Marvin Hennessey looked in the direction where George was pointing and responded, “Yep, that’s him. Looks like he’s getting ready to leave on another trip.”
“Do you want to talk to him now?”
Chief hesitated before answering, “No, let’s get to Claire first. I want to see if she can shine any light on this mystery before we talk to him. And,” he added, “I don’t want to give him any reasons to think we suspect him of anything at this point.”
George nodded in agreement, “You’ve got the picture. She might recognize him from that, but she didn’t do the interviewing of the husband so she might not remember what he looks like.”
He continued, “After Brad questioned him, we all had some nagging doubts but couldn’t find any evidence linking him to the crime. So, we left it at that and eventually filed it under cold cases. Claire might have gone back to the files and revisited it, but I’m not sure. If she did, and she knew this guy, undoubtedly she would have said something.”
Marvin interrupted, “She might have been struck by his description same as I was and not paid much attention to the picture. After all, it’s not very clear…he has a cap on and you can’t make out his features very clearly.”
“What are you talking about, Chief? What struck you about his description? Why wouldn’t she have paid attention to the picture?”
He thought about his impressions before explaining, “This guy seems so much like anyone else of that age and background…weight, height, both average, no identifying marks like tattoos or scars, nothing out of the ordinary. When reading the file today, I even gave him a name that typifies someone with features like his.”
George gave him a questioning look, “What name?”
“Everyman. His looks do not stand out and that is why he worries me.”
“What does that mean?”
Marvin paused before answering, “I mean that Trent Newman could very well be a more complicated individual than we had previously thought.”
“In what ways?”
“In lots of ways, George, but specifically I’m concerned that Trent Newman might have the capability to be more than one person…and that’s why I want to delve into his past a little more before I send up any red flags that he might detect.”
“So, you think he might have been involved with Libby Newman’s disappearance?”
Marvin shook his head affirmatively.
“And you think he might have committed other crimes that we need to investigate, like what happened to this supposed first wife?”
Again, Chief Hennessey agreed.
“And,” George continued, “You think he might have had the capability to disguise his identity?”
“All of us have that capability, George, but an ‘everyman’ can pull it off better than anyone else.”
Both men stood outside the trucking company office, pondering this possibility until the noonday sun burned their faces a beet-red color.
The ramifications of their thoughts hung like the heavy dust particles kicked up by the traffic in and around the parking lot, suspended in the heat, only moving when a quick sharp breeze left them fluttering. But when the wind died down, the particles would still be there…and so would the implications of what an ‘everyman’ can do.
Chapter Nineteen
“Oh, my God,” Claire gasped as she noticed the broken window in the back door. She turned to see if Jim was watching. He had his head down and seemed to be oblivious to her activities.
She quickly ran up the stairs and looked around her living room, kitchen and dining room.
In complete disarray, her house showed the typical signs of a break-in. Mail and other paperwork to be completed ordinarily lay on the dining room table waiting for attention. Now they were strewn about the floor like the aftermath confetti from a parade.
Kitchen drawers were open and some utensils and silverware were heaped in scattered piles on countertops.
From her vantage point in the middle of the great room combination, she noticed that the drawers in the two living room end tables had been left open and dangled precariously close to dropping on the carpet.
Her organized streak almost took over as she thought about placing the drawers back into their slots, but then, her detective skills assumed responsibility as she reasoned that she didn’t need to disturb any of the ‘crime scene’.
Quickly moving down the hall, she looked in all three bedrooms and noted that they too had been violated.
At least those are the words she chose to use for the unwanted intrusion into her personal belongings. Now I know what it feels like to be robbed, she mused.
Quietly, but alarmingly, another troubling thought entered her mind, the blood! I wonder if it’s still there. She reversed her pattern of movement and headed back towards the kitchen.
Opening the freezer door, she was met with confirmation of her anxiety—the bag with the blood and snow in it was gone!
Now what am I going to do?
She sat down at the kitchen table and put her hands under her chin, trying to settle her mind and concentrate on a plan.
I need to report it but I also want to see this psychic and find out what she can tell us.
She put her head down on the table when she realized, I have nothing to show her now! What can we do?
Her head shot up at the thought, and the realization that followed, Jim’s waiting in the car and is probably wondering what is taking me so long!
She steadied herself, and after a few seconds, decided to see the psychic first before telling Jim about the break-in.
If he asks, I’ll have to tell him. Then, when we arrive at Lynn’s house, if she asks, I’ll just explain what happened and trust that she can help us.
I hope she’s as good as Jim says she is, because with no item to show, we’ll be challenging her abilities to their limits!
Claire rushed down the stairs and out to the waiting car, still formulating how she would tell Jim about this latest mishap.
* * * * *
Claire jumped in the car and put it in reverse, her concentration on driving. All the while Jim eyed her warily, waiting for a response.
“Uh, Claire, I noticed you didn’t bring anything with you when you came out of your house.” He paused, watching her face for an answer. When she remained quiet, he asked, “You did get it, right?”
She looked over at him guiltily and mouthed the word ‘no’.
He sat up straighter and winced in response to the sudden movement, “What do you mean ‘no’? Why not?” His voice trailed off at the end of the question as another sharp twinge hit his cracked ribs.
Claire glanced over at him with concern written all over her face, “Are you sure you’re okay? I can see your injuries are really bothering you. Do you want to go through with this?”
Jim saw right through her attempt to divert the conversation, gritted his teeth more out of frustration and worry than pain, and asked, “What’s wrong, Claire? Why didn’t you bring the bag?”
Carefully and nervously she studied him before offering an answer, “Well…it…it wasn’t there.”
He looked at her incredulously, “It wasn’t there! What happened to it?”
Sighing, Claire replied, “My house was ransacked, okay. Someone took it.”
Jim started to speak but she put up her hand and said, “Look, I know I should have called you to come in and see it but we need to get some answers from Lynn. Let’s worry about this later. We need to see if she can help us.”
Claire continued, “I’m banking on her being able to pick up on something without having an item belonging to Libby. At least, that’s what I’m hoping for,” her voice grew quieter with this last pronouncement.
Jim sat in silence for what seemed an eternity before calmly responding, “Okay, but promise me one thing.”
“What’s that, Jim?”
He reached up and stroked the side of her face, “Promise me that if Lynn gives us a name or description, you�
�ll not go by yourself to find the perp.”
Claire reached up and took his hand from her face, kissing it before she laid it down on the seat between them. She looked over at him and said, “Not without you, Jim. Not without you.”
She smiled and added, “I have a funny feeling that’s a ‘given’ from now on.”
* * * * *
Dust kicked up clouds, obscuring the tiny office and parking lot for a few seconds. When it cleared, a truck was seen speeding away from what was now a vacant lot. No other trucks dotted the landscape, with their engines running, awaiting their drivers to take them to various destinations.
It was early afternoon and few if any drivers would have been stopping in for a run. Most of them would have already been out on the road, delivering their goods, anticipating how long it would take them to complete their assignments and get back home for a few days’ rest.
Only the trucker who was the last to leave would have known the truth of what happened at Landry Trucking that afternoon, and if asked, he would claim ignorance about the facts of what happened there, and deny even being present at that time of the day.
Inside the building all was quiet; it looked vacant to the casual observer, but on closer inspection, someone looking through the window would have wondered why no one was inside.
That person might have checked the window to ensure that the “Open” sign was displayed, and once he was reassured that it was still up, he would make his way into the office and take care of whatever business he had.
But if the sign posted read “Closed”, like it did now, he would have scratched his head and made his way back to his car, disappointed and maybe a little upset that he was unable to complete his purpose for coming here in the first place.
He might have turned around and headed back to the door to try the lock. Possibly it would have been open; if not, he would surely try calling on his cell phone, on the off chance that someone might have been in there.
And, if that was true, someone might have been able to help him before he left, even though that person could have had a very good reason for placing the “Closed” sign on the window.
Maybe there was a sole occupant and he/she needed to go to the bathroom and didn’t want someone entering the building until the nature call was completed.
Perhaps inventory was taking place, but if that was true, an explanation should have been displayed on the sign.
Or, maybe the office was just ‘closed’.
But if so, why? It was the middle of the week, the middle of the day, and it should have been business as usual.
All of this could have happened…but it didn’t.
It was a slow day; the trucks that were assigned were gone; drivers were home or on a trip; no one stopped by for the rest of the day.
But there was somebody in the office, and it would have been hard to see the person if you had just peered in the window.
Why? Was the person hiding? Trying to complete work without interruption?
The answer would not have been crystal clear until later that night, after people were at home, the workday was done, and a wife sat by the phone, looked out the window, and wondered why her husband hadn’t called or arrived home with an explanation as to why he was so late.
* * * * *
George and Marvin sat side-by-side, staring intently at the computer screen. Both were reading the information regarding Trent Newman’s background. It was in the summary of the interview given to the officer at the time of the investigation.
Sitting on Marvin’s lap was the folder with the facts taken from Mr. Newman’s resume that Landry Trucking had provided.
Confused, George frowned and made an observation, “It doesn’t give us much detail, Marvin.”
“Yeah,” hesitating before he responded, “it looks like he was being very careful not to give too much information about his past.”
“You’d almost think this guy didn’t exist until less than ten years ago!”
Chief Hennessey continued to read, “True, everything in here relates to work history; nothing about his personal life, no mention of another wife.”
He glanced at George, “Very strange…it appears that Trent Newman had some things he wanted to hide.”
“We do have fingerprints. Did we ever run them through the national database?”
Marvin scrolled up through the rest of the investigation summary and read, “No physical evidence from the scene other than the shoe prints. The decision was made not to run the prints through the data base since Mr. Newman was ruled out as a suspect in his wife’s disappearance.”
“Well that answers the question. I guess they checked out his alibi and were sufficiently assured that he was where he said he was and had nothing to do with his wife’s disappearance…or decided that a crime hadn’t even been committed.”
George Stanley leaned back in his chair, locked his hands behind his neck, and gazed up at the ceiling. “But what if he could be implicated in other crimes?”
He stared thoughtfully at Marvin. “Suppose he does have something to hide? The report says that he was very reluctant to give us any prints or even a picture of himself. When prodded and threatened with a subpoena, he finally provided a photograph and had his fingerprints taken, but he didn’t like it.”
George continued, “In the summary it says that he asked a lot of questions about why we needed them and how they were to be used.”
“I know. That bothered me,” Chief Hennessey replied, “but I made the decision to accept what he offered because I really wasn’t convinced that any harm had come to his wife. At the time it looked like she had just up and left…decided she wanted a better life somewhere else.”
He decided, “I guess I made some conclusions that I shouldn’t have. I thought maybe she didn’t want to be found.”
George replied, “Look, you didn’t know, Chief, and any one of us has made decisions that we might regret later, but we do what we have to do at the time.”
“True…but that’s not helping us now.”
He sighed and added, “Let’s run those prints through the database and see what we get.”
Chapter Twenty
“Thank God, you’re here,” a frazzled woman opened the door to Claire and Jim standing on her front porch. “Please come in,” she continued. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I get a little impatient when I have so much to tell someone.”
Claire glanced at Jim and raised her eyebrows.
“You must think I’m just a crazy old woman.” She extended her hand to Claire and said, “Lynn Brookmeier, and you must be Claire?”
Shaking hands, “Yes, and I’m pleased to meet you and thank you for allowing us to come today.” Claire tried to smile but felt a certain sense of uneasiness.
“Don’t worry about me,” Lynn answered, “Jim can tell you that I can get flustered, especially if I’ve received some information from the spirit world and they want me to give it to you as soon as possible.”
Claire looked at Jim and said, “Oh…Uh, I guess that means we should get started.”
Motioning for them to come into the house, “There’s certainly enough time for me to show some politeness instead of any rudeness I’m unintentionally sending your way.”
Lynn indicated the couch in the living room for Jim and Claire. She herself took the large, overstuffed recliner facing the two of them.
Both of them perched precariously on the couch, not sliding back into the softness of the cushions, but choosing instead to remain forward in anticipation of what Lynn might tell them.
Lynn sat still with her eyes closed. For several seconds Claire and Jim waited for a comment. When it seemed as if she was not going to speak, she simultaneously sat up, pushed the footstool back in, and stared at both of them before beginning. “I have never had such a sleepless night as I did last night.”
She closed her eyes again and breathed in and out as if to steady herself before continuing, “A young woman came to me in my dream
s. She…she didn’t talk…only gestured. She showed me pictures and tried to make me understand what she was communicating.”
Jim interrupted, “What kind of communication was she using?”
Lynn sat quietly, eyes still closed, and finally responded, “I only know the alphabet but it looked like sign language to me.”
Claire gasped and put her hand up to her mouth.
Lynn opened her eyes and stared at her for the longest time, “So, she is deaf.”
Claire nodded and Lynn continued. “She spelled out her name and it was…let me see if I can do this.” She then began to make movements with her fingers…L…i…b…b…y. “I looked it up in a sign language book I have and it spells Libby.”
Again Claire gasped.
Jim sat in silence watching the interplay between the two women with growing interest, but indicated with a nod of his head that this was correct.
“She really seemed anxious for me to share this with you,” Lynn explained before continuing, “She showed me a place. It was very isolated but I feel like it’s not too far from here.”
“Can you describe it to us?” Claire leaned even further forward.
“It is outdoors, trees all around, with a body of water.” Lynn elaborated, with eyes closed, “There is a small boat…maybe a rowboat or canoe…Wait…Yes, a canoe… next to a dock.”
Claire glanced over at Jim but he didn’t notice because he was staring intently at Lynn.
“She kept pointing to the trees…”
Claire broke in, “Did she give you a name for this place?”
Lynn thought for a few seconds and shook her head, “No, she didn’t give me a name, but the trees might be a clue.”
“What do you mean?”
“The trees…they were mostly pine trees.”
Claire and Jim looked at each other knowingly before motioning for Lynn to continue.
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