on. Maybe, it’s an elaborate ruse to keep us busy while they rob the town blind.”
“I wish.” She sat at her desk and her fingers hit the keyboard. “OK, let’s see what we can find out about the pretty flower lady.”
“I’ll run an Internet search while you look at the official records.”
Zink’s phone rang. When she hung up, she winked at him. “Your girlfriend’s in the clear. Apparently. Mr. Ricky Snyder’s car is in the long-term parking lot waiting for him to come find it.” She held up her phone. “I’ll give him a call.”
Ignoring her girlfriend comment, Conrad scrolled through various articles about Veronica Minor, but none of them were about their Veronica.
Zink walked to her desk and sat.
He formed a steeple with his fingers and tapped them together.
A few minutes later Zink clicked her phone shut, laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Conrad lifted a coffee cup to his lips.
“Mr. Ricky Snyder wanted to know if I’d drive him to the airport to pick up his car. And when I told him I was a little busy hunting for Emily, he asked if I’d like to go out with him some time.”
He laughed. “You could do worse.”
“I have done worse. That’s why I’ve given up dating for the time being. Find anything interesting?”
“In a way.” He shook his head. “In fact, I’ve found nothing. For her, or the flower store. Seems odd that she wouldn’t at least have a web page for the business.”
“Very odd. Seems everybody has a web site these days.” She hit the keyboard. A moment later, she looked up. “No arrests or convictions. The only thing I found was her license application with the Ohio DMV, but she only got it three months ago.”
“That must have been about the time she moved to town.”
“You should know. You’re the one who’s been buying flowers every week. I don’t know why you don’t just ask her out and be done with it.”
“Contrary to what you believe, I am not on the prowl.” He was glad to know that his instincts about Veronica Minor were right.
She was exactly what she said—a widow struggling to raise her daughter alone.
“Interesting. She came in and took the complete test rather than transferring a license from another state. I wonder where she lived before.”
He shrugged. “The school should have a record of the daughter’s previous school, right? I’ll call. You keep digging.”
Zink stared at him with her perfectly arched eyebrows when he hung up. “Well?”
“Evidently, Jasmine was homeschooled and had no records.”
“Well, there should be some sort of records even if she was homeschooled.”
“Apparently not. You’d think so, but maybe some states are more relaxed about homeschooling records than Ohio. Go figure.”
She jumped up and marched towards the coffee pot. “Something’s wrong with this woman. She’s hiding something. I can feel it. My radar is shrieking at me.”
Conrad shook his head. “That is not necessarily true. There could be plenty of legitimate reasons why we can’t find any information on her.”
She walked back and handed him a cup of coffee. “And plenty of illegitimate reasons as well.”
“All I’m saying is ‘don’t jump to conclusions.’ I know—”
“Know what? You think a pretty woman can’t do something illegal?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, they can, but—”
“Things like this don’t happen in Sunberry, Conrad. This is crazy.” She slam
med the cup on her desk and turned to him. “What is really going on here? It feels like our little town’s falling apart.”
“Unfortunately, there’s a first time for everything, Zink. Forget about Veronica Minor for the moment. Let’s stay focused on Emily.”
Zink was getting herself worked up.
He’d seen it before. “It’s important not to jump to conclusions too soon. It only hampers an investigation.”
“That sounds like it came straight out of a textbook.” She glared at him, and then started pacing again. “What if Jasmine isn’t Veronica Minor’s daughter at all, and now she’s kidnapped a second girl. Emily might have been in the back of the flower shop the whole time we were there. Why didn’t we check?”
“Because she wasn’t a suspect then, and she’s still not.” His voice was firm. He’d been seeing Veronica Minor every week for the past few months at the flower shop. If she was a kidnapper, he’d have noticed something. She was a pretty woman who was fun to talk with, not a crazed kidnapper.
Zink ignored him. “And who knows? Maybe she only wants one daughter at a time and so it might be time to dump Jasmine. She might be in as much danger as Emily.” She stopped pacing and set her coffee down on his desk. “I’m calling the chief.”
Conrad stared at her and shook his head. “You jumped to a conclusion.”
14
In spite of Layla’s guilt trip, Maria drove towards Florida, sure she was doing the right thing. And what about Emily? The words resonated from somewhere in her spirit.
She did her best to ignore them. When it didn’t work, she turned the radio up louder. She sang along, pretending this was a carefree road trip—not an escape.
Layla didn’t sing along.
Exhaustion sneaked up on Maria once again, much sooner than expected. When her eyes drooped closed, she knew it was time to pull over and get a hotel room even though it was early. Falling asleep at the wheel wasn’t something she wanted to risk.
They hadn’t made good time, but at least they were farther away from Sunberry—and from Raymond.
She paid with cash and registered under one of her old aliases that she’d kept in her escape bag along with her real documents.
“Let’s go swimming, Layla.”
“I don’t want to.” Her daughter’s tone was truculent.
“But you love to swim. It’s why I picked this hotel. So you could go swimming in the indoor pool. We’ll go buy a bathing—”
Her daughter shook her head, tears pooling in her brown eyes. “No, Mommy. I don’t want to go swimming. I want to go home and tell the police about the bad men. I want them to find Emily.”
“Layla, the police are doing everything they can to find Emily. That’s their job, and I’m sure they’ll find her soon.”
“But what about the rule, Mommy?”
Maria shook her head, knowing she didn’t want to hear whatever Layla was about to say.
Layla persisted. “I thought the rule was we always help people if we can. I think we need to help Emily.”
Her daughter stared up at her with trusting brown eyes, waiting for an answer.
****
Conrad stepped off the elevator and walked towards Ricky Snyder’s apartment once again. The door opened. Ricky had obviously been watching for him.
Ricky stepped out of his apartment. His mouth formed a perfect O. Guess he hadn’t been looking for Conrad. He’d been leaving, even after he’d called. “Going somewhere, Ricky?”
“Uh…yeah…I got me an appointment. I told the cop on the phone that.”
“You called twenty minutes ago. I came as soon as you called.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you come?”
“Because you called us and said you found something that might be important, so I came.”
“I know that, but the other officer already came.”
A knot formed in Conrad’s stomach. “Who are you talking about?”
“He just left a few minutes ago. That’s why I was leaving.”
The knot tightened. “Tell me what happened.” He hadn’t told anyone else about Ricky’s call, and no other officer should have showed up.
“I heard knocking and opened my door, but the man was knocking on her door.” Ricky pointed at Veronica Minor’s door. “I asked him if he was the cop you sent to talk with me and he said yes.”
“Did he show you some identification—like maybe a badge?”
“No, he must have been a detective ‘cause he wasn’t wearing a uniform.”
“We don’t have any detectives in Sunberry, Ricky.” It took all his patience not to add the word moron.
“Oh. Maybe, he was from the Sheriff’s office.”
“No detectives there, either. Never mind. What did you tell him?”
“I found a piece a paper in the car. It was from a car rental agency. I thought it was strange because I thought she was flying somewhere, but she rented a car at the airport. Wonder why she would do that?”
Strange indeed.
“What was the name of the rental agency?”
He shrugged. “It was on the paper. I don’t remember.”
Of course he didn’t remember.
“Where’s the slip?”
“The other guy took it.”
Of course, he did.
“But it wasn’t Veronica’s name on the paper, anyway. That’s why I thought it might be important. Maybe someone else is with her. You know—like an accomplice.”
That was interesting. “What was the name?”
Ricky’s eyes widened, reminding him of a deer caught in the headlights. “Can’t remember.”
Conrad was losing his patience with this kid. “Look, Ricky. I’m not playing around here. You need to remember the name. It could be important. Lives could depend on it. Otherwise I might take you down to the station until you do remember.”
Perspiration popped out on Ricky’s forehead. “Oh, don’t do that. I got places to go. Let me think a minute. It was…it started with an R.”
“Rachel?”
He shook his head.
“Rayene? Rickie? Rona?”
“Ooh. Something like Rona.” He snapped his fingers. “Ramona. That’s it—Ramona Dye.”
“Are you sure?” Who was Ramona Dye?
“Yep, I can see it clear as day.”
As if he could see anything clear as day.
“What did this guy look like?”
“He was taller than me, dark complexion, but not African-American. Maybe Hispanic. He had an accent, but it didn’t sound like Hispanic. His hair was black. Dressed nice.”
Conrad’s knotted stomach churned. It was the perfect description of the man from The Bouquet. He pulled out his cell phone and flipped through the pictures Zink had emailed to him.
He held it up to Ricky. “Is this the guy?”
“Yeah, that’s him. Who is he?”
“Not a detective, that’s for sure.”
Zink’s radar was right. Veronica Minor was involved.
15
“You are not going to believe this.” Zink said the moment Conrad walked back into the station.
“Probably not, but try me.” He stretched and tried to stifle a yawn. He failed. The caffeine was wearing off. He needed to get some sleep or he wouldn’t be able to function.
“Ramona Dye and Veronica Minor are the same person. Ramona’s Utah driver’s license pic confirms it. Both came up with no known information under the criminal database.” She looked at him with triumph in her eyes.
“Go ahead and say it.”
“Say what?”
“That you were right and I was wrong. Something isn’t right about the pretty flower lady.”
“I would never gloat. At least, not much. Besides, we don’t really know anything for sure yet. But something’s going on. What else did you find out from Ricky?”
“That David Hamm was at Veronica’s apartment.” He went on to explain the m
ix-up.
“Mmm. Interesting. We know he didn’t arrive until this morning, or at least that’s when he rented the car. So the question is what’s he got to do with all this?”
“I can’t believe Veronica kidnapped Emily.”
“You need to start thinking like a cop not a love-sick teenager. It’s been a while since you’ve been in a relationship. Maybe you should get—”
“Don’t go there, Zink.”
She grinned. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot you’re an unmarried Christian and that means celibacy. Right?”
“My sex life, or lack thereof, is not up for discussion. The question is, who is Veronica Minor slash Ramona Dye or whatever name she’s going by now, and did she have something to do with Emily’s kidnapping. And why is David Hamm looking for her?”
“That’s the question.”
“So…what’s the answer?”
Zink clicked her nails on the desk for several moments, and then looked up at him. “Maybe Veronica and David are a different story altogether. Maybe they don’t have anything to do with Emily.”
He forced his voice to be patient. “But it was your theory, Zink. Remember?”
“I know it was, but Jasmine seemed to be such a great kid. Bright and sweet. Kidnapped kids…” her voice trailed off.
He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Your radar must be on the fritz. Better call the repairman.”
“I wonder how he just happened to show up at her apartment today of all days? And why did he lie to you and say he was from Circleville? Explain that to me.”
He shrugged. “I can’t. Why don’t you see if you can find out anything about him? You’ve got his home address. See if you can find a home number and call him. Maybe check out the local hotels and see if he’s staying in one.”
She nodded and went to her desk.
Conrad went to his own computer and began cold calling every car rental place in or near the Columbus airport. On the sixth call, he found the right place. When he finished, he looked over at Zink. “Good news and bad.”
“Of course. Nothing’s ever easy.”
“The good news is she definitely rented a car. Bad news, no GPS or TrackTime.”
“Then, it doesn’t do us a whole lot of good.”
“What did you find out about David Hamm?”
“Not much. No home phone, and according to Mapfind that address doesn’t exist. And none of the hotels I’ve called so far have him registered.”
Sisters By Choice Page 25