Save Her Soul: An absolutely unputdownable crime thriller and mystery novel (Detective Josie Quinn Book 9)

by Lisa Regan

  “Lockwood,” Josie said. “Lockwood Road. Alice, that’s partially flooded. That area of the interstate beside it flooded earlier today. We watched from the Stop-N-Go. It’s not safe.”

  “It’s not all flooded,” Alice insisted. “Behind the abandoned bowling alley. We’ll meet there. No one will look for me there.”

  No one would look for anyone there, Josie thought. That whole strip was like a graveyard. “Alice, it’s too dangerous to be that close to one of the flood zones. I think we should pick another place.”

  Alice made a noise of frustration. “Seven a.m. behind the abandoned bowling alley on Lockwood. This is the last time I’m putting myself out there. You come or you don’t, but tomorrow at seven-fifteen, I’m gone, and you’ll never hear from me again.”

  The next thing Josie heard was dead air.

  Twenty-Three

  It was nearing dinnertime when Josie got back to the stationhouse. The first thing she did was call the police department in the Georgia district where Floyd Urban lived. She explained that they had a murder and a missing woman on their hands and that in 1987 that missing woman, Vera Urban, claimed to have stayed with her brother while on bedrest. She asked them if they could interview Floyd as well as members of his family, and possibly neighbors as it looked as though he’d lived in the same house for over thirty years, to see if anyone remembered seeing Vera there. Next, she emailed them Vera’s old driver’s license photo. Josie had a feeling it was a dead end and that Vera had simply lied about going to be with her brother while on bedrest, but it would be irresponsible not to have a closer look at Floyd Urban.

  Once that was finished, Josie met with Gretchen and Noah. Mettner was still out on emergency flood calls. Amber sat at one of the empty desks, typing away at her tiny laptop. She didn’t acknowledge them, but Josie was sure she was listening to everything they said. Noah waved a document in the air. “I found your construction worker. The one who worked for George Newton’s basement waterproofing company?”

  He handed the pages to Josie. As she skimmed them, Gretchen wheeled her chair over so she could see as well. There was an obituary and a death certificate. Noah said, “His name was Ambrose McNeil. As you can see there, he had a history of arrests for drug possession and intent to sell. He was convicted of possession of heroin—four grams—and spent two years in prison before coming to work for Newton.”

  Josie pointed to a line on the death certificate. “He died of a heroin overdose.”

  Gretchen said, “And he was only twenty-seven.”

  “Yes,” Noah agreed. “He overdosed within a year of the work on the Hempstead Road house being completed.”

  Josie asked, “Did you check with the state police and FBI to see if Ambrose owned any firearms?”

  Noah pushed a few things around his desk before coming up with another stack of pages. “I did. Actually, while I was doing that, I took the list you two had made of people whose firearms purchase history you wanted to check and got everyone.”

  “That’s great,” Gretchen said. “What did you get?”

  He read off the list before handing it to them to peruse on their own. “Ambrose McNeil owned one pistol, a .45 ACP. There are no records of George Newton ever having purchased firearms. Calvin Plummer owns three hunting rifles, one purchased in 1986, one purchased in 1999, and one purchased in 2003. He also owns a shotgun which he purchased in 2001.”

  Josie took the pages from him and studied them herself. “No nine millimeters.”

  “None that were legally purchased,” Noah said.

  “True,” Gretchen said. “Any one of them could have obtained a nine-millimeter pistol illegally and there would be no record of it.”

  “But for now,” Josie said, “we’ve got no proof that any of those people owned a gun the same caliber as the one that killed Beverly.”

  “Unfortunately,” Noah agreed. “I also checked to see if Vera ever purchased a firearm. Found nothing.”

  “What about Ambrose McNeil’s inmate records? Can we get those? Check and see if he had tattoos?”

  “Already did,” Gretchen said. “He’s listed as having several tattoos but nothing described as a skull or skulls.”

  Josie plopped into her chair and slouched down. Fatigue weighed down every inch of her body. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to still the whirling thoughts and brimming frustration inside. Gretchen said, “You okay, boss?”

  Josie’s eyes snapped open. “I’m fine. I do have a couple of leads.”

  Gretchen and Noah stared at her expectantly. She told them about the salon and then started to tell them about the call from Alice, but the sight of Amber behind them stopped her. Alice kept saying that it wasn’t safe to meet at the police department. She was obviously worried about being followed. She hadn’t trusted Josie and Gretchen to come to the meet alone that morning. Under normal circumstances, Josie could be absolutely certain that no one on the police force was a threat to Alice—or anyone else—but the circumstances were not normal. In fact, the only difference in the last two days was the addition of Amber to the staff.

  “What did she say?” Noah asked. “Will she meet again?”

  “Yes. She’ll meet with us. Tomorrow,” Josie said. “But I’ve got to wait for her to call back with the place and time.”

  She’d tell Gretchen the real details of the call later. For now, if Alice was that paranoid about the police, Josie had to take that concern seriously.

  Before either Gretchen or Noah could ask any more questions, the stairwell door flew open and Officer Hummel walked in, carrying a document in one hand and a paper bag in the other. He walked over to the desks. Ignoring Amber, he placed a fingerprint report in front of Josie.

  “Boss,” he said. “This is the report from the prints we were able to get from the tarp and the duct tape. We got multiple unidentified prints from the tarps.”

  Her heart gave an excited little patter, which quickly died as she looked over the report.

  “As well as Vera’s prints and Ambrose McNeil’s prints on the tarps—”

  “But not on the tape,” Hummel finished for her.

  Noah said, “Did you get any prints from the tape?”

  “One print that was still usable,” Hummel said. “But it didn’t get a hit on AFIS. So whoever left that print has never been arrested or charged with a crime.”

  Gretchen noted, “The tarps were probably hanging up in the house or laid out to cover something if there was ongoing work happening. I’m not surprised that some of the prints were from Vera or this Ambrose guy. I think the print on the tape is the killer’s though.”

  “Which does us no good now,” Noah complained. “We don’t have a match.”

  “But we’ll get one,” Josie said. She smiled at Hummel. “Thank you. Great work.”

  Hummel nodded. “I also had a look at the inside sleeve of the jacket, and it was torn and resewn just as suspected. Also, there was this.” He reached into the paper bag and pulled out an old piece of paper encased in plastic. He held it out for them to see. “This was in one of the jacket pockets.”

  Josie said, “It’s a receipt from the Wellspring Clinic.”

  “What’s that?” Noah asked.

  “It was a doctors’ office geared toward low-income people,” Josie said. “Or people who didn’t have insurance—or didn’t have good insurance. They charged on a sliding scale based on your family income. I was a patient there until I left for college. It used to be in central Denton, in the historic district, but it closed years ago.”

  “Makes sense that Beverly would go there,” Gretchen said, “from what we know about her and Vera’s financial situation. What else does the receipt say?”

  The print on it had faded. Even with her reading glasses, Gretchen had to squint to see it. “Looks like she was charged for an exam of some kind.”

  Noah said, “We can use the copier to darken that up, you know.”

  Hummel gave it to Noah. “I wanted you to see t
his before we dust it for prints so wear gloves and be very careful.”

  “You got it,” Noah said.

  From where she sat several feet away, Josie noticed Amber watching them with interest, her fingers frozen over the keyboard. They watched Noah don gloves, remove the receipt from the bag, place it face down on the copier glass, and then punch some buttons. A few moments later, he had darkened copies of the receipt for each of them. Josie looked at the date. May 28, 2004. Only a few weeks before school had ended that year. “There’s no possible way to get records from this visit,” Josie said. “Wellspring is gone and even if it wasn’t, medical providers aren’t required to keep records this far back.”

  Noah said, “Hummel, was there anything else in the pockets of the jacket or her jeans?”

  Hummel shrugged. “Couple of dollars, a lip gloss. That was it.”

  Gretchen sighed. “So until we meet with Alice or get the list of clients from Vera’s old employer—assuming they are able to compile one at all—we’ve really got no leads.”

  No one responded.

  From the other side of the room, Amber cleared her throat. “Maybe now is the time to release Beverly’s identity. We could ask the public for help in locating Vera as well. The Chief mentioned to me the possibility of rolling out a tip line since this case is quite old. I’ve already laid the groundwork during the press conference earlier today. All I would have to do is release a statement with some photos. The press will run with it on broadcasts and social media. I’m happy to answer the tip line.”

  Josie looked at Noah and then Gretchen and saw from their expressions that neither of them had any objections. Josie said, “If you get the Chief’s approval, it’s fine with us.”

  Gretchen said, “Come on, Watts. I’ll go with you to talk to him. We need to work out what information we want to tell the public and what we want to hold back.”

  Josie and Noah watched them walk into the Chief’s office. They waited a long moment, expecting to hear the Chief holler, but there were only the sounds of hushed voices and the tap of Amber’s fingers over her tablet keyboard.

  Noah said, “You ready to go home? Misty said she’s making paella. Patrick’s supposed to come over too. Bringing his new girlfriend, I hear.”

  Josie smiled. She hadn’t seen her younger brother in a few weeks. He was a student at Denton University. Josie usually enticed him into coming over to visit by offering the use of her washer and dryer. Also, he had told her he was dating someone, but she hadn’t yet met the woman. “That sounds wonderful,” she said. “But I need to talk to Gretchen before I leave. You go ahead. I’ll meet you there.”

  With no one else in the room, Noah walked over, leaned down, and kissed her. “Don’t be long.”

  Gretchen and Amber emerged from the Chief’s office a few minutes later. Amber sat down at one of the desks and started typing away. “I’ll have this statement ready for your review in a few minutes, Detective Palmer,” she said.

  Gretchen gave her the thumbs-up and headed to the stairwell door. Josie followed her, waiting till they were in the stairwell and the door was closed to tell her about the plan to meet Alice the next morning.

  Gretchen looked around the cramped stairwell. “You don’t want Amber to know?”

  “Just humor me, okay?” Josie responded. “Alice doesn’t think this is a safe place to meet. The only thing different around here is our new press liaison.”

  “But she has no connection to anyone here. How could she be dangerous to our mystery woman?” Gretchen asked.

  “She has connections to the Mayor who has connections to city council. Maybe it’s not the police that Alice is worried about. Maybe it’s someone else. Someone higher up.”

  Gretchen pursed her lips as she considered this. “Seems like a stretch, but there’s no harm in keeping this from Amber, so she won’t hear it from me.”

  Josie thanked her and headed home.

  Dinner was fabulous, as always, and with Patrick and his new girlfriend, Brenna, there, Harris had new adults to regale with stories of the bugs he had seen outside; his grandmother’s false teeth; and the exploits of Pepper and Trout. Josie laughed when everyone else did, but her mind was on the case. After dinner, Patrick and Brenna returned to campus and the rest of them went into the living room and watched the local news, which ran the spot about Beverly and Vera Urban as their top story. Josie sat on the couch with Trout on one side and Misty’s dog, Pepper, on the other.

  From his spot on the floor where he was putting together a Duplo Lego set with Harris, Noah laughed. “The Chief must be thrilled. For the first time in a week, the top story isn’t Quail Hollow.”

  Josie listened as the anchor read off the scant details that Denton PD had offered: the identity of the victim recovered during the flooding on Hempstead had been verified as Beverly Urban; confirmation that Beverly had been murdered; the fact that Beverly had been a former student at Denton East High back in 2004, and that her mother, Vera Urban, could not be located. The tip line flashed across the screen, and then the newscast moved on to the next story.

  “You think we’ll get any calls?” Noah asked.

  “No,” Josie answered. “No way is Alice calling the press. No one else in the world noticed that Vera and Beverly hadn’t simply moved away. It’s like they had no one in their lives.”

  “Except a killer,” Noah said.

  “And whoever Beverly’s baby belonged to,” Josie added.

  Twenty-Four

  2004

  Downtown Denton was crowded on a Saturday morning. Josie parked her grandmother’s car in one of the public parking lots and took a stroll down Aymar Avenue. The day was gorgeous with perfect blue skies, sunshine, and a light, cool breeze that tickled her bare arms. It was supposed to get hotter later in the day, but at noon it was still pleasant. Until she was almost to the construction site and heard the noises: men shouting, the ear-shattering metallic pounding of a hydraulic hammer, the hum of loaders, the squeal of drills, the roar of excavators, and the clang of their diggers as they scraped away earth and rock. Outside the six-story structure that was being built on the corner of Aymar and Stockton, a tall temporary chain-link fence had been erected along the sidewalk. Someone had affixed bright orange safety netting over it to alert anyone walking past that the area was potentially unsafe. Josie found the gate that Ray had told her about, which had several metal signs on it warning anyone not working on the site to stay out. On the other side sat a man in an orange helmet and vest, perched on a concrete barrier reading a magazine.

  “Hey,” Josie called to him. He didn’t look up. “Hey,” she said again. “I’m looking for Ray Quinn.”

  Without looking at her, the man pulled a walkie-talkie from his belt and squeezed a button. “I need Quinn,” he barked. “Girlfriend’s out here.”

  He went back to reading his magazine while Josie waited for Ray to appear. Five minutes later, he emerged, wearing his coveralls and a white tank top stained light brown with dirt. Sweat glistened along his arms and gave his face a sheen. He waited till they were out of sight of the gatekeeper before giving her a quick kiss.

  “How much time do you have?” Josie asked.

  “Half hour,” Ray said. “Let’s walk down to the other corner. There’s an ice cream place.”

  “Only a half hour?” Josie asked. “Ray!”

  He slid his hand into hers as they walked. “I’ll see you tonight. After work.”

  “No, you won’t,” Josie said. “You’ll be asleep right after dinner. Ray, this job is too much.”

  “I just have to get used to it. It’s a long day out in the heat. Jo, it’s only on the weekends.”

  She tugged at his hand, pulling him closer to her. “The weekends are the only time I get to see you. How long are you going to be working this job?”

  “School is almost out, Jo. Then I’ll be able to work during the week.”

  “I thought we were going to lifeguard together at the community center this su
mmer,” she said. “Like last summer. We’d see each other every day.”

  Ray let go of her hand and slung his arm around her shoulders, pulling her tight to his side. Sweat soaked into her linen dress, but she didn’t push him away. “I make more at this job, Jo.”

  They came to an intersection, stopping at the Do Not Walk sign. Josie’s gaze dropped to her feet. “Since when do you need to make more than you did last summer? Is something wrong? Is everything okay with your mom?”

  “Oh, Jo,” Ray sighed. He pulled her out of the way of other pedestrians as the sign changed to Walk. They stood on the curb together and Ray turned her to face him. “I was going to surprise you, but the real reason I took this job is for you.”

  Josie looked into his eyes. “For me? I’d rather see you. Next year we both leave for college. I want to take advantage of the time we have now.”

  He pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her, locking hands across her lower back. Now the front of her dress would be soaked, but she didn’t care. “Remember how you said you wanted to go to the beach?”

  “Ray! What are you saying?”

  “If I work this job for two months, I’ll have enough to take you to the beach for a whole week and enough to put away for college and help my mom with bills. I was going to surprise you with the trip at the end of the summer. I already talked to your grandmother. She’s going to help me plan the vacation.”

  Josie couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across her face. She pulled him in closer, her cheek against his damp neck. “Ray!” she squealed. “I can’t believe it! A whole week? Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I already worked it out with your Gram, and my mom said it was fine too. It’s going to be so much fun. A little getaway before senior year starts.”

  Josie practically skipped through the intersection when the light changed again, the Walk sign blinking on. She held tightly to Ray’s hand, feeling a sense of euphoria she almost never experienced. Up until she turned fourteen and went to live with Lisette, her life had been filled with trauma and abuse. Any vacation was out of the question. She was lucky if she ate on a daily basis. Once her grandmother got custody of her, she’d tried to provide Josie with as many fun adventures as possible. It was Lisette who had first taken Josie on a trip to the beach the summer after her freshman year. Josie had instantly fallen in love with the small seaside town of Ocean City, New Jersey, and the ocean. Lisette had managed to take her back there for a few overnight trips, but she had always wanted to spend a whole week there. Now it was within reach, and she’d be going with Ray. She felt like she was floating.