Читать книгу Cold Case at Carlton's Canyon - Rita Herron - Страница 11

Chapter Four

Amanda silently chided herself. She shouldn’t have blurted out that comment about being able to do her job.

But Sergeant Thorpe’s—Justin’s—suggestion that they use first names felt somehow intimate. Friendly.

Tempting.

Because he was the first man she’d met in years that made her want to forget her vow to not get involved with a coworker.

But doing so would mean losing his respect.

And holding on to her respect was all she had. She’d had her heart broken too many times to trust it to someone again.

Her own mother had left her father because she’d said he was married to the job.

Amanda was like her father—married to the job, too.

Justin phoned his superior to request phone records for Kelly, her father, her fiancé and her ex-boyfriend, then disconnected.

“Your father was a Texas Ranger, wasn’t he?”

His question took her by surprise. “How did you know?” Had he researched her?

“I saw his photo on the wall at the central office. He was a hero.”

She focused back on the road to keep her emotions at bay. He’d been gone for five years, but his death had left a hole in her heart. “Yeah, he was.”

“He died saving a little boy?”

She nodded, proud of her dad. Yet his death had left her alone.

Still, she had to understand his devotion. She was just as dedicated to the job as he had been. In fact, she’d always wanted to be just like him.

But she didn’t want to talk about personal things, especially her own life, with Justin. So she remained silent as she turned onto the highway leading to Kelly Lambert’s apartment.

She parked in front of the complex and searched the numbers. Then she and Justin walked up to the door together. Fisher had already arrived, and he let them in, his expression guarded.

“I don’t know what you think you’ll find here,” he said. “But go ahead and look around.”

Amanda noticed boxes stacked everywhere. “You were moving?”

Fisher nodded. “We bought a house near my new job. The movers were supposed to come tomorrow.” His voice cracked. “We wanted to get moved in before the wedding. I was supposed to start work the day after we returned from the honeymoon.”

He ran his hand over one of the unclosed boxes, which held kitchenware, looking lost for a moment as if he didn’t know what to do.

Justin cleared his throat. “Where’s Kelly’s computer?”

Fisher gestured toward an oak desk in the corner, and Justin addressed Amanda. “I’ll take a look at it if you want to search the place.”

She agreed and started in the kitchen while he slid onto the desk chair and booted up Kelly’s laptop.

Fisher paced for a minute, then seemed startled when his phone jangled. “It’s my new boss,” he said before stepping onto the back patio to take the call.

Amanda opened kitchen cabinet doors, noting they were empty, then checked the drawers. Kelly must have already packed up all the silverware and kitchen supplies. She scanned the counters, finding a bottle opener and a basket with a couple of envelopes inside.

A power bill and a bank statement. She pulled out the statement and skimmed the summary of transactions. The grocery store, household bills, a payment to the florist and wedding caterer made two days before, all signs Kelly had planned to go through with the wedding.

Her account still held five thousand dollars, not enough money to warrant anyone kidnapping her for it. Then again, Kelly’s father was the one with the big bucks.

Satisfied the kitchen held no answers, she headed toward the couple’s bedroom, but the refrigerator caught her eye. A magnet held Kelly’s wedding invitation. Beside it, she noticed the invitation to the high school reunion.

The reunion was the week before Kelly’s wedding. The timing meant that a lot of Kelly’s friends would be in town. That is, if she still kept up with them.

Unlike her, Kelly had been a popular girl.

Moving on, she stepped into the bedroom. An eight-by-ten of Kelly and Fisher sat atop the dresser, the couple embracing for a romantic kiss. Both looked completely happy and in love.

More boxes were stacked on the floor. Most of the dresser drawers were empty, but when she opened the closet door, she found a long white satin wedding gown hanging inside. Pearl buttons ran down the back to the waist, where the gown flared with yards of organza and lace.

It was a beautiful dress; Kelly would have been a beautiful bride.

Had her life been cut short?

So far, her fiancé and father’s stories held up. She wanted to talk to Kelly’s girlfriends next. They might be able to shed some light on whether or not Fisher or Kelly’s father should be considered suspects.

If they were innocent, she couldn’t afford to waste too much time on them. Every minute she did meant whoever had taken Kelly was getting away.

If the same person who’d abducted the other missing girls had abducted Kelly, what was the reason? How was he choosing his victims?

Studying victimology could help her find answers.

Her cell phone buzzed, and she saw it was her deputy, Joe Morgan, so she snatched it up. “Hey, Joe, what’s up?”

“I got your message and will look into the bank angle. But I found Kelly Lambert’s car.”

“Where?”

“Off of Old River Mill Road.”

Amanda held her breath. “Was Kelly in it?”

“No,” Deputy Morgan said. “The car had nosedived into a ditch. There are skid marks on the road as if another car ran her off the road.”

Possibly a hit and run? “I’ll call a crime unit to lift the tire prints.”

“I’ll wait here for them. By the way, Kelly’s car is red, but I noticed pewter gray paint on the side. I’ll have them take samples of the paint, too.”

“Good work, Deputy. Did you search the area for Kelly? Maybe it was a hit and run and she’s lying hurt nearby?”

“I already looked. She’s not here, Sheriff. But I found a blood trail leading from Kelly’s car to the edge of the road.”

Amanda’s lungs constricted. So Kelly was hurt.

If the driver had forced Kelly to go with him, where was she now?

* * *

JUSTIN SEARCHED KELLY’S computer, first skimming her emails, but nothing stuck out. Some were personal correspondence with friends, excited chatter about the upcoming wedding, which confirmed Fisher’s story that Kelly still planned to marry him. Other notes were to vendors finalizing arrangements for the ceremony and reception. The emails were dated the day before Kelly disappeared, also confirming that she didn’t have plans to run away or cancel the wedding.

A note from someone named Eleanor Goggins asked if she was going to attend their high school reunion. Two others girls, Anise Linton and Mona Pratt, had joined that discussion, all commenting on how much fun it would be to get the old crowd back together again.

He checked Kelly’s financial records. Her account was stable, most transactions relating to household bills and payments to vendors. A large deposit had been added a week before from her father, which was probably meant to cover wedding costs. But nothing out of the ordinary.

He checked her browser history and found wedding decoration and planning sites, then noted she’d researched teaching positions and had sent applications to three different schools in Austin.

All confirmed Fisher’s story.

Next he examined her social media sites. She was on Twitter, Facebook, Goodreads and Pinterest. He took a few minutes to skim her posts and discovered she liked mystery books and classics, and she tweeted and wrote Facebook posts about her job search and upcoming nuptials. Photos of her and Raymond filled her Facebook page: shots of them at college football games, hiking and sipping drinks on a beach vacation trip and engagement pictures taken at a mountain cabin.

Nothing suspicious. In fact, everything supported Fisher’s and Lambert’s story.

Amanda appeared from the bedroom, her expression troubled.

“What?” he asked.

She glanced at the patio and seemed to be relieved that Fisher was outside. “My deputy called. He found Kelly’s car.”

Justin arched a brow. “Where?”

“Out on Old River Mill Road.” She lowered her voice. “It appears someone ran her off the road. Deputy Morgan found blood on Kelly’s seat and paint from another car on her Toyota.”

Justin’s jaw tightened. “Someone intentionally ran her off the road, then abducted her?”

“That’s what it looks like. I’d like to go out to the site and see for myself.”

“Do you know what kind of car hit her?”

She shook her head. “No idea of the make and model yet, but it was pewter gray. Hopefully the crime team can tell us more from the paint sample.”

“What kind of car does Fisher drive?”

“A black Lexus. There was a picture of him and Kelly washing it.” Amanda’s expression softened. “They were laughing, covered in soap bubbles.”

He closed the laptop. “I didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. Let’s go see her car, then we’ll question the ex-boyfriend. If he drives a gray car, he might be our perp.”

Justin’s nerves jangled. He hoped to hell the ex was the man they were looking for. They might have a chance of getting Kelly back.

If not, she might disappear for months or years...or forever...like some of the other victims. And her father and fiancé might never know what happened to her.

* * *

AMANDA AND JUSTIN left with a word to Fisher that they’d keep him updated. Without even discussing the situation, they silently agreed not to tell him about finding Kelly’s car.

“What kind of car does Mr. Lambert drive?” Justin asked as Amanda drove toward Old River Mill Road.

“A silver Mercedes.”

“So far, Fisher and Lambert’s stories hold up.”

A sense of trepidation overcame Amanda. The image of Kelly’s wedding dress hanging in the closet taunted her. Poor Kelly...she had been excited about her wedding.

And now it may never happen....

Night shadows hovered along the road, a breeze stirring the dead leaves and blowing them across the road like tumbleweed. Everything was dry this time of year, the temperature chilly.

Deserted land and cacti sprang up, making her wonder why Kelly would have been driving out on Old Mill River Road. Where had she been going?

Had she been planning to meet someone? If so, whom?

And why out here in the middle of nowhere?

Amanda wound down the road, noting signs for rental cabins along the creek a few miles to the north, but spotted her deputy’s car ahead and pulled over.

“Why was she out here?” Justin asked as he climbed out.

She grabbed two flashlights, tossed him one, then retrieved her camera and a crime kit. “I was thinking the same thing.” She spotted the red Toyota down in the ditch. Her deputy walked toward them along the side of the road. “How did you find the car?” she asked.

“Tracked her cell phone.” Deputy Morgan held it up in his gloved hand. “Battery was low but it was still on.”

“Did you check her call history?” Amanda asked.

Deputy Morgan glanced at the Ranger, then at her, and Amanda realized she hadn’t introduced them. She quickly covered the bases and tugged on gloves

“Did you get anything from the phone?” Justin asked.

“Her last call was to a girl named Anise yesterday about ten a.m. After that, there were dozens of messages from the father and fiancé.”

Amanda took the phone and clicked to listen to a couple. Each message sounded more frantic and panicked. “Fisher and Lambert both sound worried,” she said.

“What about texts?” Justin asked.

Amanda checked the text log. “There’s a couple from Fisher. He sounds more and more anxious as the night wore on.”

“Fits with what they told us,” Justin commented.

She continued to scroll backward. “Wait a minute. There’s one here that came in yesterday about nine a.m. It’s from someone named Hailey. She asked Kelly to meet her at the cabins I saw on that rental sign. Something about a surprise for her fiancé.”

“We need talk to her. She may have had the last communication with Kelly.”

Amanda handed him the phone. “You want to call the tech team and have them trace that text?”

“Sure.” He glanced at the deputy. “Did you call a crime team in?”

The deputy nodded. “They should be here any minute.”

Amanda tried to recall if there had been a girl named Hailey in their graduating class, but couldn’t remember one. Maybe Kelly had met her at college instead of in Sunset Mesa. Or maybe she was a real-estate developer or event planner.

She shone her flashlight along the road as she followed the deputy, her heart hammering when he pointed out the blood trail near the car. Determined not to miss anything, she snapped photos of the car and surrounding area.

The driver’s door was open, the front window and bumper smashed, the weeds and brush crushed from the weight of footsteps—or a body.

Blood dotted the front seat and was splattered against the steering wheel.

But there was no sign of Kelly anywhere.

Except for her purse. It had fallen onto the floor, probably from the impact. Kelly’s lipstick, wallet and compact, along with other miscellaneous items, had spilled across the mat.

Amanda picked up the wallet and looked inside. Driver’s license and credit cards intact. Fifty dollars.

Not a robbery.

A cold chill swept over Amanda.

Judging from the blood on the seat, Kelly was injured. Although the amount of blood didn’t suggest there was enough blood loss to kill her.

But since had been injured, she’d been easy prey, too weak to fight off a kidnapper or escape.