Текст книги "Thread of Suspicion"

Автор книги: Jeff Shelby

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

FORTY-NINE

“I think we need to call the police,” Lauren said.

We were back in the car. After getting the credit card info from the Ponders and a cursory look around Bryce’s room that produced nothing, we told them we’d be in touch with them as soon as we learned anything new. I told Lauren that I needed to go see a friend in the hospital before we decided exactly how to proceed.

She was not exhibiting much patience.

“I’m not disagreeing with you,” I said, navigating the highway traffic. The sun dipped low on the horizon. “But I’d rather wait until we have a location for them.”

“How far could they be from Omaha?” she said, throwing her hands up.

“Actually, pretty far,” I said. “We don’t know what direction they’re headed and if they checked out at normal time, they’ve had the better part of the day to drive.”

She turned away from me and stared out the window.

“And if we involve the police here now, there’s no way you and I will be able to go anywhere if we do get a location for them,” I said. “We’ll be locked into questioning for hours and you know what that’s like.”

She pulled out her phone and refreshed the browser.

“Anything?” I asked.

“No,” she said, staring at Bryce Ponder’s credit card account on her screen.

“They’ve done it two nights in a row,” I said. “It’ll happen. But if we’re tied up answering questions, we won’t get to be the ones that go to her. They’ll hold us.”

“But if we got their information in the system, there would be more eyes looking for them,” she said, tapping the window. “For her. A wider net. Eventually, we’d get to her. They’d hold her.”

“It might mean screwing this Ponder kid,” I said.

“Like I care about him.”

I glanced at her. “You seemed sympathetic while we were there.”

“I wanted information,” she said. “They weren’t going to respond to you yelling at them. But I could care less what happens to him.”

“I gave the guy my word.”

“Yeah, well, the kid’s on probation. That isn’t our problem.” She made a fist and pounded it against the window. “She’s out there, Joe. I don’t want to lose her again. If they can get her in custody, she’ll be there when we get there. She’ll be there waiting. She won’t be lost. We’ll know where she is.”

The GPS directed me to the upcoming exit and I moved over to the far right lane.

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay?”

“We can call them,” I said. “Bigger net. That’s what you want, let’s call them.”

“What I want is to see our daughter again,” she said.

She was being logical. I was not. She was trading the idea of being the first to reach Elizabeth for more people looking for her. She was willing to hand over the search for her to other people. I wasn’t so sure I was willing to do that.

But looking at her in the passenger seat, knowing she’d come to Minnesota just because I’d asked her and seeing that she finally had the hope that I’d held onto for so long, I didn’t think it was fair to just overrule her for no good reason. Her logic was sound. Mine was selfish.

I took the exit and slowed the car as we descended the off ramp. “Then let’s call it in.”

She reached over and grabbed my forearm. “Thank you.”

My phone rang in my pocket and I fished it out. Mike’s number was on the screen.

I tapped the screen. “Hey.”

“Joe,” he said. “How are you?”

“I’m actually alright.”

“Sorry it took me so long to get back to you. It took a while to hear back from the Vero PD. I’m afraid I didn’t get much on Detwiler.”

“Mike, we found her,” I said and told him what had transpired since I’d been in Minnesota.

“And Lauren’s here,” I said when I’d finished. “Right beside me in the car.”

“Wow,” he said. “Okay.”

But there was something off in his voice.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“Well, I’m not sure,” he said. “But remember when we talked the other day? I said Bazer was asking about you.”

“Yeah.”

“Something else happened.”

The hospital was on our right, just off the freeway and I turned into the parking lot. “Okay.”

“I might just be paranoid, I don’t know.”

I pulled into a parking spot and cut the engine. Lauren gave me a look, wondering what was going on. I held up a finger. “Okay.”

“This morning, I had Elizabeth’s file on my desk,” Mike said. “I was just reading through it. I’ve been going back through it ever since I gave you the picture. Just looking for anything I might’ve missed.”

That sounded like him. If anyone had come close to my obsession with my daughter’s abduction, it was Mike. He’d put in nearly as many hours as I had looking for her. He was always reexamining and rethinking and looking for new angles. Even after I’d left the department, he’d stayed in my corner.

“And I was trying to find the damn case name I found the picture in to begin with,” he said quickly. “Because I can’t find it.”

“It’s fine,” I said, not sure that I needed that info anymore. Maybe down the road, but not right at that moment.

“But Bazer walked into my office,” he continued. “The file was open. I’d made a photocopy of the photo before I gave it to you. The copy was on top of the file. He started to say something to me, then stopped when he saw the picture. And then he sort of…freaked out.”

“What do you mean?”

“He wanted to know about the picture,” he said. “Where I found it. Where it came from. If you had seen it. Who else had seen it.”

“So he was surprised?” I asked. “I’m not following.”

“Yeah, he was surprised,” Mike said. “But it was weird. It’s like it wasn’t in a good way. It was like he didn’t want anyone else to see it. Like he was worried about it.”

I thought for a moment. “He’s probably worried that dredging anything up will dredge everything up. It’ll bring back all of the questions about the department, about me, all of the things that drove him nuts. Same reason he was asking about me the other day.”

“Maybe,” Mike said. “But he took the file.”

“He took it?”

“To review, he said. He told me he’d get it back to me tomorrow. He wanted to read through it again. Since there was a new piece to it. At least, that’s what he said.”

I leaned back in the seat. “Again. I think he’s probably worried about any info leaking and the whole thing will come back and he’ll have to answer all of the questions about me all over again.”

“I guess. Then I had a couple of other people come ask me about it,” he said. “So I guess he was making it known that there was some progress. Which isn’t like him, you know?”

“Imagine how it’s going to feel when you tell him we found her,” I said. “And how I’m going to ream him publicly for the first time.”

Mike chuckled. “That should go over well.”

“I don’t care how it goes over,” I said. “But all these years of keeping my mouth shut will be over. I will torch him.”

“Careful. Your bitterness is showing.”

“I’m all talk anyway,” I said. “Hey, can you run a name for me?”

“Always.”

“Marianna Gelson,” I said. “That’s the name of the woman this family supposedly made contact with. I’m assuming it’s fake, but you never know.”

“I’ll run it,” he said. “How can I help? You want me to start making calls? Or you want me up there? Get people moving towards their location?”

I paused. “No. I’ll do it. I’ve gotta go talk to someone first and then we’ll get on it.”

“You sure?” he asked. “Because I can do some of the legwork and get the ball rolling. It’s not a problem.”

“No, not yet,” I said. “But thanks.”

“Who do you need to talk to?”

“Just a guy helping me here,” I said. “And I need to get going.”

“Okay,” he said. “Let me know.” He paused. “Wow. I never thought…” His words trailed off.

“I know,” I said. “I know. I’ll call you soon.”

We hung up.

“What’s wrong?” Lauren asked, immediately on guard.

“Nothing,” I said. “Just more with Bazer.”

She frowned. “What about him?”

“Nothing,” I said. “Just him being himself. Worried about himself.” I pointed at the hospital. “Let me go talk to this guy and then we’ll start making phone calls, okay? This won’t take long.”

“Alright.”

We found Rodney’s room on the ninth floor and Isabel was with him.

She smiled when we entered. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I said. “Isabel this is Lauren. Lauren this is Isabel. She’s been helping me here.”

They shook hands. I never knew how to introduce Lauren. Identifying her as my ex-wife seemed to carry such a negative connotation and that wasn’t how I viewed her. So I usually just said her name and hope that sufficed. I knew I had spoken about her with Isabel, so she’d know who she was.

“And this is Rodney,” I said, stepping toward the bed. “Rodney, this is Lauren. Elizabeth’s mother.”

He scooted himself up in the bed and smiled at her. “A pleasure.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Lauren said, returning the smile.

“How are you?” I asked him.

“Can’t feel much on my left side, but I’m not at death’s door,” he said, holding the smile. “I’m alright.” He glanced at Lauren. “If you’re here in town, I’m assuming you’ve made some progress?”

“We have,” I said and told him where we were at.

He listened intently, nodding occasionally. “That’s good, Joe. Very good. But you shouldn’t be here with me then. You should be out there, finding her.”

“I know and we’re only here for a bit,” I said. “But Isabel indicated you were asking for me and I didn’t want to leave until we came by.”

Lauren touched my elbow. “I’m going to go find some coffee. I’ll be outside.”

I nodded.

“Do you mind if I come with you?” Isabel asked.

“Of course,” Lauren said.

She held the door open and they both stepped out.

“She must’ve been thrilled to get your call,” he said.

“I think so. I was pretty thrilled to make it.”

“You need to go find your daughter,” he said. “You’re close.”

“Why did you want to see me?” I asked.

He cleared his throat. “As you know, my memory, it’s not as sharp as it used to be.”

I didn’t say anything.

“Things get away from me,” he said. “They come and go.”

I nodded.

“It’s frustrating,” he said. “But there was something I wanted to ask you when we met that first time. I got carried away talking with you and then later that night I forgot. I assume I know the answer, but I wanted to ask anyway.”

“What’s that?”

“Did you ever receive the photo I sent?”

“Photo? After we spoke?”

He shook his head. “No, no. A photo that I sent to your department in San Diego a number of years ago.” He paused. “A photo of your daughter here in Minneapolis.”

FIFTY

“You sent that picture?” I asked. “To my department?”

“So you did get it?” he said, smiling.

“Yes. I got it,” I said. “But you were the one that sent it?”

He nodded. “Yes. I can’t recall exactly when I ran across it, but I sent it to your department.”

“Recently?” I frowned.

“Oh, no,” he answered. “This was a number of years ago. Again, I’m sorry. I can’t remember exactly when I sent it. That was why I thought it was odd that you were showing up here now. So many years after I’d forwarded it.”

“It was what brought me here,” I said. “That’s the lead I got that I mentioned. At the diner. There was a picture and an address.”

Rodney’s eyes lit up. “Yes! I sent the address, too.”

“Where did you find it?” I asked, my mind racing, confused.

He adjusted the blanket over his hospital gown. “There was a case here that ended up not being a case. When caseloads would get heavy, they would farm some things out to me on a consultant basis and I’d do some grunt work. Make phone calls, read through files. Just to help out. Anyway, a young girl was caught in a custody case. I believe it was just a stock photo of that girl.”

“Detwiler?” I asked. “Bailey Detwiler.”

He considered for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, that sounds correct. The father had originally reported her missing, but it turned out he was lying and just arguing with his former wife.”

“So then what?” I asked. “You recognized Elizabeth and sent it to me?”

“Not to you,” he said. “I didn’t have an address for you and quite honestly, I wasn’t sure it was the best thing to send to you at the time without any context or knowing if it was relevant. So, I made a couple of phone calls and sent it to your department. In Chicago.”

“Coronado, you mean,” I said.

He winced. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry. Coronado.”

A machine next to his bed beeped. “Do you remember who you sent it to?”

He thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No. I don’t.”

“Do you remember who you spoke to when you called?”

He hesitated, his mouth set in a flat line.

“Lieutenant Bazer?” I asked.

His mouth stayed flat and he shook his head. “Maybe.”

Something cold formed in my gut. “What about a Detective Lorenzo?”

There was a brief flicker of recognition. “That sounds familiar.”

The cold feeling in my gut went jagged and sharp.

“But I may have read their names in reading up on you. I can’t place them.” He shook his head. “I spoke to several people, I’m afraid. And names…escape me.” He frowned. “I’m sorry, Joe.”

“It’s okay,” I said, even though it was anything but. “You said you can’t recall when you sent it to Coronado. That it was a number of years ago. Like two or three?”

“Oh goodness, no,” he said, shaking his head. “It had to be at least five years ago. At minimum. That I’m sure of.”

And that’s when my mind when into overdrive.

Five years.

The picture had languished for five years, somewhere in the department.

Why?

Carelessness? Mix-up?

Maybe.

But the hair that was standing at attention on my arms was telling me something different.

And I no longer trusted anyone.

“So, I just wanted to know if you’d received it,” Rodney said, smiling faintly. “And it’s clear you did.”

I nodded, distracted. “Yeah.”

It never felt right to me that Elizabeth would’ve gone with someone she didn’t know. Not without making a sound or putting up a fight, a fight I would’ve heard with an open front door.

So, maybe she hadn’t.

Maybe she had gone with someone she’d known.

And maybe the same person had decided to hide that photo from me.

“Joe?” Rodney asked. “Are you alright?”

I hesitated. “Yeah. I am. But I need to go.”

He held out his bony hand. “Good luck.”

We shook. “Thank you. For all of your help.”

I strode to the door.

“Joe?”

I turned to him.

“Let me know how it turns out, okay?” he asked, a thin gray eyebrow raised. “I’d like to know if I helped in any way.”

“I will,” I promised him. “I will.”

FIFTY-ONE

Isabel and Lauren were standing just outside the door, talking quietly.

Lauren looked at me. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I said, knowing I wasn’t. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look okay,” she said.

“We should go,” I said. I turned to Isabel. “Thank you. For everything.”

Isabel stepped forward and hugged me. “Thank you. For Marc.”

She stepped back, hesitated, then hugged Lauren. “I hope you find her. Soon.”

“We will,” I said, taking Lauren by the hand. “Very soon.”

“What is wrong with you?” she asked when we stepped into the elevator. “You look like you saw a ghost. Or, like, nine of them.”

I pushed the button to take us to the first floor and the doors closed. “I think I’ve been an idiot.”

“How?”

“In too many ways,” I said, shutting my eyes and shaking my head. “In too many ways.”

“You aren’t making sense, Joe,” Lauren said.

“We need to go back to San Diego,” I said.

“What?”

I nodded, chewing on my bottom lip. “Back to San Diego. That’s where it started.”

She squeezed my hand. “Hey. Look at me.”

The elevator reached the bottom and we stepped out into the hospital lobby. I looked at her.

“What is going on?” she asked.

I started to say something, but her phone dinged. She pulled it out of her pocket and her face went pale.

“What?” I asked. “What is it?”

“I…I set up an alert,” she said, her voice shaking. “On the credit card. To notify me if it was used.”

Heat flooded my entire body. “Where?”

“I gotta pull it up,” she said, her hand quivering as she tapped the screen.

I took her by the arm and we walked outside into the frozen night air. I exhaled, trying to kick the rising heat out of my body, knives of excitement and anxiety tearing at my gut as I waited. My breath exploded out of me in an icy cloud, a puff of smoke against the dark evening sky.

My head was spinning. For years, there had been nothing. And then, in a matter of hours, there was everything.

“Got it,” she said. “I got it. A hotel.”

“Where?”

“We should call the police,” Lauren said. “Now.”

“No,” I said. “No more police. Not yet.”

“What?”

“Trust me, Lauren. I’ll explain. But we aren’t calling anyone right now. It’s me and you. You are the only person I trust right now and I swear to God, I’ll explain.” I shook my head. “But it’s me and you. We’re the ones that are going to get her. Tell me where she is. So we can get her.”

She stared at me, a hundred more questions in her eyes. But whatever she saw in mine just made her nod, let her trust me that I had my reasons. And even as I felt the small tickle of elation as we closed the distance between us and our daughter, a new kind of anger was blossoming inside me, anger I hadn’t felt in quite some time. Anger that was going to eventually drive me back to Coronado.

Lauren held out the phone.

I took it.

Looked at the screen.

Read it.

Exhaled.

Handed her the phone back.

The anger would have to wait.

The gap had just closed even further.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go find our daughter in Denver.”

THE END

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

As always, I owe a lot of thanks to a lot of people:

The readers who responded so enthusiastically to the first Joe book.

My family and friends for their encouragement, support and good humor.

Pam Applegate for her editing expertise.

Hayley, Nick, Hannah and Julia for being the best kids ever.

Beth Balmanno for making me happier than I’ve ever been.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Thanks so much for reading THREAD OF SUSPICION, the second book in the Joe Tyler series. If you enjoyed the book, I’ve included the first few chapters to the third book in the Joe Tyler series, THREAD OF BETRAYAL.

If you’re looking for something a little more light-hearted, I’ve also included the opening chapter to THE MURDER PIT, a funny, cozy mystery and the first book in a brand new series that I’ve just started.

You can sign up for my monthly newsletter if you’d like to make sure you hear about all my upcoming releases. I promise to never use your email for any other reason or to sell it to anyone else.

Here’s the book description and excerpt from THREAD OF BETRAYAL, the third book in the Joe Tyler series by Jeff Shelby.

Joe Tyler is close to finding his daughter.

After a narrow miss in Minnesota, Joe follows a money trail to Denver, hoping to finally find Elizabeth, the daughter who was stolen from him nearly a decade earlier. Accompanied by his ex-wife Lauren, he enlists the reluctant help of Elizabeth’s friends, only to find that he’s missed her. Again.

Armed with new information, Joe races to California, desperate to find his daughter. Stymied by roadblocks and dead-ends, Joe soldiers on with his search, realizing there is more than a reunion at stake. He just might be saving his daughter’s life.

With time ticking and no clear answers in sight, Joe focuses on the one thing he’s always held on to – the thread of hope that he’ll finally reunite with his daughter and bring her back where she belongs.

Home.

ONE

Elizabeth was down there somewhere.

I focused on this as the plane began its descent. The snow-covered Rockies stood sentry out the window to our right, the city of Denver pocketed against them like a tiny winter village. The brilliant blue sky hung like a backdrop against the jagged mountain edges and the sun reflected off the wing of the plane, forcing me to squint into the early morning sunlight.

Lauren and I had driven straight to the airport after our visit with Rodney. Still reeling from the news he’d shared, we’d raced to ticketing, only to find there were no scheduled outbound flights to Colorado that evening. We’d been forced to wait until daybreak and had spent the night stretched out across several uncomfortable chairs, waiting at our gate. To the people around us, we probably looked like people who had missed their flight and were simply stuck waiting for the next one. But the truth was we were too impatient and didn’t dare leave the airport for fear of missing the earliest flight out.

Neither of us slept, but we didn’t really talk, either. We sat next to one another, both of us caught up in our own thoughts and worries. By the time they called our flight and we boarded, Lauren had collapsed from exhaustion and slept with her head on my shoulder the entire way. I’d stared out the window, waiting for us to get to right where we were, so I could look down and know that the daughter I hadn’t seen in eight years was down there somewhere.

Lauren stirred against my shoulder and lifted her head up. “We’re here?”

“Almost. Descending now.”

She straightened in her seat and ran a hand through her hair. Her auburn strands were mussed from sleep, her eyes half-lidded, and she stifled a yawn. “You sleep?”

“No.”

She tugged at the seatbelt across her lap. “I never understood how you could operate on so little sleep.”

“A gift.”

“Or a curse,” she said. She leaned across me to get a look out the window. “It’s pretty.”

I nodded. I’d been to Colorado twice before and both times were for fun. Once to ski when I’d been in college and once when I was a kid, a road trip stop on the way to visit relatives in Missouri. I didn’t remember much from the trip as a kid, but the college vacation was seared into my memory. We skied in T-shirts and drank beer on the outside deck, watching other skiers fly down the mountain. There were far worse places to spend the winter.

Lauren reached over and touched the window. “It’s cold. Even with all that sun.”

“Wait until we get out and you can’t breathe,” I said.

“Thin air?”

I nodded.

“Great.” She stared out the window, her fingers tracing an invisible pattern on the glass. “She’s down there, Joe. She’s down there.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

She moved her eyes from the window to me. “Are we going to find her?”

The landing gear kicked to life beneath us and the flight attendant announced our final descent as the plane leaned downward toward Denver.

“Yes,” I said. “We’re going to find Elizabeth.”