Family Ties (Flesh & Blood Trilogy Book 2) (15 page)

“Of course. In fact, I was going to give you a call anyway. I actually have some more questions for you too.”

“Uh, oh. Am I in trouble?”

“No, nothing like that. Just some follow-up about Joanna Baker.”

“In that case, when can we meet up?”

“I’m free now. How about you?”

I needed at least an hour to get ready and make myself presentable if I was going to meet with the attractive detective, so I had to come up with an excuse. “Um, I was just about to go for a run. Can we make it nine instead?” Why on earth had I said I was going to run? There went me and my stupid mouth, again.

“Sure thing. How about we meet at the Main Street Diner right at nine?”

“I’ll see you then,” I said, probably sounding like a complete and utter dork.

“Yep,” he said before disconnecting the line.

I jumped into the shower, got dressed, made myself as pretty as possible and was ready just in time. Harper was still asleep, so I left her a note on the fridge telling her where I was going. It wasn’t until I got in the car that the butterflies began to flutter around in my stomach. It was a feeling I hadn’t had since I had first met Ryan. What was it about this detective that got me so worked up? I didn’t know, but I was determined to find out.

Chapter 15

I arrived at the Main Street Diner in Richmond a few minutes before nine. I didn’t see any unmarked police cars in the parking lot. In fact, there was only one other car. So I waited in my car until about five after, when I saw a tan, unmarked Crown Victoria pull in. I watched as Detective Webster stepped out of his vehicle and started toward the door. He must have seen me open the door to my car, because he stopped right as he was about to open the door and turned to face me.

“Good to see I’m not the only one a little late,” he said with a perfect smile.

“I’m perpetually late,” I said, not wanting him to know I had waited for him. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m always hungry,” he said with a laugh as he held the door to the café open for me.

I walked in under his arm. The hostess, who looked young enough to be my daughter, greeted us with a warm smile and ushered us to a booth in the far corner of the restaurant. When the waitress arrived, we both ordered country ham, biscuits with sausage gravy, and coffee. She turned and left Web and me alone in the booth. He was the first to break the awkward silence.

“So,” he said finally. “You said you had some more information you wanted to share with me about the Joanna Baker case.”

“Well, it’s not exactly related to your case,” I admitted. “But it may be something you’ll find interesting. Plus, I was hoping maybe you could help me.”

“Help you how?”

I let out a sigh and told him everything I had learned about Brian, including the bit about him escaping from Pleasant Valley and possibly moving to Richmond, Web’s home turf.

“Ah,” he said when I was finished. “So you want my help in locating your newly-discovered brother?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “If you don’t mind.”

“Nah,” he said. “I’d be glad to help. You came forward with the information about Joanna Baker. I always return favors whenever I can. Give me what information you have and I’ll see what I can come up with.”

“All I know is that his name is Brian Randall Larson and he
might
live somewhere on Jacks Creek, here in Richmond.”

“Jacks Creek is a long road,” he said. “And from what you’ve told me, I assume he’s renting a place from someone, maybe under a different name.”

“So where on earth would you even begin?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it,” he said with an irreverent smile. “I have my ways.”

“All right. I’ll trust you. And again, I appreciate your help. Have you made any progress on Joanna’s case?”

He leaned forward and crooked his finger at me for me to do the same, which I did. Then he whispered, “I can’t really discuss an ongoing investigation…on the record, anyway.”

“But off the record?”

“Off the record, the coroner’s report came back just as I was leaving the station to meet you. Turns out Joanna Baker was strangled. Probably with something soft, like a shirt or a necktie.”

“How about a scarf?” I asked, remembering the scarf that had been found in Randy’s truck.

“Well, yes. I suppose it could have been a scarf. Why do you ask?”

“No reason. Just thinking out loud. So Joanna Baker was definitely murdered?”

“Well, she was dumped along the interstate, which doesn’t exactly happen when someone dies of natural causes. Plus, the coroner confirmed it this morning, so, yes. Definitely murder.”

“Let me guess. No fingerprints, DNA, or other evidence.”

“That’s right,” Web said, nodding his head slowly. “How’d you know that?”

“It was the same with the victims of the I-75 strangler,” I told him.

“You mean…your father?”

I thought about this for a beat before answering him. When I had begun this journey, I was convinced Randy was guilty. All I had was a tiny sliver of hope that he might be innocent. Now, the more I learned, the more I began to think he really may be innocent, after all. Not only that, it was beginning to look like my brother may have been involved, at least in some small way. After all, he was the one with a violent streak and an unbalanced mind. Brian would have been in his mid-to-late twenties during the killing spree, old enough for it to be possible. But the only thorn that stuck in my paw was the fact that the odds of a father being convicted of crimes committed by his possibly unknown son were astronomical at best. Still…

“I’m not so sure anymore,” I finally decided to say.

“So you really think your father might be innocent?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “All I know is that there’s a chance that Brian could be involved. If there’s even the remotest of chances he was, that means Randy might actually be innocent.”

“Or,” Web countered with upturned palms. “They were in on it together.”

I hadn’t considered that possibility. I still hadn’t even established whether or not Randy knew that Brian even existed. All I knew was that he had been informed that Annie Larson was pregnant. Only God and Randy knew what had transpired after that. It was becoming clearer and clearer that I was soon going to have to go see Randy and confront him with everything I’d learned. But not quite yet. I wasn’t sure what was holding me back, but something in my subconscious mind was telling me to wait just a little longer.

“I guess that’s possible,” was all I said in response.

The waitress returned with our check, which Web and I fought playfully over before I finally relented and let him pay.

“Back to Joanna Baker’s murder,” Web said. “Do you think it’s possible that your brother could be involved with that?”

“It’s possible, I guess. But what on earth would be his motive? As far as we know, he didn’t know Joanna Baker from Adam.”

I realized in that instant that I felt a bit defensive of my brother whom I didn’t even know existed until very recently.

“Good point,” Web conceded. “But you did say you thought it was possible someone had followed you, or her, and saw the two of you together. Maybe whoever killed Joanna thought you were getting too close to the truth.”

“But I didn’t even talk to Joanna much about Randy’s case. We mainly talked about Randy and Annie Larson.”

“Exactly,” said Web.

“Exactly what?”

“Maybe
that’s
the truth you were getting too close to—learning about what happened all those years ago between your father and Annie Larson.”

“I see what you’re saying, but why would anyone kill Joanna over a nearly forty-year-old secret? I just don’t get it.”

“Me either,” he said. “But it’s an angle I’d like to pursue.”

“And you’re still going to help me find Brian, right?”

“Oh, yes,” he said. “Trust me. I’ll find Brian Larson for you. I want to talk to him myself.”

“That’s just great,” I said as I slumped against the back of the booth. “If you find him and talk to him first, he’ll get paranoid and take off again. Then I’ll never get to talk to him.”

Web seemed to ponder this for a few seconds. “I’ll let you talk to him first. How’s that for a deal?”

“I like it,” I said with a smile.

With that agreement in mind, Web and I exited the diner and walked out into the parking lot toward our respective vehicles. I had so enjoyed my time with Web, I found I was sad to see him go. But before he climbed into his cruiser, he leaned over the top of the car and yelled my name.

I turned around to see him smiling as he tossed his keys from hand to hand. “What?”

“Want to do this again some time?”

I was suddenly thankful we were no longer in close proximity, lest he see me blushing like a schoolgirl.

“But next time,” he said as he started to duck down in to his car. “Pleasure, not business.”

“I’d love that.”

***

I got back to the house in Nicholasville around noon and hollered for Harper when I opened the door.

“Up here!” she yelled from the office.

I climbed the stairs and found her sitting in the middle of the floor, files and documents circling her in neat piles.

“What on earth are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m organizing Mr. Hayes’s file, like you asked me to. Look here. I’ve already split the file into nine different sections—one for each victim. In each stack is the autopsy report and photographs of the bodies. Then over here, on Shiloh Rainwater’s file, I’ve added that Alma woman’s statement. Something doesn’t sit right with me there.”

“What do you mean?” I asked as I stepped over the files and joined her in the middle of the circle.

Harper picked up a copy of Alma’s statement and handed it to me. I noticed certain portions were highlighted with a yellow marker.

“She says she saw a man and a woman arguing near what she was certain was your father’s tractor-trailer, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And later, during the lineup, she identified Randy as the man she saw yelling at the victim.”

“Right.”

“Well, maybe I’m crazy here, but bear with me for a second. You said Alma’s blind as a bat, right? And according to her statement, she was standing by the doorway to the truck stop. Randy’s, or what we assume was Randy’s, truck was parked all the way over here.” Harper picked up an aerial photograph of the truck stop, which the police had marked with red X’s to represent where each party had been standing.

“Okay…”

“That’s a good thirty yards from the front door to here, where the truck was parked. There’s no way that blind-as-hell Alma Jean Glover could have correctly identified anybody, in the dark, from thirty yards away, even if she was wearing her glasses.”

“Yes,” I said. “I’ve already said she might have been mistaken.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t explain how she could have picked your father out of a lineup. Especially if he wasn’t there, as he claimed. Why him? Out of the six men picked for the lineup…why him? According to the police file, they had each man in the lineup put on a baseball cap, a plaid shirt, and a black down-filled vest. They would have all looked nearly identical. Yet, she picked Randy.”

“I’m not following you,” I said as I shifted my weight from one hip to another.

“Okay, even you said you don’t think it’s a coincidence that your brother has come into play with this whole scenario. What if you’re right? What if it’s a lot more than a coincidence? What if the reason that Alma picked Randy out of the lineup was that she
did
see Randy? Or at least, she
thought
she had seen Randy?”

I tried to follow her logic, but it took another few seconds before I picked up what she was laying down.

“Oh, my God,” I finally said when all the puzzle pieces finally fell into place. “You think Brian was the one she saw arguing with Shiloh Blackwater that night?”

“Bingo!”

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath.

Yes, it had already crossed my mind that Brian could possibly be involved. Especially once I’d learned of his mental condition and penchant for violence. But I had never considered that the reason Alma Jean Glover had been so certain she’d seen Randy was because she’d actually seen his son. I didn’t know what Brian looked like, but most likely, he at least resembled Randy, as most sons resembled their fathers. He might even be a spitting image. This explained quite a bit regarding Alma Glover’s eyewitness statement and identification of Randy, especially once you factored in her near-blindness.

“Harper, you’re a genius,” I said, wanting to kiss her square on the lips, but patting her on the back, instead.

“Not so fast,” Harper said with a wary look on her face.

“What? I think you’re right!”

“It’s just a theory. Plus, if what we just figured out is even true, it still leaves several more questions to be answered.”

“Such as?”

“Such as…does Randy even know Brian exists? Does Brian know Randy exists? If the answer to either or both of those questions is yes, then the next question is—why? Why would Brian kill all those women and why would Randy take the fall? And finally, how do we prove Brian is the real killer and set your father free?”

“All good questions,” I said. “Apparently, I’m going to have to talk to Randy. Plus, I’m hopefully going to locate Brian sooner rather than later and maybe he will answer some of those questions too. Harper, we may be close to solving this thing, after all.”

“Let’s hope,” Harper said.

My cell phone rang. I pulled it out of the back pocket of my jeans and looked at the screen. It was Detective Webster. Rather, Web.

I answered, but before I could say anything he jumped in excitedly.

“I found him,” he said. “I found Brian. At least, I think I did.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve got an address. I’m headed back over to check it out now.”