Toni looked at him. “Trent looks mad.”
“As expected.”
She dabbed a tissue at her eyes.
She’d been crying. Clay wasn’t surprised, but it hurt to see. He hated when any woman was in distress, but seeing Toni, usually so strong, distressed enough to cry? That was an extra punch to the gut. But this wasn’t about him at all. It was about her and the personal connection to this creep that had to be shredding her insides.
She angled to face him, mascara smeared below her eyes. “Do we have to tell Trent about the picture and my outfit?”
“Those items won’t mean anything without an explanation, and it could be the information he needs to find Rader’s killer.”
“Still…” Her words fell off with a choking sob.
“Aw, Toni. Don’t cry.” He took her hand and held it tightly. He wanted to do more. To get out, pull her from the vehicle, and give her a proper hug. But that would be too much for a crime scene with law enforcement present. “It’ll be all right. I promise.”
“How can you promise?” She pulled her hand free and retrieved a fresh tissue from her purse. “I hate crying like a helpless victim.”
“You’re far from helpless, but you are a victim. And it has to be horrible to see a man we think was trafficking girls in possession of something so personal.”
“That’s the thing, though.” She patted her eyes. “I don’t even remember the clothes. Not at all.”
“How old were you?”
“My dad said I was eleven, so I feel like I should remember.”
“You wouldn’t remember every outfit, right?”
“No, but my mom is dressed up, so it seems like a special day. Shouldn’t I remember something like that? Especially since it was just before she died.”
“Did you ever ask about the occasion?”
She nodded. “Dad said he wasn’t sure. Mom dodged the question too. I thought it was odd, but after Mom died, it didn’t matter anymore. I just enjoyed seeing my mom smiling in the picture.”
She opened the visor mirror and used the tissue to remove wayward mascara. “Sadness had often made my mom frown when she didn’t think anyone was looking. Not that she was unhappy all the time. She wasn’t. But I think something bad must’ve happened before I was born. After she died, I asked my dad about it. He said she’d had a rough childhood, and they didn’t like to talk about it.”
She sighed. “I accepted that, as I accepted the way my dad always had to be doing something and keep me busy too. The way he expected perfection from me, but with them both gone, I wish I’d pushed for a better answer.”
“After your dad died, did any of your mother’s things shed light on her past?”
She shook her head and closed the mirror. “He only kept a few pieces of her jewelry. He gave it to me when I turned twenty-one.”
“Do you have any relatives you can ask about the picture? Or anyone who could give you more insight into your parents?”
“My paternal grandpa is still alive, but my dad wasn’t very close to him, so I doubt he knows anything. And my mom was an only child. Dad had a sister who never married, and she died about ten years ago. And my grandparents on my mom’s side are both gone. Lung cancer. Both of them. Died before I was born.”
“Might be worth giving your grandpa a call.”
“I can do that.”
“What about a family history? Any information on the older generations?”
“Not much.” She lifted the visor back into place and shifted to look at him.
“Where did your parents grow up?”
“Dad was born and raised in Portland and lived there until he joined the DEA. Then he and my mom moved to Virginia, where I was raised. My mom was born somewhere on this coast. Not sure where though. She always changed the subject when it came up.”
Odd that she knew so little about her family, but he didn’t have much information on the older generations in his family either. “Ever considered looking into a genealogy website?”
She twisted her hands together. “I figure there’s a good reason Mom wouldn’t talk about her past, and I want to remember her and Dad as I knew them, not learn some family secret I can’t ever unlearn. Like today. Finding out Dad might be connected to Rader and Hibbard.”
Clay was about to say she could work through whatever she learned, but she didn’t have the support of a family like he did to help her. “I once thought my family was an open book, but not too long ago, we learned that my dad isn’t Sierra’s biological father. My mom was pregnant when he met and married her. It was a big shock. To everyone. Sierra freaked out at first, but then she realized it didn’t matter in her relationship with Dad. He’d always been her father. Nothing changed that. I’ve never respected Sierra more.”
Toni looked like she might comment, but Trent stepped out of the house, taking their attention.
“It’s show time.” Clay said. “You up to talking with him?”
She firmed her shoulders. “I will be by the time I reach him.”
Clay wanted to give her hand a squeeze. He didn’t, just slid out of the car.
Toni joined him near the hood, and they waited as Trent strode toward them. He lifted his phone to his ear to answer. Clay heard him address the person on the call as Sam Griffin and he asked her to process the forensics here.
Trent paused for a moment, then nodded. “See you then.”
He shoved his phone into his pocket and headed straight for them, his expression tight. He eyed them both for a minute. “It’s Rader all right. Looks like he was strangled, but I’m sure you figured that out when you took a look through the place, and you found the money in the drawers.”
“We had to confirm he’d died before calling it in,” Clay said, but didn’t acknowledge searching the dresser.
“With that smell?” Trent rolled his eyes. “You knew the minute you opened that door that he was gone.”
“Did I hear you call Sam Griffin to do the forensics?” Clay hoped a change of subject might calm Trent down.
“Yes,” Trent said. “Before you ask, I won’t be sharing the results, and Sam’s a professional, so don’t bother asking her.”
“But—”
“But nothing.” He raised his shoulders. “This is an official investigation. I can only share what we reveal to the public.”
“You wouldn’t even know he was dead if we hadn’t come out here.”
“He would’ve been discovered eventually. And probably by someone who would’ve run from the body and not searched the place.”
“Look at our visit here as positive,” Clay said. “We captured the cockatoo and put it in the cage. You’ll find blood on its beak and talons. Blood I suspect is from Rader’s killer.”
Trent chewed on the side of his cheek. “Thanks for corralling the bird and saving that evidence.”
“See, we’re not all bad.” Clay grinned.
Trent didn’t crack a smile.
“Bird needs water and food,” Toni said.
“I’ll have someone see to it after we collect the sample.” Trent rested his hands on his hips. “I know the bird wasn’t the only thing you touched.”
“Speaking of that.” Toni quickly told him about the boxes in the garage but left out her clothing and picture. “I assume you’ll be running the photos against the database for missing girls, but I have no idea what the other items mean.”
She took a long breath and shared about the personal items. “I’ve never heard of this man before today. I have no idea how my father knew him or why there’s a picture of me or why the outfit I was wearing is in one of the boxes.”
Trent’s eyes flashed wide for a moment before he controlled his surprise. “I’m sure you’ll dig into the connection. You might be able to locate information about your past that I don’t have access to. I would appreciate updates.”
“Information exchange goes both ways,” Clay said.
“I’ve already told you I can’t share.”
Trent tightened his hands on his hips. “But I’ll keep you updated on anything I learn before we release it to the public.”
“Fair enough,” Clay said and meant it. “What do you know about Rader?”
Trent raised an eyebrow and didn’t speak for a moment, then shifted his stance. “It’s common knowledge that his wife took off in ‘95. After that, he headed into a downward spiral. The year after she left him, he was arrested for public drunkenness and lewd behavior. It was way before my time. Blake’s too. He was just a kid then, but he keeps in touch with Sheriff Ziegler, so Blake might have at least a passing knowledge of what happened.”
“From what Loraine said, it sounds like people thought he’d killed his wife,” Clay said.
Trent frowned. “Loraine likes to gossip, but as far as I know, the wife just got tired of living in a small town and took off.”
“We were wondering if maybe she was buried in the back yard,” Toni said.
Trent’s frown deepened.
This was where Clay could help and maybe gain some information along the way too. “Dr. Dunbar, the anthropologist at the Veritas Center, has a drone program that locates graves without digging. If you want to bring her in to scan this property, I’d be glad to foot the bill.”
Trent tilted his head, his gaze roaming the property. “She’d report only to me?”
Clay nodded. “And she won’t say a word to us, if that’s what you want.”
Trent’s eyebrow lifted. “Then why are you doing this?”
“We’re hoping it will lead to the girls in the photographs.”
Trent gave a firm nod. “Get her out here, but make sure she’s clear on who she reports to.”
Clay wished he could be privy to her findings, but he had to respect Kelsey’s position. Still, maybe he could accompany her back here and glean some info by simply being present.
“If there’s nothing else, we should get going,” Clay said.
“I’ll call if I need anything else.” He eyed Clay. “Just be sure you take my call.”
“Will do.” Clay and Toni got back in the vehicle, and he called Kelsey.
“I can’t share my findings at the school,” she said by way of answer.
“I know. I have another job for you.” He explained. “Could you do that today?”
“I’m already back at the lab and would have to clear my whole day for travel back there.” She let out a long breath.
“What if I could get someone from Gage’s team to fly you here?”
“That would help.”
Clay started thinking about the costs he was incurring. It was one thing to hitch a ride on the helicopter, but Gage would need to charge for a special trip. Still, finding these girls trumped everything. And besides, Clay could send Bird’s blood sample on the chopper to Veritas.
“I’ll give Gage a call and let you know.” He disconnected and dialed Gage.
As it turned out, Coop was headed to Portland late in the afternoon, and Clay would only have to pay for Kelsey to be flown back home when the job was done. He texted her the information, and she responded immediately.
Works for me.
I’ll pick you up at Gage’s compound, he replied. It will be late by the time you finish so you can stay with us if you want.
He quickly texted Sierra to ask if her assistant could pick up the blood sample from the helipad and gave her the time. Before he could put his phone down she replied with a yes.
He set his phone in a cup holder and turned to Toni to update her. “We have a few hours before Kelsey arrives. How do you want to proceed?”
“I say we do an internet search on both Jason and Fritz Rader. See what we turn up. I especially want to see if I can find Jason’s Facebook page, and I should call my grandpa.”
“We can do that at my parents’ place.” He cranked the engine. “On the way, we can drop off the blood sample for Coop to take to Portland. And I want to find out which house Jason lured his victims to and visit the place.”
“He’s recently been arrested so it could still be sealed off.”
Clay shifted into gear. “Not if the owner put pressure on Trent to return it to their control.”
“But then they likely had it cleaned.”
He wouldn’t lose hope. “There’s still bound to be forensic evidence there. We’ll just need to look harder—and maybe get Sierra out here too.”
Toni stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows in the Byrd’s large ranch style house. The living room overlooked a path leading through grasses and flowers to a wooden stairway down to the beach. The wind whipped through the dried grasses and peppered sand into the window.
“This is a great location,” she said to Clay when he joined her.
A fond smile spread across his face. “My grandparents grew up nearby and built this place. We spent so many summers out here with them. It was awesome. When they got older and moved into a smaller house, they passed it down to my dad. Otherwise we could never have afforded such a place.”
His smile widened, and his love for his family was so evident in his expression, touching her deeply. What would it be like to really know your grandparents? To have such a big family instead of being alone in the world?
She felt a pity-party ramping up. Stop it. Stop comparing. You live a blessed life.
“As it is,” he continued, “Mom and Dad rent it out part of the year just to pay the taxes and upkeep. But it’s vacant a lot of the time in the offseason.”
“I’ve never really gone to the beach much, but I like it best in the winter. To sit inside and watch the storms roll in. And when it lets up to take long walks in the fog and mist. One of my dreams is to go horseback riding on the beach, but I’ve never made the time to do it.”
“A woman after my own heart.” He chuckled. “Not the horse part, but I like the beach in stormy weather too. Especially when I’m struggling with something big. Helps seeing such an amazing part of God’s creation to put things in perspective.”
She faced him. “Does that happen often? The big struggles, I mean.”
“Recently, a whole lot more than I’d like.”
She didn’t respond, just waited him out, hoping he’d tell her more.
“A good example is my dad’s transplant,” he said. “That’s when Sierra found out he isn’t her biological father. And your dad died about the same time.”
She was still touched by his caring. “His death really bothered you, didn’t it? I mean, more than the usual grief we face when someone is killed on the job.”
“Of course.” His face was deeply lined with concern, and her heart fluttered over the intensity of his gaze. “He’s your dad. How could I not be impacted?”
“You’re making it sound like there’s something between us.” She couldn’t believe she’d just said that when she wanted to ignore anything personal between them.
“Isn’t there?” He stepped closer and cupped her cheek, those long fingers gentle, yet firm.
She expected his touch would be thrilling, but she struggled to breathe. “We’re attracted to each other.”
His fingertips flirted with her hairline, and she waited a moment for them to plunge into her hair and draw her closer. They didn’t, though. Instead, he stilled them. “I think it’s more than that, don’t you?”
Yeah. Way more. But she wouldn’t admit it. Not now. Not with all they had to do. Even if his touch was like a match, kindling every emotion. She didn’t want to disappoint him. She also didn’t want to encourage him.
She gently removed his hand and held it for a moment, making it more difficult to say no to his touch. “I can’t do this with you. When Dad was shot…”
She had to pause to breathe. She let go of his hand. “I was admiring the way you looked all suited up for the raid. And in that moment—that briefest of seconds when I took my eyes off the op—Dad stepped up to the house. I was too late to call out to him, and he was gunned down.”
The memory of her father dropping to th
e ground. Blood oozing from his chest. Unable to go to him due to gunfire. Watching him bleed out before her eyes.
She shuddered, and Clay inched closer, his expression warm and comforting.
“It’s my fault he’s dead,” she said, firming her resolution to keep Clay at arm’s length. “If I’d been paying attention to my job, it would never have happened. And I won’t risk anyone’s life in this investigation because of a romantic attraction.”
He looked at her long and hard, then gave a slight shake of his head. “You couldn’t have stopped the bullet that killed your dad. Not even if you hadn’t been distracted. It all played out too fast. None of us could’ve done anything. Unless we went back in time and changed the op. As leader, I had choices. We could’ve gone a few ways, and I chose the plan. So if anyone’s to blame, it’s me.”
“What? No. Not at all.” She grabbed his hand again. “I don’t blame you or anyone else.”
“Then why blame yourself? Because I guarantee each officer on scene that day went home and played the raid over and over again. Might still be playing it and trying to figure out how they could’ve stopped the shooting. And each person will have their own version of how they could’ve done something different to change the outcome.”
“But they weren’t negligent. I was.”
“Negligent is a pretty harsh word.”
“I deserve harsh words.” She paced away from him and turned her back. She couldn’t look at him or she might actually believe him and forgive herself. A forgiveness she didn’t deserve.
His footfalls sounded on the tile floor as he came up behind her. He laid a hand on her shoulder. She wanted to lean back and rest against his strong body. To bask in the warmth. Draw strength from him, but touching him again would only take her to the wrong place. So she remained still. Didn’t speak.
“Have you talked to God about this?” he asked quietly.
“Talk is probably a tame word for what I’ve done.”
“Yelled at Him?”
“At times, yeah. Even blamed Him. He could’ve changed the outcome that day.”
Clay didn’t speak for a long time, so she turned to look at him. His eyes were narrowed, and he ran a hand through his hair, leaving little tufts sticking up. She wanted to smooth them down. She shoved her hands into her pockets and waited him out.
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