Lullaby for the Nameless (Nolan, Hart & Tain Thrillers)

by Ruttan, Sandra

  It seemed Nolan was being groomed for leadership. The older officers appeared indifferent to that fact, while Tain made no effort to conceal his contempt for the constable.

  Oliver entered the room, walked over to the urn and poured himself a cup of coffee. As he turned he took a sip, his face scrunched into a look of disgust and he spit the liquid on the floor.

  “Tastes like lukewarm piss,” he said.

  “Time for the little lady to prove herself useful. Make them some coffee.”

  The all-too-familiar voice came from behind her, to her right side. She turned and glanced at Tain as he leaned back against the wall on the other side of the door, then realized it was a mistake.

  She’d acknowledged the comment was meant for her.

  The three older men didn’t seem to know whether they were supposed to laugh at Tain or lecture him. Oliver turned and set his cup down, his face a crimson shade. Campbell and Aiken glanced at Sullivan, who’d turned to stare at Tain.

  Nolan walked to the front of the room.

  “Hart’s been doing an excellent job—”

  “On clerical duty.”

  Tain’s voice again, eliciting a snort from Aiken that was quickly stifled when he looked up to see the sergeant glaring at him.

  “She follows orders, which is more than I can say for you.” Nolan didn’t give Tain a chance to respond. “Hart’s followed up on all the calls that have come in. Unfortunately, we don’t have many leads to work with, and I’ve done the follow-up with the legitimate tips that did come in. We’ve hit a roadblock. There are a few other potential witnesses we can track down, but we’re talking about people who may or may not have seen someone who looked like one of our victims months ago. Memories are hazy, and the information is getting thin, but we have two witnesses who believe they saw Kacey Young getting into a semi at a truck stop just outside Osoyoos around the time she was reported missing.”

  Ashlyn sat up in her chair. A trucker would make sense. It explained the size of the region the girls had disappeared from. Truckers knew the roads, knew the areas, and their presence didn’t automatically arouse suspicions. It was a promising lead.

  “Hitches a lift with a trucker eighteen, nineteen months ago,” Campbell said. “That’s a whole lot of help.”

  “It’s a place to start,” Nolan said.

  “Thousands of hitchhikers get in semis every year. She could be on the other side of the country. It’s a waste of time.”

  “This is what we do, Campbell. We follow the leads we have until we either exhaust them or turn up some useful information.”

  Campbell shook his head. “What you’ve got is nothing. It’s a dead end.”

  “No. It’s a beginning.” Ashlyn had surprised herself by saying the words out loud, and apparently everyone else in the room had been caught off guard as well. They were all looking at her, so she tried to explain.

  “There would be shipping records, weight scale information from the highways. If we can get someone out to the truck stop and talk to other truckers we might find some guys who work regular routes in the area.”

  “Which would tell us what?” Campbell said. “Who delivers produce and who’s hauling livestock? We’ve got no probable cause. You can’t send us out there to start questioning truckers and requesting shipping manifests without a damn good reason.”

  “Actually, in the wake of 9-11, you’d be amazed at what we can do without a warrant,” Ashlyn said. “The proximity to the border—”

  Campbell jumped out of his chair. “You’ve got no idea what you’re dealing with here.”

  “Then why don’t you enlighten me?” she snapped back, sick of Campbell’s attitude and unable to conceal her frustration.

  Campbell looked at Sullivan, and some of the color drained out of his face. His breathing steadied, and he sat back down. “Look, so what if one of them got a ride near here a few months ago? It makes sense since they all went missing from this area. There’s nothing suspicious about that.”

  “Except the fact that the trucker hasn’t come forward,” Ashlyn said. “I’d like to know why.”

  “Then you follow up on it. I’m sure if you could find some tight jeans and park yourself outside a truck stop you’ll have no problem getting the guys to talk to you.” Campbell almost smiled. “They’ll probably tell you anything you want to hear.”

  “You know what, Campbell? I think she’s got a point,” Tain said.

  “Oh, well, aren’t you suddenly the knight in shining armor.” Campbell’s sneer didn’t fade when he looked at Ashlyn. “Don’t worry, hon, it’s not all about you. Tain’s got a hard-on for a couple of local punks he hasn’t been able to bust, and since they work for a shipping company, I’m sure he figures this is a good chance to try to find something he can use on them. Isn’t it, Tain? Only problem is, you tried that already, and you came up empty-handed because there’s nothing to find.”

  “Yeah? Maybe I came up empty-handed because you shot off your mouth.”

  Campbell was on his feet, quickly followed by Sullivan, Aiken and Oliver. The accusations and insults were lost in the chorus of shouting, and Ashlyn looked at Nolan, who’d stayed out of it.

  Sullivan’s voice rose above the others. “That’s enough! Sit down, now.”

  Tain slithered back to his spot against the wall, and the others found their seats. Campbell’s face was as red as a ripe tomato.

  “Look, this is a tough investigation. We don’t have the resources city departments have, and we don’t have enough manpower,” Sullivan said. “I understand that everyone’s tired and we’d all like to see some progress, but we can’t start pointing fingers at one another, especially without facts.”

  The speech was followed by silence, but Ashlyn noted that the color didn’t fade from Campbell’s face. He also hadn’t looked up since he’d been ordered back to his chair.

  “You don’t actually think it’s somebody local who’s killing these girls, do you?” Oliver said. “Those of us who’ve worked here for a while, who’ve put down roots, we know these people. Sure, you’ve got your drunks, you’ve got your bullies who use their wives as punching bags, and there’s the odd bit of petty theft, occasional drug use, but most people in this town are good folks.”

  “We have to look at every possibility,” Sullivan said. “Until we’ve made an arrest, that means chasing down every possible lead. Okay, before we get to assignments, anybody have anything else?”

  “Actually, I have something I want to chase down,” Ashlyn said.

  “Oh really? What’s that?” Tain asked.

  Ashlyn ignored him and kept her focus on the men at the front of the room. “It might be nothing, but we had a call about the body in the fire. I have reason to believe she could be one of our missing girls.”

  “You mean the body found at Blind Creek Inn? We don’t have an ID yet that I’m aware of, and there’s been nothing to tie that victim to our investigation,” Sullivan said. “What have you got that suggests a connection?”

  “Women’s intuition,” Tain muttered, but not softly enough to prevent her from hearing.

  Ashlyn held up the slip of paper in her right hand. “A tip that says it was one of our girls.”

  “Credible?” Nolan asked.

  She nodded. “I think so. At least worth following up on.” She almost held her breath. Sullivan had every right to pass the tip over to Tain, and she knew it.

  “Which victim?”

  Tain’s voice cut through, but his tone had changed. The attitude and arrogance were gone, replaced by something bordering on concern. There was a look in his eyes, as though he was going back over some information in his mind, trying to piece something together.

  “Jenny Johnson.”

  “Okay, Hart. You and Nolan can track it down.”

  “Sir—” Tain said. Sullivan cut him off.

  “Tain, you have other things to deal with, and I told you before, it’s the team’s case. Not just yours.” The sergeant
glared at him for a moment, then turned back to Hart. “Let Tain know if it’s credible. We can’t afford to ignore anything that hasn’t been called in by a crazy. Oliver can start tracking down shipping records and weight scale information,” Sullivan said. “Campbell, you and Aiken will deal with the truck stop.”

  “Hang on. They found three bodies in Surrey this week, all young girls who’d been sexually assaulted. Each one had been stabbed through the chest,” Campbell said. “Why aren’t we looking to see if there’s a connection?”

  “Were the girls held? Were they impregnated?” Tain asked. “Dressed in an old-fashioned white gown, partially wrapped in plastic and frozen before their body was disposed of?”

  “Maybe they were,” Campbell said. “It’s not like we’re releasing all the details.”

  He had a point, acknowledged by the fact that not even Tain challenged him. Ashlyn watched Tain lean back against the wall again, fold his arms and give the slightest shake of his head.

  She looked at Sullivan.

  “We’ll be following up on that investigation, to see if there’s a connection. Campbell, you and Aiken start coordinating with Surrey, but if it turns out to be a dead end, I want you to follow up with Nolan’s lead right away. And, Campbell, that’s an order. Understood?”

  Campbell glared at Nolan as he swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

  Ashlyn stood, aware of Tain watching her with a solemn gaze. She wasn’t sure if he intended to intercept her, but she hoped she could exit the room quickly and avoid any other confrontations.

  “Hart?” Sullivan gestured to her and pointed at Nolan as he walked toward the front of the room. When he passed Tain he said, “I would have thought this would make you happy.” Tain only glared at Ashlyn and Nolan before marching out of the room.

  Sullivan shook his head. When he reached Ashlyn and Nolan he started to talk about her valuable contributions and that he hoped she felt settled and like part of the team. Placating her because of Campbell’s comments, compounded by Tain’s sexist jabs and his own inability to quash them or discipline his men. That’s what she suspected. The fact that Sullivan hadn’t even tried to give Tain instructions hadn’t gone unnoticed.

  Whatever Tain was working on, it trumped the body from the fire, and it seemed he was getting his instructions privately.

  A voice from the back of the room cut through her thoughts.

  “Sergeant Sullivan? There’s a man here to see you and Constable Nolan.” Ashlyn turned to see the same uniformed officer who had escorted her and Nolan through the woods only a few days earlier, the one Nolan called Getz.

  Sullivan muttered an apology as he marched from the room, Nolan right behind him. Ashlyn let out a breath.

  It only took a moment for her to get back to her desk. She folded the slip of paper with Mrs. Wilson’s information on it and stuck it in her pocket and took a look at the new messages that had come in, skimming them one by one.

  Mrs. Wilson hadn’t called back, but as she flipped to the last message in the new stack she saw that Mrs. Bird had. Mrs. Bird had even conveyed her address, which had been written down on the slip of paper.

  If Ashlyn waited, she’d be having her second conversation with Mrs. Bird in a matter of minutes, while Nolan left her behind. She grabbed her coat and made a decision, but she was too late. As she turned around and looked up, she saw Nolan walking toward her.

  “Thanks for backing me up on the tip about the trucker,” he said.

  “Sure.” She resisted the urge to add that she’d just been doing her job. “Did…whoever it was have something for you?”

  “Oh, not really.” Nolan waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing pressing anyway. You know, it’s a shame you got transferred in just as this case exploded. There really hasn’t been a chance to show you around.” He sat down on the edge of his desk. “We’ll have to find some time to do that.”

  “That would be good.”

  Nolan had a charming smile, an intensity in his eyes that hadn’t gone unnoticed but had been overshadowed by his attitude. He was also smart and calculated, and there was no doubt in her mind that his decision to sit instead of looking down at her was part of his new strategy. She had information he wanted, and he knew that trying to finesse it out of her by making her feel like part of the team, like she was working with him instead of for him, was best.

  With Sullivan under pressure for results and Tain looking for any way to upstage Nolan, she guessed Nolan felt he needed to keep Ashlyn happy and cooperative. He had his hands full and didn’t need any more problems.

  Ashlyn knew what he was doing, but she found herself fighting the urge to talk to him about the case. The naïve side of her clung to the idea that if she could just get him to see her as an asset instead of a liability, he’d work with her willingly.

  “Campbell’s a bit of a loose cannon,” she said.

  “It’s his job to coordinate with tribal police, and in the past year reports of criminal activity on the Reserves have nearly doubled. There have been several murders, and Washington State Police have been calling, trying to get us to work with them to crack down on cross-border smuggling. Everything from cheap cigarettes to pure cocaine is finding its way back and forth, and most of it that’s headed our way ends up on Native lands. That’s what Campbell was dealing with when they threw the task force together.”

  “Shouldn’t he be happy to have a chance to look at shipping information then?”

  “He’s not too happy about a rookie officer making him look inept.”

  Ashlyn flushed. “That wasn’t what I was trying to do.”

  Nolan waved his hand. “I know. Don’t worry about it.” He smiled. “So, what’s this lead?”

  “I—” She paused, forced a smile of her own. “I know you’re busy and have so many things to follow up on. I can handle it for you.”

  Nolan lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Nobody’s disputing that, but I need you to look after something else for me.”

  “The sergeant said—”

  “Divide and conquer.” He smiled. “It’s not like we’ve got a first-class team to rely on, filled with the best and brightest. Tain’s a bit of an ass, Oliver and Aiken have focused on community policing and an investigation like this is new terrain for them. Campbell’s taking it personally. I need someone here who I know will get the job done.”

  She knew where this was going. “And that’s me?”

  “Look, I admit I was a bit of a jerk when you started. It’s only been a few days, but I know I can count on you. You’re catching on quick. There’s no doubt in my mind that you were given this assignment because you could measure up, and that’s exactly why I need you here. You understand, right?”

  “Sure.” Baiting her with false praise. “You want me to keep chasing down the calls that have come through.”

  “Exactly. There have to be some flakes of gold amidst the dross, and you’re the only person I can think of who will be thorough enough to find them.”

  She forced a smile. Let him believe she took his crap seriously.

  “So, where’s the message?”

  Ashlyn had a half second to think about what she was about to do as she grabbed her pen, scribbled an address on the slip of paper in front of her and passed it to Nolan.

  “Thanks, Hart. Oh, and good work.”

  She dug her nails into her palms as he turned and walked away.

  The car crawled along as she swerved to avoid potholes and braked for the dip. Part of the road had no shoulder, and it was barely wide enough for two vehicles, which she found out when an oncoming truck clipped her mirror.

  She glanced at the slip of paper she’d taped to the dash. It was the right road, but she hadn’t passed a house for at least a mile. As far as she could tell, Mrs. Wilson’s place was the last on the road. Ahead, she could see a small truck had pulled over to the practically non-existent shoulder, but she couldn’t see a driver in it, and there weren’t any brake lights on.

 
; To her right, the foliage gave way to a dirt driveway, marked by a faded mailbox leaning at an awkward angle. The W, I and S were most clearly visible, with the stem of the N and half of the O just barely legible.

  She turned down the driveway, and the curtain of leaves that had blocked the property from view from the road gave way to a small yard that led up to a sagging bungalow. Ashlyn parked her car and got out.

  The steps moaned as she walked up to the porch and knocked on the door. After a moment she knocked again.

  “Mrs. Wilson? It’s Constable Hart from the RCMP.”

  A call answered with silence. Ashlyn knocked again, then checked the address on the slip of paper she’d pulled from her pocket, although she didn’t need to. It was the right house.

  She took a step back from the door and turned around.

  There was a stillness to the house that told her it was empty. For a moment she tapped the slip of paper and considered her options.

  Hurry back to the station and hope Nolan didn’t find out she’d left? Play dumb when he asked about the information she’d given him? Ashlyn wondered if she could lie that convincingly.

  The other obvious choice was to wait and hope that Mrs. Wilson returned before Nolan figured out the information she’d given him was wrong and figured out where she really went. There were call records. And there were files of slips. He’d have to spend the time cross-referencing them, but it wouldn’t take long before he found the number that was missing and traced it.

  Nolan may not like chasing paperwork in the office, but he was smart, and Ashlyn was sure he was capable.

  Especially if he was motivated, a fact proven by how he responded when goaded by Tain.

  The steps groaned as she walked down them and stuck the slip of paper in her pocket. From the front of the house, she had a clear view of the mountain slope where they’d recovered Mary Donard’s body. A sea of green was all that was really visible between the road and the tree line of the mountain, but although Ashlyn hadn’t had much time out of the office to orient herself, she was confident she knew approximately where they’d found their first official victim.