Sneaking Suspicions (The Tharon Trace Mysteries Book 1) (10 page)

Rounding the end of the aisle, she bumped into two cheerleaders who looked her up and down and giggled before turning away.  She felt her face burn with humiliation.  Even strangers thought she looked ugly.

Helm walked up behind her and whispered in her ear.  “How are we doing?”

She dumped her items into the basket.  “Pretty good.  We need some matches.”

“I saw some charcoal by the window, there might be matches over there.”  Helm walked by her side and whispered in her ear.  “They weren’t laughing at you.”

She looked at his face. “What?”

He tilted his head towards the two girls. “I heard them giggling about some cute guy they saw.”

Dread filled Tharon as she went up on her tiptoes and scanned the store.  Kaid hovered in the last aisle near the fresh doughnut case with his back to the clerk.  She snatched up a box of matches and said, “We better hurry.  The bus is leaving.”

She grabbed a permanent marker, two bags of beef jerky and several candy bars on her way to the cash register.  She motioned for Kaid to stay back when he took a step toward them.  She flinched when the tally took more than half of her Christmas money.

The attendant scanned her items and asked, “Will there be anything else?”

She looked around the counter. “Do you have any maps of Allen or Whitley Counties?”

His fleshy hands rummaged beneath the counter and came up with a black and white map. “This one’s on the house.  The towing company that printed it for advertising has gone out of business.”

Tharon handed him the money. “Thanks.”

Once the money was safely in the register, the attendant said, “You kids better hurry, it looks like your bus is getting ready to leave.”

Tharon stuffed the map in one of the bags and they rushed out the door.  She glanced at the puzzled look on the attendant’s face as she rounded the corner and hoped he would think they were running to use the restroom and not figure out who they were before they had a chance to get away.

Tharon ripped open the marker and stopped to draw an arrow on the side of the building. “Why didn’t you wait outside?”

Kaid’s face turned crimson in the pale streetlights.  “Because two cheerleaders scared me half to death when they came around the back of the station to smoke a cigarette.”

Tharon chuckled. “I guess what the other girls say is true.”

Kaid wrinkled his brow. “What do they say?”

She grinned. “That you’re a chick magnet.”

CHAPTER 11

Dana found a semi-quiet corner of the station and called Simon.  When his face appeared on her phone screen, she ignored her fluttering heart and said, “Sheriff, Max thinks he has a lead on the kidnappers.  Burt Payne has a used car dealership in Fort Wayne that uses a rattlesnake logo.  He thinks Burt’s brother, Carl, might be the big man with him.”

“Good.  The Fort Wayne PD can pick them up for us.”

Dana grimaced. “There’s a bit of a problem.  The Fort Wayne PD are dragging their feet to cooperate because the Payne brothers are also volunteers for their police department,” she took a deep breath.  “Max has a lead, well, more of a hunch, that he wants me to help him check out and he wanted me to clear it with you.  I also thought it would be a good idea to take Tom Trace along.  If the children aren’t there he might be able to tell if they were and where they went.”

The edges of Simon’s eyes crinkled as he asked, “And
you’re
asking instead of Max because...?”

Dana felt her face flush and cursed the technology that enabled Simon to see her pink cheeks.  “Because we’re going to be out of uniform and we’ll be checking out a property on Lake Avenue in Fort Wayne.”

Simon’s eyes softened as he lowered his voice. “Dana, be careful.  Do what you have to do.  If you run into trouble you’re operating under my direct orders.  I’ll take any flack that comes our way.  Don’t let Tom go after the Payne brothers.  If it was them, we want to build a solid case and don’t want them to get off on some technicality.  And we don’t want them killing Tom.  Get those kids and bring them home.”

“Yes, sir.”  She hung up the phone.

Warmth flooded her chest and she whispered, “He called me Dana.”  She shook her head and muttered to herself, “Head out of the clouds, Donovan.  Focus on your job and stop acting like a schoolgirl.”

Penni walked up behind her. “Did you say something?”

Dana jumped. “Uh, no.  Would you let Max know Simon—I mean the Sheriff, gave the okay to his plan and I’m going home to change.  He can pick me up there.”

Penni tried to keep a straight face.  “You run along.  I’ll give him your message.”

***

Simon held his phone a full minute after Dana disconnected and stared at the body in the morgue.  Why did he feel like he was standing on pins and needles?  He cleared the cobwebs from his brain.  Still looking at the body, he asked Dr. Nelson, the Medical Examiner, “Do we have an ID on the victim yet?”

Dr. Nelson touched the flat plexi-screen on the desk which lit up with the victim’s face on the screen.  With a quick swipe the image became suspended on the glass window overlooking the hallway.  “William Silar, aka Bill Silas, aka Wil Silar.  Something’s screwy about this guy.  Not ten minutes after I ran his prints I got a call from the Governor’s office to keep them informed of all evidence pertaining to this case.  Seems kind of strange the order didn’t come from the BCI or the Indiana Department of Homeland Security.  Anyway, his prints were flagged.”

“Know anything else about him?”

The coroner’s fingers flew over the surface with practiced ease splashing files onto the wall.  “I just glanced over it.  He was a pretty unsavory character.  He got nabbed red-handed about eleven years ago in a bank robbery that resulted in the death of three people.  It should have been death or at least a life sentence.  That case was sealed and there’s nothing much since then.  Help yourself to the entire file.”  He spread his finger tips on the center of the table and pinched them together in one swift motion.  The data splashed back onto the table screen and shrank to the size of a quarter.

Simon pulled a digital bridge—a paper thin clear plastic card the size of a driver’s license—from a slot in the back of his phone.  He touched the corner of the film over the image, which instantly appeared on the film then shrank to the size of a period.  He tucked the film back into the slot, “Thanks.  Have you found anything to indicate where he came from?”

“He’s got grease stains on his fingers, fingernails and clothes so it’s a safe bet he worked in the auto field on the old style gasoline powered or hybrid models.  It’s not much, but it’s a start.”

“More than a start.” Simon was grateful the information helped justify Max and Dana’s investigation in Fort Wayne.  “Thanks again and let me know what else you find.”

Simon called Max as soon as he stepped outside the hospital.  Max’s face appeared on his phone screen with the Sheriff’s department in the background.  “The identity of our victim is one William Silar.  His prints were flagged so try to see what you can find out about him while you’re in Fort Wayne.  I transferred his file to the office with the digital bridge.”

“Will do.  Hold on and I’ll see if I’ve got it,” Max said.

After a few moments he said, “I’ve got the file.”

Simon rubbed his jaw. “Might be a good idea if you use Nora’s car.  The keys are in my desk.  It doesn’t have any official logo or plates on it.”

Max moved into Simon’s office and found the keys.  “Got them.  Anything else?”

Simon scratched his chin. “Yeah.  Take care of Dana.  I don’t know why but I’m edgy about her going along on this.”

Max chuckled. “You don’t know why?  You’re a bright boy, I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually.  I just hope you do before some young buck sweeps her up for himself.”

Max disconnected leaving Simon standing in the middle of the parking lot with his mouth open.

A man’s deep voice behind him drew Simon out of his thoughts. “Sheriff Ellis?”

Simon spun around, his hand on the gun at his side.

The man in a leather jacket held his palms out in front of him. “Whoa, I didn’t mean to startle you.  I’m from Governor Talbot’s office.  I need to talk to you.  Can we take a little walk?  And please leave your phone and all electronic devices in your vehicle.”

***

Dana pulled into the drive of her ranch style house.  The mums she’d planted around the front porch were dying back, giving the little home a barren loneliness that matched the interior.  She put off going inside a little longer by calling Tom while still sitting in her cruiser.

He picked up on the first ring.  “Hello?”

She knew he was hoping she had some good news for him.  She played briefly with the temptation of telling him Shep was still alive but decided against it.  “Tom, this is Deputy Donovan—Dana—did you find anything downstream?”

Tom said, “No.  We followed the creek for more than a mile and there was nothing.”

Dana took a deep breath. “I hate to get your hopes up but Max Stephens and I are going into Fort Wayne to check out a lead.  We were wondering if you’d like to come along and maybe help look for signs that the children were there.  I want to emphasize this is only a hunch and we’ve received no word of the children being there.”

He didn’t hesitate.  “Where do you want me to meet you?”

Dana was distracted by her interaction with Simon and without thinking she rattled off her home address.  She rolled her eyes at her breach in security.  She’d never let a civilian know her address before.  In fact having Max meet her here was also a first—the first time anyone had been to her house.  Maybe that was why she gave Tom her address; she lacked practice in keeping it private because no one cared enough to ask for it.

She grabbed her mail from the cluster of mailboxes at the curb and hurried inside to change.  The empty house was comfortable, but its furnishings were sparse and bland.  No pictures on the mantle, nothing on the table or stands, no knick knacks.  The only thing hanging on the walls was a musical clock she’d bought at a craft fair on the only vacation she’d ever taken.

Simon had insisted she take a long week after two years of volunteering for every overtime and holiday that came up.  She traveled alone to Brown County for the fall colors, which were late that year—she missed them entirely.  She stayed alone in a dingy motel; ate alone in restaurants where she felt hopelessly out of place among the happy couples and boisterous families; perused alone the shops and craft booths.

In one of the specialty shops she found the most magnificent clocks she’d ever seen.  Every time a clock chimed the hour, gears opened around the face of the clock and played wonderful lilting melodies.  The clock she picked played a different tune each hour.  It cost her a half month’s pay.  She argued with herself about the cost but since there was no one else in her life who objected, she gave up and bought it.

On the plus side it gave her a story to tell about her vacation.

When she got home she looked for the perfect spot for the clock and finally settled on the living room wall above the lumpy thrift shop sofa.  She felt good about her purchase, in fact it made her feel better about her home—until she tried to get to sleep the first night.  The first two chimes made her smile, by the third she was counting how many hours of sleep she’d lost.  By the sixth chime she got up and removed the batteries.  She’d resolved to never again take another vacation.

Dana dressed quickly in jeans, and put on her snug white tactical shirt, complete with built in holster.  Next she pulled on a loose-fitting, light-weight, powder blue sweater, and a black leather jacket that she’d bought specifically to help conceal her guns.  Style might dictate wearing fashion boots or even high heels with her outfit but she opted for her favorite running shoes instead.

A glance in the mirror told her she still looked like a cop out of uniform.  She pulled the low ponytail holder out of her hair, dug through the shelf of styling products she constantly purchased but rarely used, and selected one.  She squeezed a quarter sized dollop of product on her palm, rubbed her palms together and worked the styling cream through her thick brown hair.  She breathed in the tropical scent reminiscent of hot beaches and vibrant flowers which she’d never seen.  Her long brown hair fell about her shoulders in thick waves.

She opened the vanity drawer and fished all the way to the back of it to find her makeup bag—a plastic sandwich bag holding mascara, two shades of lipstick and a small bottle of liquid foundation.  She applied just enough foundation to even out the tones of her translucent skin.  A few strokes with the mascara brush brought new vigor to her tired brown eyes.  The rich wine colored lipstick made her lips appear fuller but left the tones of the rest of her face flat.  She dabbed a little of the lipstick on her cheekbones and smoothed it in.

Her image in the mirror no longer screamed cop out of uniform.  Instead she saw the hint of the woman she used to be and decided, at twenty-five, it was time to stop living like her job was her life and start having a life.  Without being sure what that meant, she determined to figure it out after she found the children.  Her mind wandered to Shep lying in the pet hospital.  Perhaps she’d start by getting a dog.

She slipped her Sig Saur into the holster tucked under her left breast.  She liked the shirt because the position of the holster left her arms unobstructed for running.  She threaded her belt into the tabs of her jeans and clipped the custom holster for her Glock above her right hip.  Both guns used interchangeable 357 Sig magazines; she tucked four magazines into the custom pockets she’d sewn into the inside of the jacket.

A final check in the mirror assured her the guns were well hidden beneath the jacket.

She’d barely finished changing when the doorbell rang.  Tom stood on her front porch wearing a heavy jacket, open to his waist, and had a backpack slung over his shoulder.  Instead of coveralls he wore blue jeans and a heavy sweater over a collared shirt.  His hair was damp under a clean red baseball cap and the earlier odor of manure was replaced with the fresh scent of soap.

He fidgeted from one foot to the other and shoved his hands into his jeans pockets.

She raised an eyebrow at him.  “You made it here rather quickly?”

He looked down at his hiking boots.  “I didn’t exactly follow the speed limit.” He tilted his head toward the motorcycle parked next to her cruiser in the drive.

Max turned onto her street and parked in front of her house.  He drove Simon’s unmarked sedan instead of his truck.  He jogged to the front porch and turned to Tom. “What are you carrying?”

Tom reached under his jacket and pulled a Glock from a shoulder holster and handed it to Max.  He took a card from his wallet. “Here’s my conceal carry permit.” 

Dana asked Max, “How did you know he was carrying?”

Max handed the gun and permit back to Tom.  “Someone comes on my property, kills my dog and takes my daughter—I’m not looking for him armed with flowers.”  He turned to Tom. “That being said, I expect that gun to remain holstered at all times unless Dana or I instruct you otherwise.  If we run across the suspects you are to remain absolutely silent.  We don’t want you to do anything that might jeopardize finding the children and getting a conviction.  Do you agree?”

Tom nodded.  “I just want my daughter home safe.”