The Price of Candy (9 page)

“Not necessary. I took the bike over to Abby
Olin and it positively is her daughter’s bike.”

“And?”

“And, nothing. According to her, you’re
probably the one who took Jamie. She still won’t report her as
missing.”

“Okay, I hereby report Jamie Olin, a
ten-year-old, is missing.”

“No good, the report has to be made by a
parent or some sort of guardian.”

“Can’t Child Welfare or somebody step
in?”

“Not without more evidence that she’s
missing.”

“Okay, I’m going to get you more evidence. I
wonder where Jamie’s father is. If I can locate him, would you
instigate an investigation on his behalf?”

“Maybe we’d have to. One more thing. Everyone
and his brother knows Chip will be helping you on your arrest and
on the kidnapping. Warn him he’d better be damn careful. Because
Moran would love to nail him for getting involved.”

“What’s the latest on Detective Pomar? Is he
still on the shitlist for helping me that night?”

“I put a warning in his personnel file. Told
him to watch being influenced by wild women, especially cute
ones.”

“Thanks for everything.”

She drove the short distance over to where
she had stopped at the ficus hedge near the school. She walked
around where she had found the bicycle and up and down the nearby
curb. Across the street was a vacant lot and next to it the only
house on that side that would have had a view of the abduction. The
occupant was an elderly woman who was happy to cooperate, but she
hadn’t gone to her front window until she heard the honking.

Sandy waited there in her car and approached
the few people who walked on either side. Did they remember a young
girl riding a blue bike in the neighborhood yesterday morning?
Perhaps someone stopping a car to talk to a girl with a bike.
Nothing. A long shot, at best. She’d come back in the morning to
look for people that might walk at the earlier time every day. She
was there until dark. She had the odd feeling that Jamie, wherever
she was, somehow knew Sandy was looking for her.

She drove back to Park Beach and to Kagan’s
law office. She let herself into the dark and quiet office and
booted the computer. She searched Florida Vital Records online and
found Jamie Olin’s birth record immediately. It had a Kevin R.
Olin, age 31, listed as the father.

Next, she did a “find-anyone” search and came
up with three initial listings for Kevin R. Olin. Twenty-one
dollars later, she had three DOB’s, current addresses, and cell
phone numbers. Let’ see, Jamie is now ten and one man listed is
forty-one, so bingo! The Kevin R. Olin living in Athens, Georgia is
the daddy.

She tried the Kevin Olin number—no answer.
She left an innocent sounding message mentioning Jamie on his voice
mail. He called back immediately. He sounded like an intelligent
person on the phone. She tried to explain Jamie was missing and his
ex was refusing to alert the police. He didn’t understand who Sandy
was. He said he’d phone Abby and then phone back.

She took out Detective Triney’s card. “Sorry
to bother you. You must be off duty by now,” she said when he came
on the line. “I wanted you to know I was able to identify Jamie’s
father.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“His name is Kevin R. Olin...lives in Athens,
GA. He sounded upset when I told him his daughter was missing. He’s
checking me out. Will phone back. He’ll be happy to report the
kidnapping, and then you can start the official search.”

Silence.

“You there, Triney?”

“I’m thinking I know that name. Yes...a
couple of months back. This gets a little weird. I need to explain
it to you in person. Let’s meet in the parking lot of the Ramada
out by I-95.”

“Okay, I know where it is. When?”

“How about eight in the morning? One more
question before we meet. Were you down here in Florida in November
when that woman’s naked body was found on the beach?”

Triney had her thinking all night about
locating Jamie’s father. And why had the detective mentioned a
naked body on the beach in the same conversation? Triney was
waiting in his unmarked vehicle in the parking lot of the Ramada
when she arrived. He waved and motioned her over. “Unless you’re
dying for coffee, let’s talk out here.”

“I don’t know your first name.” She slid in
beside him.

“Harold, Harold Triney, perfectly awful, I
know. They called me Skinny in high school. Would you rather go
inside and have tea?”

She shook her head. “Skinny Triney isn’t much
better. Bet they don’t call you Skinny these days.”

“Hey, watch it, girl.” He laughed. “First
off, it’s good you located Jamie’s father, Kevin Olin. However,
you’ll have to deal with him yourself. Out of line for me to do it
until there is an official kidnapping.”

“You mentioned the case of a nude body on the
beach. I’m almost afraid to ask. Does this have something to do
with Kevin Olin?”

“Yes...”

“Oh god, don’t tell me!” she interrupted.

“Let me explain. It was Privado Beach, just
inside the city limits. Last year, November. It was a Park Beach
city case, however they briefed all of us at the sheriff’s office.
Do you know about the case?

She shook her head. “I’d just arrived from
Philly and was preoccupied with getting my brother out of
jail.”

“Busy getting close to Chip Goddard, from
what I hear. He’s a lucky guy. Anyway, Privado has a reputation as
a party beach and there had been trouble out there before. Nothing
like a dead woman. An early morning beach walker spotted the body
of an adult female out there. Most would call her nice-looking,
your age, maybe a bit younger. Half in, half out of the water. No
clothes found anywhere.”

“Skinny dipping?”

“Nothing found, no sunglasses, no swimsuit,
no purse, nothing.”

“Murdered. I suppose we’re getting to
that?”

Triney wasn’t the kind of man to waste time
or words. He turned away from her toward the highway as though
checking the traffic. “Some would say worse.”

“Got it. Rape and murder.”

“No, the M.E. determined the cause of death
was asphyxiation. Said she choked to death on a pretzel.”

“Choked to death on a pretzel,” she repeated
slowly, unsure of what she heard.

“Death by choking is not uncommon,” he
explained. “A leading cause of accidental death. People
underestimate the danger of choking. Stop breathing and you’ll die
within five minutes.”

“So there was no murder, so where’s the
crime? If she started choking and no one was around to help her,
it’d be a horrible way to die. But surely not worse, as you said,
than being murdered.”

“Death isn’t always the last outrage.” The
detective hesitated and then said, “Posthumous penetration.” He
looked down and then up slowly at her face to see if she
flinched.

She did. She drew a quick breath, squeezed
her eyes shut, and swallowed hard. “I could never be a cop. Did you
catch the sick piece of shit?”

“I feel like I’m talking to my daughter.” The
detective shifted some on the seat. “You really want to hear all
this?”

“Truthfully I don’t. I don’t get off on crime
scene details. Doesn’t take much to turn my stomach. I prefer the
sweet investigative part that comes later, after the victim is
cleaned up and lying under a clean white sheet.” Her mind raced on
ahead. “I feel sorry for the girl and the people who knew her. But
what does this have to do with Kevin Olin? And for Jamie’s sake
please tell me there’s absolutely no connection.”

“I’m going to discuss some of this because I
know your reputation, you’re professional and discreet. The case is
still open. The city police never made an arrest. Abuse of a dead
body is a second-degree felony in Florida. It’ll get you fifteen
years. They think the felony abuse on the corpse took place higher
up on the beach and the tide dragged the body down to the water.
Unfortunately, the tide also smoothed all the sand erasing any
activity or footprints.”

“Nonsense, beach party evidence would be all
over the place.”

“I didn’t mean there was a party that
particular night. It’s just that Privado is known as an
out-of-the-way beach if you don’t want to be bothered. If someone
doesn’t direct you there, you’re not going to find it. Locals love
it, never crowded.”

“How’d she get there?” Sandy asked. “She
didn’t walk there naked. What about tire tracks? Someone had to
park. That leaves evidence. Someone had to walk down to the beach.
That gives you evidence.”

“Should have but didn’t. The perp was either
clever or lucky. The body was half in the water and flushed by the
tide. Nothing was left of any clothing fibers, hairs, saliva, or
like that.”

“Semen?”

“Traces were found but unusable. Semen and
DNA once contaminated by salt water are useless.”

“You say the perp might be clever. But he
must have known he was leaving his semen behind. He couldn’t have
anticipated salt water helping him out. That’s dumb thinking.”

“He probably wasn’t thinking at all. At least
not with his brain. All his blood was flowing downward.”

She nodded. “The authorities are certain the
abuse was post mortem?”

“They can tell...somehow. Also, when the
victim is unidentified the medical examiner routinely looks for
clues to the occupation. Like the cliché calluses on the hands of
laborers. Determining the occupation often leads to the ID. In this
case, the medical examiner thought her makeup was unusual. He
called it theatrical.”

“Indicating a singer, an actress, or on the
stage in some capacity.”

He continued, “Tall and in good physical
condition. Leg muscles and abs were firm. Recent pedicure. With the
special makeup and all, the M.E. came up with exotic dancer,
stripper, whatever. Her prints didn’t help. We checked the missing
persons file and a couple of people came forward who thought they
might know her. So far, she’s unidentified.”

“That’s sad. Her friends and family don’t
even know she’s dead.”

“A young woman dies and nobody cries for
her,” the detective sighed audibly.

“I’ll cry if I don’t stop thinking about it.
I’d really like to help her. After I find Jamie and clear myself,
maybe I’ll look into her case,” she said. “And Kevin Olin?”

“A nearby property owner noticed a white SUV
parked, backed almost out of sight, in the beach parking area that
night. Now I have to tell you, local law enforcement personnel
really took this criminal abuse to heart. They were angry. Would’ve
thought it was their little sister found lying there violated. As
you might expect, there were the inevitable vulgar comments and
jokes about a nude female body you’d expect from some jerks in law
enforcement. But, for the most part, we were all preoccupied with
finding the bastard.”

“And Kevin?” She started drumming her fingers
on the dashboard.

“So they put out a bulletin to all law
enforcement to be alert to situations involving a white SUV. That
stirred up a hornet’s nest. Any idea how many white SUVs in
Florida? Street patrol would follow any white minivan or SUV,
looking for some excuse for a stop. Every officer wanted to be the
one who nailed the guy. If it was white and had wheels, we stopped
it, some multiple times. One motorist wrote the newspaper saying
cars should be marked with an X so they wouldn’t be stopped more
than once. Anyway, a deputy stopped Kevin later that day for a tag
light out on his white Toyota SUV. He had a wet bathing suit in the
back and Georgia plates. The deputy who pulled him over went
crazy—all hyper about the guy. So they sent me over to the stop to
check him out.”

“And,” she said loudly.

“He seemed okay, said he was down from
Georgia to visit his daughter. Who we now know is Jamie. I verified
some stuff and sent him on his way.”

“So that’s why his name rang a bell with you.
That’s all there is to it? Geez, you scared the hell out of me. I
don’t know why Abby and Kevin got divorced, but you had me thinking
Jamie had another bad actor in her life besides her mother.”

“Now get out of here. I shouldn’t be seen
talking with you.”

“As part of that investigation, are you guys
trying to locate that Toby? You know, the guy Abby thought she
shot.”

“What did I just tell you about your own
case? Please get out of here.”

“So I’m the one who’s stuck with not only
finding Jamie, finding Toby, and dealing with Kevin Olin if he ever
phones me back.”

“Out!”

She thanked him for trusting her with the
beach story and went back to her car. Instinctively she reached for
her laptop and then remembered it was in the sheriff’s evidence
room. She phoned Chip and told him she needed access to his police
computer. He suggested they meet at his house. When she arrived, he
was sitting in his unmarked vehicle in his driveway writing up some
report. She explained she had located Kevin Olin; and needed help
locating Toby last name unknown. The Privado Beach affair was out
of her mind.

“Abby Olin didn’t seem at all worried that
Jamie’s missing,” she told him. “She refuses to report her missing.
Why wouldn’t a mother be hysterical about a missing child? No doubt
she’s already rented out her room.”

“Because she isn’t really missing?” he
suggested. “Possibly Abby left her with a friend or relative. She’s
not worried because she knows where Jamie is. You’ve already
notified the father. I think you should hold off on pursuing some
alleged kidnapper and concentrate on clearing yourself.”

“If Jamie’s safe, then why was her bike found
in the bushes? No, I’ll worry about me later. I need to find this
Toby. He definitely has something to do with it. Abby intended to
kill him. If I can find out why, then I can clear myself and might
find Jamie in the process. Toby sounds like a nickname and that
didn’t get me very far tracing on the Internet. Abby knows his full
name, however she’s not talking. Can you search through the
national crime database for me?”