He’d scared the hell out of her.
She would not be afraid.
Damn it. She would not.
Crawling into the bed and dragging the covers over her, she repeated the mantra until sleep lulled her into unconsciousness.
Chapter Thirteen
Hoover, 11:00 a.m.
“Amy,” Jess urged gently, “I want you to think really hard. Did Dana ever mention the young man’s name or how she met him?”
Amy, Dana’s closest friend and also a student at Birmingham-Southern, shook her head. More tears spilled down her pale cheeks. Her hands twisted together in her lap. “She wouldn’t talk about it. But I could tell she felt really bad. It was like she thought there was something she had to do to fix something. She just wouldn’t say what that something was.”
Amy’s parents, Carla and Tim Porter, sat on either side of their daughter on the family sofa.
“Amy and Dana have only been friends for two years,” Carla reminded Jess. “They met their freshmen year at Birmingham-Southern. Dana is a sweet, sweet girl.” Carla shook her head as if still overwhelmed by disbelief. “I can’t believe she would just up and run away like this.”
“She didn’t,” Amy snapped, her nerves obviously frayed. “She wouldn’t do this.”
Tim Porter put his arm around his daughter. “It’s going to be all right,” he murmured.
As soon as Jess had learned Amy had a father named Tim, she put Wells on ferreting out all she could about the man. It was a long shot but Jess wasn’t skipping any steps. The Porters had asked the usual questions. Were there any leads on the other missing girls? Was there a connection between Dana and the other girls?
“We’ve reviewed all the calls and texts on Dana’s phone,” Jess went on. “We didn’t find any contact with persons not listed as close friends by her parents or you. How do you think she would have interacted with this unknown young man?” They were assuming the unsub in Dana’s case was male.
That was the kicker. How was the unsub or unsubs in this case reaching the girls? They had the answer in Reanne’s instance, but not with the other four. Nothing on cell phones or computers. The possibility that none of these disappearances were connected gnawed at Jess, but she refused to ignore her instincts. Somehow, there was a thread that wove through all five of these young lives.
Amy moved her head side to side. “She never told me.” The worry for her friend clouded her eyes with genuine misery. “She always had her cell with her. Always. Checked her email and Facebook that way. If they didn’t talk on her cell, it had to be in person.”
“And you’re certain Dana doesn’t have a boyfriend?”
“She doesn’t.” Amy shrugged. “Guys try but she ignores them.”
“Do you believe this other boy is the reason? Or is it her work at school?” It wasn’t that Jess couldn’t accept that a girl that age didn’t have a love interest, it certainly seemed to be the one glaring theme beyond age, but what did Dana and the others do with their summers when they weren’t in school? These were nineteen and twenty year old women, for goodness sakes, biologically their hormones were ripe and raging.
“Until the last couple of weeks I thought it was school. But now I don’t know.”
Jess put her pencil and pad away. “Thank you, Amy, for talking to me. I realize you gave your statement to the police already but I wanted to speak personally to Dana’s closest friends.” And she wanted to get some face time with the father, Tim. “If you remember anything at all that you believe might be helpful please let me know.”
Amy nodded, the tears started anew. Her mother pulled her close and hugged her tight.
Jess stood, lugged her bag onto her shoulder. “Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Porter. I appreciate your time.”
The father followed Jess to the door. Burnett and Wells were outside having some kind of conference that Jess felt reasonably sure had been timed to ensure she wasn’t a part of the huddle. If he had Wells checking into the Spears situation, Jess was going to pitch a fit. They needed all hands on deck on this case. There was no time for distraction.
Last night’s creepy text messages meant nothing except that Spears wasn’t finished playing games with her.
Or maybe Burnett had found out Jess had talked Wells into getting a beat cop friend of hers to watch Dr. Sullivan’s house today. The man was off duty, it wasn’t any of Burnett’s business what he did with his free time. The cop wanted to make detective. He’d been eager to do a favor for Wells.
Outside the front door, goodbyes exchanged, Jess hesitated. “Mr. Porter, you work in Tuscaloosa, is that correct?” She studied his face, watched for the slightest twitch.
“I do, yes.” Suspicion as to her motive for asking immediately made an appearance on his face.
“Have you ever had lunch at the Roll Tide Sandwich Shop near the UA campus? It’s a very popular place.” It was also the place where Reanne Parsons worked six days per week most weeks, until she disappeared.
“I know the one you mean,” he said carefully. “I’ve never eaten there, no.”
“The reason I asked,” Jess explained, “is that another of the girls who vanished worked there. I’m looking for any connection between these girls and their families. If you remember a time when perhaps your office had food delivered from that particular sandwich shop and maybe Reanne was the delivery person, please contact the chief’s office or me directly.” She withdrew Reanne’s photo from her bag. “I’m sure you’ve seen her photo on the news, but just in case you haven’t.” She showed him the face of the missing girl.
He studied the photo at length without a visible reaction. “I’m sorry. I’m certain I’ve never seen her, but I’ll ask around the office.”
“Thank you,
Tim
.” She started down the steps but hesitated again when she reached the walk. “It’s just a coincidence, I’m certain.” She shook her head, breathed a dog-tired sound that wasn’t exactly a laugh.
“What’s that, Agent Harris?”
Tim Porter stood as still as stone, his face paler than before. He might not have any connection to Reanne, but there was something in his life that he was afraid of. His distress at whatever she intended to say next flashed like a caution light.
“The last person to see Reanne is named Tim.” She shrugged. “It’s a common name. Just a little unsettling.” She gave him a big smile. “Thank you again.”
Jess left him at the door staring after her. She wanted him to fret over whether he had anything to worry about. Mostly she just wanted him to think. Somewhere, somehow there had to be a common element of which someone out there was aware. Until she found that link or those girls, she would happily take potshots at every available target.
“What’s going on?” she asked when Burnett and Wells looked up.
If the uh-oh expression captured on their faces hadn’t been enough to tell the tale, the awkward tension vibrating the air as Jess approached warned that whatever was up, she wasn’t going to like it.
It wasn’t enough that she’d been avoiding eye contact with him all day after the incident last night. She’d acted like a total fool. A weak, helpless one at that.
“We need to get you back to the office. There’s a storm coming and I don’t think we’re going to be able to stop it.”
What was he talking about? Jess glanced at the sky. The sun was shining and the temperature was way too close to the triple digits for her liking. Of course, his statement had nothing to do with the climate. “What storm?”
“A media storm, Jess.”
She shrugged. “So. They’ve been on top of this case for weeks. The only reason they’re not here now is because we’re backtracking over territory already covered.”
“It’s not exactly about this case.”
With him wearing those blasted sunglasses, she couldn’t see his eyes. While she was on the subject, where the heck was hers? In the SUV. She shielded her eyes with her hand. “If it’s not—”
She stopped short when it hit her. It was about
her
. And the Player.
“We have a short lead time,” Wells explained. “The chief has a contact at
Birmingham News
. She heard about the rumor blowing through the networks. Channel ten is already camped out at the courthouse.”
Jess swore under her breath. “I can’t go to the office,” she argued. “I’m not getting stuck downtown.” When the big networks and cable news heard she was here, this case would become a national fiasco. A brief mention was one thing, but hour-by-hour coverage was another. More often than not, that kind of nuisance impeded an investigation. Particularly if the blitz was focused on a different case. “This is a disaster.”
“We’ll make a decision en route.” Burnett touched Jess’s elbow in silent direction for her to come along.
Jess read between those lines without a blink. He had already made up his mind. “I’ll be right there. I have a couple of things I need to go over with Detective Wells.” Maybe he could read between those lines.
Give her some space
.
“One minute,” he warned.
A big, fake smile was her answer. When he’d loaded into the Mercedes she turned her attention to Wells.
“Sullivan didn’t go to work today,” Wells reported. “She left her residence one hour ago and drove to the Wal-Mart on Lakeshore Parkway in Homewood.”
Jess braced. “And?”
“Officer Cook followed her inside. She wandered the book aisle for a few minutes before going to the restroom. So Cook followed her to the back of the store but not into the corridor where the bathrooms are located.”
“Oh damn. She’s gone, isn’t she?”
Wells nodded. “He went back outside and her car is still in the lot. He’s waiting there for further instructions.”
“She knows someone who works there.” Jess bit back a slew of curses. “I’ll head over there now. Anything on this Tim?” She jerked her head toward the Porter home.
“Other than the affair he’s having with a coworker that his wife doesn’t know about? No. Nothing.”
That certainly explained Porter’s edginess when she asked him about work. “All right. Thank you, detective.” Jess hesitated before joining Burnett who had powered down his window and was staring in her direction. “I hate to keep asking you for these little favors.”
“No problem,” Wells assured her. “What can I do?”
“I’ve gotten a couple of texts on my cell from a private number. See if Vernon can find out where they’re coming from.”
“That won’t be so easy.”
Jess understood. The chances of keeping that from Burnett were not good. “Try your best.”
“Will do.”
Burnett was annoyed when she joined him in his SUV. She ignored him, buckled up and focused on her notes while he drove.
She waited until he was on Highway 31. “I need a Wal-Mart. If I remember correctly there’s one on Lakeshore Parkway.”
“Wal-Mart?” He shot her a look through those dark shades.
“I have a need, Burnett.” She flipped to the next page of her notes.
“Jess, we
are
going back to the office.” Another shielded look arrowed in her direction.
“Do you have feminine products available at your office?”
“Enough said.” He focused on driving.
That did it every time.
~*~
Wal-Mart, 1:29 p.m.
Dan was going to have a serious talk with Wells. Not that he could really blame the detective. Jess had worked some major cases; her reputation was nothing short of awe-inspiring. That alone was enough to get any young detective’s attention. And, as he well knew, Jess could be damned persuasive. Otherwise he wouldn’t have allowed her to completely take over this investigation.
But he couldn’t claim to have any better ideas than the ones she suggested.
The store manager wasn’t thrilled about marching Jess around to each of his employees on duty in the store, but one flash of her official ID and he caved. They started with the stock employees in the back. No one admitted to knowing Dr. Sullivan or having seen her. From there, they covered one department after the other.
Dan hadn’t complained about her tactics. After the temporary insanity that had seized him last night, he’d just as soon stay clear of pissing her off. She’d rushed around all morning, avoiding engaging him in any way.
He deserved that, he supposed.
He’d crossed the line.
They’d both spent the entire day pretending it hadn’t happened. No point in changing course now.
“Mary, this is Agent Harris and Chief Burnett. They have some questions for you.”
Fear widened the eyes of the fifty-year-old head of the garden department. “Sure,” she said to her boss.
This was the one. Dan didn’t need Jess’s powerful discernment skills to see that. The woman was shaking in her blue vest.
“Good afternoon, Mary,” Jess said. “We’re looking for Dr. Maureen Sullivan. We believe she may have visited you here today. Maybe she borrowed your personal vehicle.”
“She’s my cousin.” Mary dropped the hand-held scanner onto a stack of bagged grass seed and heaved a sigh. “I don’t know what she was thinking.” She shook her head. “She wouldn’t even tell me what happened.” Her watery gaze met Dan’s, then settled on Jess. “She just kept saying there was a problem with a patient and she was in danger. She needed to get out of town for a while but she was afraid she was being followed.”
“Did you get the impression she meant that she was in danger,” Jess asked, “or the patient?”
Mary bowed her head in shame and wagged it side to side before answering the question. “I think she was talking about herself, but I don’t know for sure. She seemed scared to death.”
“Mary,” Dan said, “we’ll need the color, make and model of your car. The license plate number, too, if you can give us that information.”
Ten minutes later, Dan had an APB out on Mary Benson’s 2008 white Ford Taurus.
Sheila, his secretary, sent him a text confirming that the circus had already set up camp in front of the BPD offices. Gina had warned him that they didn’t have a lot of time. As usual, she was right.
After waiting for Jess to settle into the passenger seat of his SUV, he fastened his seatbelt and started the engine. “I guess you’ll get your wish.”