Anytime Darlin' (29 page)

Janice spoke without hesitation. “My mother claims she had a visitor two weeks ago. She claims it was William Franz.”

“That’s impossible.” Warden Jenkins laughed out loud now. “William Franz could not get into this prison to see your mother.”

“She claims,” Janice began, “she claims he signed in as my father.”

“He would need to show a photo ID. A driver’s license,” replied the warden.

“Could you please check?” asked Janice. “Because either my mother’s crazy or he’s back, and there are people he’ll go after. One in particular.”

The warden motioned to Officer Cotter. “Could you please pull up all the visitor logs for the past three weeks? Bring them up here as quickly as you can.”

* * * *

Janice sat, her mind racing, trying to figure out where Jake and Devlin might be. She wondered if it would be possible to reach Mike, but then she remembered that it looked like he was leaving on his honeymoon yesterday. Mary would know where to find them, but Mary hated her, especially now. Janice didn’t know if Mary would even take a call from her.

Officer Cotter returned with the logs. He and the warden began a systematic search, starting with the logs dated three weeks before.

“Here.” Officer Cotter pointed. “Right here, two weeks ago yesterday.”

Warden Jenkins held up the book. “Would you come over here, Miss Matheson?”

He showed her a signature. It read:
Benjamin Matheson
.

“That’s not my father’s signature,” Janice said without hesitation. “It’s close, but it’s not my father’s. Warden, not only is he my father, I’m a nurse, and I see his signature every single day on charts at the hospital. This is not his signature. Can we call him? Can we call him right now and ask him if he was here? It’s his golf day. If we call right now, we can catch him at home. Please.”

Warden Jenkins pushed the phone toward her. Janice dialed the number, putting the phone on speaker.

“Hello?” It was Cindy.

“Cindy, it’s Janice. I—”

“Oh, hi, Janice. I thought you were going to see your mother.”

“I am. Listen, Cindy, this is an emergency. Is my dad still there?”

“Yeah, he’s loading up his golf gear. You want me to get him?”

Janice heard her dad’s voice. It sounded like he was coming in from the garage.

“Dad, it’s Janice. I’m at the prison. The warden wants to speak with you.” Janice looked toward the warden.

“Dr. Matheson? This is Warden Bruce Jenkins. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

Her father’s voice boomed over the speaker, “What’s this all about?”

“Dr. Matheson, were you here to visit your ex-wife two weeks ago?”

“No, of course not. I’ve never been there. I haven’t seen her since she was taken out of the courtroom four and a half years ago.”

“But you’re on her list of approved visitors.”

“Only because my attorney told me it would be a good idea in case we had any difficulties with the divorce. I’ve never been there.” He was shouting now.

“Dad,” Janice interrupted, “Dad, listen to me. This is important. Where’s your driver’s license?”

“Your driver’s license.”

He hesitated. “I-I lost it. I don’t know when, maybe two, three weeks ago. And a credit card too. An American Express. Must have fallen out of my wallet or something. I don’t know where.”

“Did you report it missing?” asked the Warden. “Have you gotten a new driver’s license or called the credit card company to cancel it?”

“Cindy!” They heard her father yell. “Did you cancel that credit card?”

“No,” came Cindy’s voice, “I forgot. Do you want me to cancel it right now?”

“No,” said the warden, “don’t cancel it. Tell her not to cancel it. Do you have a copy of the credit card number? Do you have receipts?”

“No,” her dad yelled at Cindy, “don’t cancel the card.” He turned his mouth back to the receiver. “That’s Cindy’s department. She’d have the number and receipts. What’s going on?”

“Dad,” Janice said, “I think William Franz is back. I think he’s got your driver’s license, and he used it to visit mom here, two weeks ago. I bet he’s got your credit card too.”

“That fucking bastard!” her father yelled into the phone. “Goddamn son of a bitch has the nerve to show his face around here? After everything he did! Nearly destroyed my life, ruined my practice.”

“Dad,” Janice called to him, “Dad, calm down. There are people he hurt worse. People he can still hurt.”

“What do you want me to do?” her father asked. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you catch that bastard.”

“Dr. Matheson, I want you to stay put,” instructed Warden Jenkins. “Get that credit card number. I’m going to get in touch with the investigating officer and have her give you a call as soon as possible. If he’s using your credit card, she can trace him through those transactions. Sit tight. Someone will get back to you.”

“Thank you, Dad,” said Janice as the warden hung up. If her father replied, she couldn’t hear it.

Warden Jenkins opened a file cabinet and began to search for her mother’s file.

“It’s Detective Shauna Burke,” said Janice, “with the Denver police department. She was the investigating officer.”

Janice wrote down her father’s phone number and handed it to Officer Cotter.

“Go back to your mother, Miss Matheson,” advised the warden. “See if she’ll give you any more information. Anything she says might help us.”

Shauna’s phone rang. She looked up from the report she was writing.

“Detective Burke.” Listening for a few seconds, she reached for a notepad. She nodded, mumbled something unintelligible, and after a moment, began snapping her fingers in Scott’s direction. She pointed to her notepad. Scott took one look at the pad, strode to the file cabinet, and pulled the files from the William Franz case.

Photos,
Shauna mouthed. Scott thumbed through the file and pulled all the photos. Shauna continued to write and nod. Within five minutes, she’d finished her conversation and hung up the phone.

“Damn,” she said to Scott. “He’s back, and he’s been to see Rebecca Matheson at the prison, using her own ex-husband’s doctored driver’s license for ID. According to Warden Jenkins in Canon City, he was there two weeks ago yesterday. He’s got Ben Matheson’s credit card too. Lucky for us it hasn’t been cancelled yet.” She handed Scott the sheet with Dr. Matheson’s phone number written on it.

“I’m on it.” Grabbing the paper, Scott headed over to his desk.

“I’ve got to get out a photo and a description. According to the daughter, her mom says he’s thinner and graying, but we’re talking basically the same guy. Apparently, he took two hundred and fifty thousand dollars out of a safety deposit box at FirstBank in Colorado Springs last week. He and Bitsy stashed it away five years ago. Call the sheriff’s department down there. Have them send a car. They can see if anyone at the bank remembers anything.”

“What about Devlin Barre?” Scott asked. “Is she still in town?”

“As far as I know. I’ll send a couple of officers over to the hotel. I think she’s still staying there. They can pick her up and bring her here. I don’t want her on the street until he’s caught.” Shauna reached for the phone. “After you get moving on that credit card, touch base with the sheriff’s department in Pottawattamie County. Clue them in.”

An hour later, they had an up-to-date description of William Franz from the bank employee who’d assisted him. He’d flirted with her. Apparently, he’d lost weight. Dropped from one hundred and ninety pounds to about one seventy-five. According to the employee, a young woman, he was good-looking for a man in his early fifties. His thick, graying hair was cut short and brushed back. He was clean-shaven. The day she saw him, he wore a white button-down shirt and khaki trousers. No tie and no socks. She noticed that he wore brown slip-on loafers. She said his nails were neat, almost as if he’d had a manicure, and he wore a large ruby ring on the ring finger of his right hand. When asked about a vehicle, she stated she had no idea.

The check on the credit card had turned up some pretty specific information. Charges had been made in the past few weeks for clothes, shoes, toiletries. There were charges for a number of restaurants in the Denver area and a charge for several nights at a run-down motel. Though she knew in her gut he wouldn’t be there, Shauna sent two patrol cars to check it out and see if they could find anyone who could confirm the description given by the bank employee. She was waiting for another call from the credit card company as they continued their investigation. They were her best hope of tracing him.

The two officers she’d sent to the hotel to locate Devlin radioed in that she and Jake hadn’t been seen since the day before. As Shauna instructed, the officers insisted the manager unlock the door to their hotel room. They reported that all the luggage and clothing appeared to be there. The housekeeper claimed when she went in to make up the room early this morning, the bed hadn’t been slept in and no towels had been used. That had Shauna worried.

“What if we give Mike a call?” suggested Scott.

“He’s on his honeymoon in Hawaii,” she replied. “I have no idea how to reach him.”

Shauna’s phone rang. It was the credit card company. Benjamin Matheson had purchased an airplane ticket to Chicago four days ago. Last Friday night, he rented a car in Illinois, in the Quad Cities area. Early Saturday morning, he checked into a motel in Grinnell, Iowa.

“Scott, get over here!” she yelled in his direction. “Look at this!” She pointed at the list of credit card charges on her notepad.

“Call the sheriff’s department in Pottawattamie County and find out who covers Grinnell. Tell them to get someone out to this motel now. Make sure they know he’s probably armed. And call this rental car agency in Moline. Get a year, make, model, and license plate. Pass on the information ASAP.”

Shauna flipped quickly through the file. Somewhere she had Mary Workman’s home number. Devlin had lived with her for several months. She was pretty sure Mary was already on maternity leave. If anyone would know where Devlin and Jake were, it was Mary.

Chapter Thirteen

“Goddamn it!” William Franz rolled over in bed and looked at the clock. He’d overslept.

Who could blame him? After he sent Margie on her way, he’d been up half the night imagining everything he’d like to do to the little bitch Devlin, if he could get his hands on her. He crawled out of bed and headed into the bathroom. He’d have to hurry without drawing any attention to himself. At least he was confident Farmer Brown wouldn’t show up. For the past three days, he’d appeared at 5 p.m. on the dot. Franz shrugged. Well, that made it easier for him to do whatever the hell he wanted to do.

He showered, shaved, dressed, and packed. Then he checked out of the motel and drove away. He parked at the local supermarket between two full-size pickups. He grabbed a newspaper and walked over to the diner. Breakfast wouldn’t take long. He still had time to get over to Devlin’s. After last night, he didn’t expect her to be there, but he could destroy the place. Franz smiled to himself. That left him plenty of time to get to O’Hare and catch a 6 p.m. United flight to Toronto. Or rather, Benjamin Matheson would catch a flight to Toronto. Bitsy thought of everything. She was something. Or she used to be. Too bad she looked like a hag now. Well, Bill thought dismissively, prison would do that to you. He wasn’t worried about his rental car. He figured it could sit in long-term parking indefinitely. He laughed to himself. At O’Hare, it might sit there for years.

He drove down the highway, passing his turnoff a couple times, until he was certain there was no one around. When he felt the coast was clear, he pulled onto the graveled path. This time he drove farther in, parking behind a grove of trees. Before he locked up the car, he opened the trunk and pulled out the bolt cutters. They would be useful for breaking windows. Then he opened a small toiletry bag and removed a revolver. It was a Smith and Wesson, his favorite firearm. He’d picked it up at a gun show in Denver. Easy. Ben Matheson had a clean record. Bill checked to see that it was loaded, just in case Farmer Brown varied his routine. He tucked it into the back of his pants and closed the trunk.

Checking first for vehicles, he crossed the road ducking his head as he entered the cornfield. Devlin couldn’t have picked a better place to live. No visibility from the highway, no neighbors, no dogs, at least as far as he knew. It was as if she’d chosen the place just for him. Like she was taunting him, saying,
Come and get me.

Franz was about to walk right into Devlin’s front yard when he saw a car parked in her drive. He stopped in his tracks and backed into the tall green row of corn. He stood still and opened his mouth slightly, listening for any sound. There was none. Cautious, he checked every side of the house. Except for the black Toyota Celica and a pair of white sandals lying next to it, there was no sign of any living human being. Then he noticed the curtains. Aside from those in the kitchen, they were closed. Yesterday, they’d been open. Franz glanced at his watch. She probably got in late last night, and she was still asleep. Unbelievable! He must have just missed her!

Crouched over, he jogged to the front door and tried the knob. The door was locked. If he broke in, she might have time to call the cops. He wanted to avoid that. Franz looked toward the barn. Eventually she’d have to get up. That’s where he’d wait for her.

He walked to the barn. He removed the broken padlock he’d cut the day before and carefully slid the doors open. He left them wide open and dropped the pieces of the padlock just inside. She wouldn’t see that the lock had been cut until it was too late. Franz sat down in the shadows to the left of the doors. It was a sunny day. She’d be as blind as a bat when she stepped over the threshold. He smiled. Things were looking up.

Janice was on her way to Mary’s house, driving as fast as she dared. She assumed Shauna would try to find Devlin, but what if she couldn’t? It was Janice’s fault Devlin had run off yesterday. If she was alone, she was at risk. There was no way of knowing whether or not William Franz had been following her, waiting for an opportunity to pounce. Janice fought back a growing sense of panic. If he hurt Devlin, if he killed her, she was to blame. She’d never forgive herself. If Devlin had contacted anyone, it would be Mary. Janice had to know. She had to know where she was and if she was safe.