Читать книгу Manhunt - Tyler Snell Anne - Страница 9
ОглавлениеRichard took them west on Highway 20, following the slight curve of the two-lane until they passed Tipsy’s Gas & Grill on the left. Sophia was surprised at the appearance of “One of the Best Eats in Culpepper” gas station/eatery. It was bigger than she had imagined—the original convenience store attached to another building, twice its size. She didn’t know if it was the city girl in her, but she hadn’t expected it to look as cozy as it did. Her stomach growled at the idea of Tipsy’s advertised fried shrimp. The last thing she had eaten was a granola bar the night before.
They drove a few miles past Tipsy’s before Richard turned on his blinker and pulled to the shoulder. Thatcher followed, the moment of vulnerability on Sophia’s part gone. Why had she given him so much detail about Lisa and herself? Why did he need to know about their childhood or the fact that a part of her had started to resent Lisa? Maybe it was sleep deprivation. She hadn’t been able to sleep all that well since Richard had called.
That was it. She’d blame it on that and not the mysterious man next to her.
Richard pointed at the tall grass a few feet from the road. They followed him, examining the area around it for something he might have missed. There was nothing.
“I’m going to call over a car and have them sweep farther back.” Thatcher walked to his truck and pulled out the radio to make the call. Sophia and Richard kept to the grass.
“I’m sorry,” he said, using his foot to move some rocks around. If it was meant to make him look vulnerable, it wasn’t working. “I should have kept you updated. I was too caught up in finding her.”
“You should have called the cops.”
“Sophia, just because I chose not to call them doesn’t mean I didn’t have people looking for her.”
“You mean the private investigators?”
“They aren’t the only ones.”
Sophia gave him a questioning look.
“I’m a very wealthy man with a lot of friends. I have contacts that operate outside of the police purview.” He turned his body so his back was facing the cars. “I know people who don’t get stopped by red tape.”
“What does that mean?”
“Cops sometimes slow down investigations.”
“I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.” Sophia crossed her arms over her chest. The tip of her heels sunk into the ground. “You don’t want the cops looking for Lisa because you have ‘friends’?”
He made a frustrated noise.
“I’m just saying, there are reasons why I didn’t call the police in the first place.”
“You said you didn’t call because you thought she just ran off?” A feeling of alarm was starting to rise within her. “Are you saying you knew she didn’t just leave?”
There was the underlying implication again. A man with that much money, good looks and charm—though she didn’t see it—could get away with a lot. If he had “friends” like he claimed, couldn’t he use them to help him... Help him what? Dispose of Lisa?
Just thinking it sent a chill through Sophia.
“No, it’s just— We were so happy, Sophia. I didn’t think she just left.”
Sophia dropped down to a whisper, eyeing Thatcher’s back as he talked to the dispatcher.
“You lied to us,” she said in a rush.
“I didn’t lie. There was a moment where I wondered if she had gone on her own accord but, you know your sister, she wouldn’t do that.” She felt her defenses flare—of course she knew her sister. Even though they had grown apart didn’t mean she had forgotten her.
“So, who are these friends of yours? Where are they?”
“All you need to know is that they are doing whatever they need to do to find Lisa.” He stopped there and didn’t make any sign of elaborating other than maybe using the whole “I’ve already said too much” excuse for keeping silent. In his black suit, the sun shining bright around them, Richard Vega looked a lot more threatening than he had in his home. He was shorter than Thatcher but had a solid body frame with muscles hidden beneath his custom-made suit, a gift from his personal trainer no doubt. Sophia wasn’t a string bean or anything. She had muscles, too. They were just a little harder to see. Work had become hectic in the past two years. Going to the gym had been low on her priority list. That didn’t mean she was completely defenseless.
Now, standing so close to a man she hardly knew but was admitting freely that he had connections that didn’t pay heed to law enforcement, she was second-guessing if she could really hold her own and defend herself if needed.
Maybe her face showed the new sense of trepidation she was feeling. Thatcher tilted his head slightly to the side when their eyes met. His own expression was heavily guarded.
“A car should be here soon. They’ll sweep this area again and then go farther back, just to make sure,” he said. “If there’s anything out here, they’ll find it.”
He brought his gaze to Richard now. There was no mistaking he was in detective mode—his feet spread apart, his back straight as a board, determination seeping through his stance.
“Now,” he went on, “I’m going to have to ask you to come down to the station, Mr. Vega.”
Richard seemed taken aback. Anger flashed across his face.
“I’ve already told you everything. Shouldn’t we be using our time more wisely?”
Thatcher crossed his arms. Sophia couldn’t help but think about how handsome he was in that moment. No-nonsense, authoritative, and all wrapped within a rock-hard body. She would have liked to meet Braydon Thatcher under different circumstances.
“Richard, I’m not giving you a choice. You’re coming to the station.” Thatcher pointed to his sports car. “The only decision you have to make is which car you ride in to get there.”
Sophia rode with Thatcher again as they went back to the station. Richard had opted to ride in his car, barely keeping his cursing below his breath, while the detective had spent a good five minutes once again warning him against fleeing.
“Are you going to arrest him?” Sophia asked as soon as they pulled onto the highway.
“Yes.”
“Why? Can you do that?” Sophia asked, adjusting the air so that it was blowing on her face again. Florida heat didn’t agree with her. Thatcher’s teeth ground together, his jaw muscles clenching. Whatever he had learned had upped his aggravation level exponentially.
“We just got word that a colleague of Vega’s has been going around asking people about Lisa, using the man’s name as an unofficial police badge.” He turned to her, nostrils flared. “That’s impeding an investigation.”
Sophia jumped up and down in her seat once. It caught Thatcher off guard but she didn’t care. She repeated her recent conversation with Vega. It didn’t improve his mood. When they pulled into the station’s parking lot, he turned to her with a silent ferocity.
“I want you to go in there and answer every question we have about your sister.” Having been given the instruction made her want to run the other way, but she knew it had to be done. “And, Sophia.” He grabbed her hand. “I swear to you that I’ll find your sister and bring her back safely.”
The station seemed to stand at attention when Richard Vega walked in with Thatcher close behind, watching with expressions of interest mixed with disbelief. Even Cara looked up from her computer as the two men marched into the interrogation room.
Sophia wanted to follow them but doubted Richard would say anything else without an attorney—one dressed to the nines and with a bank statement that would be too good for the town of Culpepper. She instead was guided into Thatcher’s office where she sat with a sigh. Back to the drawing board, she thought, crossing her legs like the dignified woman she hoped she appeared to be.
“Give us a minute,” Detective Langdon said, popping out of the room before she could object. It wasn’t as if she had any pressing matters to deal with or anything. Just because she had bonded with Thatcher during their field trip didn’t mean her impatience would keep its head down. She waited for a few minutes, with tried calmness, until only Thatcher breezed in.
His thick eyebrows were furrowed—his lips thinned in contained anger. He sat down behind his desk and ran a hand through the dark mass of hair. The obvious frustration he was feeling put Sophia further on edge.
“Well?” she prompted. “What did Richard have to say?”
“That he won’t say anything else until his attorney arrives.” Well, she called that one. “But, I hadn’t expected anything different. With the amount of money that man has, I’m surprised he even talked to us as much as he did.” A sigh rumbled out.
“So, what now? Do you want me to go talk to him? I can try to—”
Thatcher held up his hand to silence her.
“Right now you need to answer some questions about your sister.”
“Fine.”
They were able to slip into the civil roles of detective and citizen as Thatcher asked a series of questions that would help him form a “psychological profile” on Lisa. Even though they believed Lisa hadn’t disappeared on her own accord, Thatcher had to still get a feel for the woman’s mental and emotional states as well as any health issues she might be experiencing. Sophia did her best to answer each question in an objective manner, but, the truth was, she couldn’t be sure how happy Lisa had been before the disappearance. Nor could she tell the man in full confidence that her sister had been upset.
“In general Lisa has always been an optimist,” she confessed. “She always smiled and had something nice to say growing up—compliments on the tip of her tongue at all times. It’s part of the reason why she charms everyone she meets.” Thatcher raised an eyebrow but lowered it before she continued. “Like I said before, the times I did talk with her she seemed genuinely happy while here in Culpepper.”
“Was there a particular reason she moved to Culpepper?” Sophia sent him a questioning look. “I only ask because you said the two of you were very close until this past year.”
A smile crept across her lips before she could stop it.
“Her moving to Culpepper had nothing to do with our relationship. Lisa and I were the best of friends—annoyingly inseparable.” Sophia hesitated on the past tense and sobered. “But Lisa hated Atlanta. I couldn’t blame her for leaving. She was passing through Culpepper on the way to a wedding almost two years ago when she said she fell in love with the town. She moved a few months later.”
“And you didn’t follow?”
“No, but she tried really hard to get me to.” Lisa had in fact boxed up Sophia’s room while she’d been at work. She’d just smiled when Sophia had started yelling.
I’m not moving, Lisa!
Why not? Your stuff is already packed! she’d reasoned. Sophia had found it annoying then, but now she couldn’t stop the ache in her heart.
“I don’t blame her,” Thatcher said under his breath.
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, I meant I don’t blame her for not liking the city. I’m not a big fan, either,” he said with conviction.
“It’s not too bad,” Sophia defended. “It can be lonely at times and the traffic leaves more to be desired, but the opportunities are great.”
“Lonely, huh? I take it you aren’t married, then.” It wasn’t a question and his eyes stayed down on his notes. Sophia picked at invisible lint on her pant leg and tried to keep her voice even.
“Not that it matters to this investigation but, no, I’m single.” A blush rose fast to her cheeks. Thatcher looked up. She had only meant to say she wasn’t married, not divulge that she was single and had bouts of loneliness.
“What about you?” Sophia wanted to stick her head in the sand. She had blurted the question in an attempt to save face. She had to give it to the detective, he answered without skipping a beat.
“No, I’m not married. Now, are there any health issues Lisa has that we should be worried about?” The change in subjects left her speechless for a moment, but still able to feel the heat in her cheeks, she finished the rest of his questions without any more awkward outbursts.
“The other two women who are missing...” she started after he closed his notebook.
“Amanda and Trixie.”
“Are their families being asked the same questions?”
Thatcher nodded.
“Amanda’s mother and Trixie’s boss are in the other rooms with Tom and Cara.” His cell phone started to vibrate against the desktop. The noise made Sophia jump. He didn’t notice as he read the message.
“What happens now that I’ve answered your questions?”
“Now we are going to go to each missing woman’s house and place of work.” He stood and stretched, his biceps rippling at the motion.
“All right.” She started to stand but he stopped her.
“By ‘we’ I mean Detective Langdon and myself. You can’t come this time and that’s final.”
“Then what do you want me to do? Sit here and twiddle my thumbs?”
“We have an all-points bulletin out on all three women. We have good men and women on the job, Miss Hardwick. You need to stay out of Lisa’s house until we’re done with the search but after that you can go wherever you please. There’s a diner down the road that has a great dinner special or you can stay here until we’re done with each search. It’s really up to you at this point.”
Sophia chewed the inside of her lip. Thatcher took her silence as compliance.
“I’ll let you know when we’re done at Lisa’s.”
The detectives left soon after while Sophia remained behind. She wanted to snoop to fill the void of helplessness within her but decided against it—she was in a police station after all. Cara, as she was told once again to call the officer, showed her to the restroom and then the break room. Unlike the many cop-related clichés found on TV, there were no doughnuts or cream-filled pastries. Instead she walked a block over and ate a burger at Sal’s Diner, all the while fighting the heat and humidity. Worry had taken her healthy eating habits and thrown them clear out the window. The walk back was more sluggish but she couldn’t deny she felt better having eaten.
An unfamiliar car was parked two spots next to her own when she rounded the station, though it didn’t take long for her to guess it belonged to Richard’s attorney. The BMW was black and slick and probably worth more than she made in two years. She hurried inside to see the new suit but was stopped by another man she hadn’t seen until now.
“Miss Hardwick,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Captain Jake Westin.” They shook—his hands were rough and large.
“Nice to meet you, sir.” The man wasn’t much taller than Sophia, but he exuded authority through his uniform and impeccable posture. She placed his age in the upper fifties.
“I wanted to let you know that we’re doing everything we can and we’ll find your sister.” His small smile wasn’t charming but it was infused with confidence. She nodded and thanked him. “I’m afraid I can’t talk long. I have a meeting with Mr. Vega and his attorney.”
“I understand,” she said before shaking his hand once more. Though his grip was solid, she couldn’t help but compare it to Detective Thatcher’s. “Let me know if I can do anything to help.”
“Will do.” He turned and then disappeared into the conference room—all blinds were closed over the windows. If Cara and another cop hadn’t been in the room with her, Sophia would have pressed her ear against the door to listen.
The Florida sun raged on as the hours dwindled into night before Sophia finally left the station. She had stayed around to see what would happen with Richard, but Captain Westin hadn’t come out of the room by the time Thatcher had called to give the okay to go back to Lisa’s house. She had even waited another half hour but decided it was a lost cause for the moment. With Richard’s attorney in there, the man had probably not even spoken yet. She said a quick goodbye to Cara and headed to her car.
Sophia’s adrenaline from the day’s events was also on the decline. She hadn’t lost her drive to find Lisa, in fact it felt stronger than ever knowing even Captain Westin was personally involved, but she couldn’t deny the weight of exhaustion settling on her shoulders.
She was practical enough to realize that she was no help to her older sister if she was constantly battling the droop of her eyelids.
Lisa lived in Pebblebrook, a neighborhood on the outskirts of town. It was a community of nice brick houses, man-made ponds and flowers galore. There always seemed to be a mother and her children walking the seemingly unending sidewalks—geared up to lose weight and release toddler-induced stress. When Lisa had moved into the neighborhood two years before, she hadn’t been able to hide her happiness. It was a giant leap above her last apartment.
Sophia drove on autopilot deeper into Pebblebrook’s belly with the soft sounds of a local talk radio show in the background. Since she didn’t have as much to contribute in the ways of police detection, she was already forming a proactive to-do list in her head.
Check Lisa’s house more thoroughly.
Go to Lisa’s work and search for a work schedule or appointment books.
Get an update from Detective Thatcher—
Her train of thought derailed. Thatcher’s voice when he promised to find her sister blanketed the ever-present fear inside her, comforting Sophia for the moment. She believed his sincerity—it was strong and determined. His blue eyes had pierced her own with a ferocity to undo all of the bad and replace it with the good. The reaction had been a lot more than Sophia had expected from the small-town detective.
However, the fact remained, Lisa was her sister, not his. He hadn’t grown up with her, cared for her, been there at the lowest points in life or the highest. He didn’t know that her favorite movie was The Little Mermaid or that she was deathly afraid of owls. He didn’t know about the scar across her ankle that she had gotten from falling off a swing set when she was nine or that, despite their rocky childhood, she had always been kind to their mother. Detective Thatcher didn’t know Lisa, so he couldn’t love her the way Sophia did.
No matter how dedicated he was to his job, he would never have the drive she had to make sure Lisa was found.
It was almost six by the time she pulled into 302 Grandview Court. The street was the farthest from the entrance to Pebblebrook, all houses backed up a thick stretch of woods, and all Sophia could hear were insects and frogs—the music of the South. The loud but subtle sound annoyed her, as it always had. In the city there were still the sounds of insects but car horns and loud neighbors drowned them out. Here, there were no such distractions.
Lisa lived in a single-family home that was a mix between contemporary and ranch-style. Alternating shades of beige and brown brick wrapped around the three-bedroom, two-bath home while a well-tended garden lined the entryway. Sophia didn’t know how Lisa had kept the plants alive and healthy. If it had been her garden, there would be more weeds than flowers and a lot less color—she just didn’t have enough patience to have a green thumb. The inside of the house, admittedly, made Sophia a little green with envy.
The entryway led past an open front room and into an open-floor-plan kitchen, dining area and living room. Off the kitchen was a hallway with the two guest bedrooms and a full bath; off the living room was the very large master bedroom and en suite. Plus a walk-in closet that was bigger than Sophia’s bedroom in her apartment. It wasn’t enough that the house was large, but it was also upgraded. Granite countertops, dark-wood cabinets, vaulted-and-tray ceilings with exposed wooden beams, and hardwood throughout. The house had been done to the nines. It was beautiful.
Sophia felt a stab of guilt as the green monster inside poked his nose up into the air. She should be happy that her sister lived in such a nice house—that she had such a nice life. However, Sophia couldn’t swallow the lump that Richard had had a hand in securing the house. It would have been different if he also lived there but he stayed in his mansion on Loop Road. Sophia may have lived in a tiny apartment but it was a tiny apartment she had earned, not been handed. Lisa, although older, had always skirted the line of earning things versus being handed them—something made easier by her good looks and charm.
Sophia sighed.
This was an old fight between the Hardwick sisters, a useless, petty one now that Lisa was missing.
Sophia grabbed her duffel and changed into a striped tank top, blue jeans and a pair of Nikes. Relinquishing the heels and stuffy pantsuit was a welcomed feeling. There was no boss here that she was trying to impress, no promotion she was chasing with professional work wear and impeccable posture. She was in a safe zone—one lacking work-related worry yet lined with stress-induced questions about Lisa’s future.
Packing had been quick and careless. She noticed the absence of her shampoo, razor and sleep clothes, though they hadn’t seemed too important at the time. She wondered if it was a note about her character that she hadn’t forgotten her work laptop. She rummaged through the bag until she found her cell phone charger. It wasn’t like anyone was anxiously awaiting her to text or call but with Lisa out there, she wanted it to at least be fully charged. She plugged the ancient phone into a wall socket before stretching wide.
Even though sleep had been a rational thought, Sophia couldn’t bring herself to settle down. All notions of getting some rest had evaporated. Instead she found the coffee and thanked the high heavens that there was enough creamer left for one cup. One very large cup. With the silky goodness sliding down her throat and warming her belly, she decided to search the house again.
She went through each room much slower than when she had first blown into town, searching high and low for any clue that could peg a time frame or place Lisa had gone to. The detectives left the house in the same order they had found it, thankfully, and this time around she was able to note the details—the decorations that made the house innately Lisa’s.
The front room had been set up as an office. A desk and bookcase lined one wall while a bright blue love seat sat opposite. From first glance there was nothing that screamed, “This is where I went and this is who took me!” There was also no laptop, just a pristine area of minimal clutter.
Sophia opened the desk drawers and searched its contents. She found coupons for a clothing store two cities over, enough sticky notes to create a note-taking army, and bundles of multicolored pens scattered throughout. Lisa had always loved what she called “nontraditional” pens.
“They dare to be different!” she would say after signing a check with electric-green ink or writing her name in a birthday card with an annoyingly loud shade of fuchsia. It was a habit she had picked up in grade school and hadn’t been able to shake since. When Sophia was little she had been so angry with her sister that she’d replaced the colorful pens for a ten-pack of black and blues. To this day she had never seen Lisa so angry. The then-girl had turned such a bright shade of red, she would have probably liked to add it to her collection of odd inks.
Sophia took care to shut the drawers without snapping or pinching the writing utensils. If Lisa came back to find them busted open it would be another round of older-sibling rage.... She paused. When Lisa came back.
Picture frames and knickknacks lined the bookcase. From little elephant figurines to frozen scenes of Lisa, Sophia, friends she didn’t know and even Richard. The two of them were pressed together in an intimate hug—both smiling, both happy. Another pang of jealousy twisted in her stomach. She physically tried to tamp it down with her hand. There was no time or reason for her to be envious again.
The guest bedrooms were also unhelpful. They both housed a bed and night tables but were neat and orderly—no one had stayed in them recently. The guest bathroom told the same story as well as the pantry and refrigerator. Both were barely stocked. She moved through the living room, warily eyeing the yellow sectional and glass coffee table that was decorated with neon-colored candles, and once again was met with the master suite.
If ever a room could capture the essence of Lisa Gale Hardwick, it was this room. The walls were a light pink that traveled up and across the double-tray ceiling while white trim lined the two windowsills on either side of the bed. That bed. It was a king-size, another luxury Sophia hadn’t been able to experience yet, covered in a loud pink silk comforter with flowers of varying sizes sewn in. There were six fuzzy pillows piled high, all neon green, yellow, orange and pink. They were soft to the touch. Sophia smiled.
She remembered how annoyed she used to be at Lisa’s love for pillows. Even though their bedroom was small and they each had a twin-size bed, there always seemed to be more pillows than bedroom. The older Hardwick would pile them high during the day only to throw them on the floor between their beds during the night. It had driven Sophia crazy.
But you’ll sure thank me if you roll out of bed while you’re asleep, she would say. If that didn’t appease the younger, grumpier girl, Lisa would go as far as to demonstrate by rolling out of bed. She would laugh as the pillows cushioned the fall. See? I’m kind of brilliant. If this second attempt still didn’t work, she would tug Sophia down with her. No matter her mood, this always did the trick. She would laugh and feel the sisterly bond that connected them. Over the years it became a skit between them—an inside joke. Sophia hadn’t realized how much she missed those moments until now, staring at a much bigger bed, standing in a much bigger room.
Her lips went slack, the smile fading. She put the pillow back, wanting to stop the trip down memory lane and find the lost woman instead. If there were no clues to find in the house, she would just have to continue the search elsewhere.
The coffee was doing its wonderful job. It pumped energy throughout Sophia’s body like water down a twisty slide. The heaviness in her eyelids had been replaced by an almost nervous twitch as she hopped into her car and drove down the road, fingers drumming against the steering wheel along with an alternative rock song she didn’t quite know and her mind set on Details. Most of Culpepper were getting into bed, their heads heavy but hearts happy that Friday was only a deep sleep away.
The rest of the house search had been uneventful. There were no hints or clues to where Lisa had gone or why, but Sophia hadn’t been too surprised—the house looked barely lived in. If there was anything she had left behind it was either at her work or at Richard’s house. She didn’t know how either search would go considering Richard and his motley crew of “friends” had probably already gone through both, but she wanted to try. Once she went through Details, she would be giving Richard a call.
The sound of buzzing made Sophia swerve. Her heart thudded hard as she reached for her cell phone, expectations high. An unknown local number flashed on the screen.
“Hello?” she answered, hope pouring through the sound.
“Sophia Hardwick?” The hope that her sister was on the other end of the line evaporated as the man answered.
“This is she.”
“It’s Detective Braydon Thatcher, sorry to call so late.” A new feeling of alarm followed.
“Have you found Lisa?” She wanted and didn’t want an answer. What if they had found her and she was—
“No, but we’re working hard on that.” She let out a breath. “I wanted to—” There was a pause. Sophia pulled the phone out to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. “I just wanted to check in. How are you doing?”
