Missings, The (16 page)

Purchases made, Chase walked back to his car. As he unlocked the back door to stow the grocery bag another car pulled up, stopped about twenty yards away, then crept closer. Chase expected fog to suddenly fall and swirl like in horror movies. Maybe those clouds would pull together for a lightning show—some sign to warn him about the man about to walk into his life. The severed heads he’d seen online rolled into his thoughts.

Chase tossed the bag inside and closed the door. Turned to face the approaching car—the slithering car—as it came to a stop. He determined to look both calm and warm and leaned against the side of his car. The cold cut through his clothes.
Shit
. But he didn’t move.

The Toyota Camry sat for a good thirty seconds. Finally the driver cut the engine. Another interminable passage of time, then Chase heard a click.

One dirty Nike and then a second one hit the pavement, followed by a rather small, jean-clad wiry man wearing a faded Miami Dolphins T-shirt beneath his unzipped navy jacket. He observed long and wind-blown black hair, a scrunched face and—even from this distance—angry dark eyes. Even with those eyes, he was just a guy. Nothing he couldn’t handle. He hoped. Chase’s tension lifted.

Ramirez stood three feet away. His stance said he hated being in this position.

“I’m investigating some murders,” Chase opened the conversation. “The bodies have been mutilated, organs removed. Do you or anyone in your group know anything about these killings?”

“Group?”

“Sect? Congregation? Help me out here.”

“If my group, sect or congregation did have any knowledge of these acts, do you think I’d be meeting you here in the first place? Do you think I’d be dying to confide and confess to a cop?”

“Knowledge does not mean involvement. And I’m not casting any kind of blame.”

“What you’re casting is disruption. If these mutilations had stayed under whatever kind of control they required, my life would be uninterrupted. Instead I find myself outed in a most disagreeable manner.” Ramirez’s formal speech pattern was at odds with his straggly appearance. Chase noted the clenched fists. “I’m angry. And in my own way, I have as much of an interest in finding the killers as you.”

“You don’t need the heat.”

“They don’t pay you the big bucks for nothing,
amigo
.”

Chase hated the term
amigo
applied to him by this man. “Will you let me know if you hear of anything that will help us?”

“You now know my identity. You now know of the existence of Santeria practitioners in Aspen Falls. The only reason I would have for getting further involved would be retribution.”

“And?”

“
Yo no sé
. I couldn’t say, Detective. This exposure is filled with reasons to retaliate. But trust me,
if
something should happen to your suspects you will never know for certain Santeria had anything to do with it. I do not expect to ever have to meet with the likes of you again.”

Ramirez moved back to his car and hesitated before getting in. “Detective?”

“Yes?”

“Leave me out of this from now on. I have nothing more to say to you. But I promise, if you don’t take care of Presley Adams and his clinic, I will.”

Near Aspen Falls Middle School

Monday, September 24

Bobby Carlisle pointed. “There she is.” They’d been sitting out in front of this goddamned school for the last twenty minutes. About time she showed.

“Which one?”

“Sammy, open your eyes, man. We’ve only been following her for… how long?” If they were ever caught, it would be his older brother who would bring them down. Sammy had the attention span of a gnat and his IQ was slightly less. But he did have some muscles.

“You know how long. It’s just that she changes.”

“Changes what?”

“Clothes and shit.”

Bobby squeezed his lips as tight as he could. They’d figured out pretty fast that this teenage bimbo usually had family around her. Friends. She was rarely alone.

Except for when she wanted a late night out with those friends. Then, for at least a little while, she was alone. They’d seen her sneak out three times in the last two weeks. She was good, but they were better.

Timing was everything. Sneaking in and out was a little iffy. If she was gonna get caught by her parents, it would be either as she left the house or when she came home. If for some reason the adults heard her while she was trying to get away from the house and they were doing the job, things could get bad fast. Their safest grab would be when she was coming home before she had a chance to do something stupid. Or leaving wherever it was she’d gone to party.

He wasn’t really worried. Teenagers could be counted on to make stupid decisions. They had enough information on her and when she made a wrong move they’d be there.

The Greene Home

Monday, September 24

Detective Terri Johnson sat in her car in front of the home of Carol Greene and her eight year-old granddaughter, Lily. She fiddled with her radio, then checked her vanity mirror. She rarely wore lipstick but this was a special occasion.

She was fifteen minutes early. If Terri sat here much longer, one of the neighbors would probably call the police to report a suspicious vehicle. A stalker. It would be a problem. She put her foot on the brake and began to push the button for the keyless ignition. She’d drive around town for a bit. Should’ve thought of that first. Nerves had gummed up her thinking.

The door of the home opened and Carol Greene waved her in.
Crap. Caught.

Chest tight and heart thrumming Terri waved back, grabbed her purse and took a moment to breathe. This visit was as important to the two people who lived in that house as it was to her. At least the three of them wouldn’t be alone.

Thank God they wouldn’t be alone
.

Terri set her phone to vibrate and made sure her weapon remained well concealed under her jacket as she exited her car. She pinned a smile to her face and hoped it didn’t come across like a grimace. Terri felt like she had slipped under water and desperately needed to come up for air. She put one foot in front of the other until she got to the door.

“Detective Johnson, thank you for coming.” The older woman pressed her hands against her thighs and gave them a wipe.

Carol Greene’s body language bounced into Terri’s consciousness, penetrated the insecurity that surrounded her like a veil of water and released her, throwing her to the surface where she could breathe again. “Please call me Terri.”

The woman relaxed and took a deep breath of her own. “Terri. Thank you.”

Mrs. Greene held the door open and stepped aside while Terri entered the living room. The floorboards of the house, a small Victorian like ninety percent of the houses in Aspen Falls of a certain age, creaked under her weight. The home had been lovingly maintained for decades, but time had begun to show through the patches. Carol Greene had raised both a daughter and a granddaughter on her own before her illness. Cancer didn’t leave much time for carpentry.

“You know Krysta Corinn, our attorney. And you also know Myrna Kittredge with Child Services.” Even though the introductions were unnecessary, Terri appreciated the slow dance toward the reason for her visit. Everyone sat around the dining room table, coffee cups in front of them. A delicate plate in the middle of the table held a carefully displayed pile of untouched cookies.

Terri glanced around and Myrna Kittredge anticipated her question. “Lily is playing outside with one of our caregivers to give us a few minutes.”

Krysta Corinn cleared her throat. “Terri, we’re here to make sure we’re all on the same page regarding Lily’s future, and if we’re in accordance, to allow you and the girl to begin to get to know each other. You were instrumental in assuring Lily’s mother a safe place to stay and raise her child when her ex-husband became volatile, a fact important both to Lily’s mother, her grandmother,” she nodded toward Carol, “and to Lily herself. When Carol learned through Ms. Kittredge that you had been trying to adopt a child she contacted me.”

Terri looked at Carol Greene. “I was so sorry to hear of your illness.”

The grandmother nodded.

“Mrs. Greene, I cannot begin to tell you how honored I am that you would consider allowing me to finish raising your granddaughter. When I worked your daughter’s case I found her to be a woman of exceptional strength when it came to Lily.” She struggled to find the right words. “Your daughter had so much courage. She brought honor to both you and her daughter. Like too many other women she fell in love with a man not worthy of her, and when she discovered her mistake she tried to correct it. She made a decision that cost her life. In many ways I feel like I failed her. Somehow I should have been there. But in my heart of hearts, even with the way things turned out, I know she made the right decision.”

“Detective Johnson—Terri—I was never more proud of Deirdre than when she made the decision to leave her husband. There’s no way you could have prevented her murder. He would have gotten to her sooner or later. Because of you she at least had a few months of freedom. You helped her realize her value as a daughter, a mother and a woman. She respected you. She would want Lily to have a role model like you. Even if I didn’t have this, this… ” her hand fluttered in front of her chest, “I would want you in Lily’s life.”

“Does Lily know you’re ill?” Terri asked.

Carol Greene’s eyes filled with tears, and she nodded. “She’s a smart little girl. She knew something was going on and I’ve never lied to her.”

A door slammed shut. “Is this her?” All of the adults sitting at the table turned to look at the source of the question.

Terri saw a girl, tall for eight years old, standing in the doorway, arms crossed. Her chin lifted a fraction at the sudden attention—or it could be Terri had a lot to learn about the stances of little girls.

Terri tried to swallow—to say something—but her mouth had gone dry.

The Benavides Home

Monday, September 24

Chase was updating the file. He hated paperwork, even if it was at the computer. He thought maybe he’d be able to get home for a few minutes and grab an early dinner with his family before returning to work.

Whit knocked on his door and came in. “We’ve got a situation you should be aware of.”

This can’t be good.
“What?”

“There’s been a fire at the Benavides home.”

Shit.

Chase threw his car into park and pushed open the door, searching for any member of the Benavides family. Acrid smoke continued to billow from hot spots around the home. The tidy yard in the front, the part that had not been consumed by fire, had been trampled by those fighting to save the structure.

He saw Mrs. Benavides sitting off by herself on a lawn chair in the front yard. The tiny woman was bundled into a thick down coat with at least three scarves wrapped around her neck and head. Relief washed over him. He rushed toward her and dropped to his knees.

“You!” She spat in his face.

Chase carefully removed his handkerchief, grateful one more time that his wife made him carry them every single day. He backed away from the woman he’d been so concerned about and wiped his face.

“This all your fault. My daughter dead and now we lose in fire.” The woman sat up straighter. “All you. First Rachelle, and now… this
your
fire.”

Chase watched her mouth work, seeking enough saliva for another attack. Before she could work up another round he asked her, “Where’s Elizabeth?”

“She come home from her walk with Daniel.” The older woman softened. Apparently she liked the detective who had been escorting her daughter the last couple of days. “Then she go to the market for dinner.” The older woman paused and her voice changed. “I need go out to garden to get fresh herbs. Killing frost any day now. We need use.” Ramona Benavidez’s eyes teared as she looked at her home.

Chase remembered his grandmother. Even in the midst of tragedy, the practical needs of feeding and clothing her family drew her attention. He looked at the smoldering ruin of a kitchen. Using the last of the summer herbs was the last thing she should have been concerned about. No kitchen remained in which herbs could be put to any use. At least she and her daughter were safe.

Chase excused himself and walked up to the FD captain. “Hey, Pat. What’s your take on this fire?

“Funny you should ask. No doubt about it, this fire started because someone wanted the house to burn.”

“How can you know so soon?”

“You mean other than how fast the flames engulfed the entire structure? Or the heat? And the warning sign on the garage? Walk around to the back and take a look.”

Chase moved through a group of firefighters. Behind the house, spray-painted on the wall of the detached garage, he read the words “QUIT TALKING BITCH.” Not especially unique but they’d gotten their point across.

Elizabeth was out of this investigation even if he had to put her in protective custody.

He went back to talk to the captain.

“It’s not a total loss, Chase. A small burn area in the front, which we were able to control quickly. Another flash point in the back got most of the kitchen, but the rest of the house probably didn’t even have much smoke damage. Winds don’t usually help us but this time they did.”

“Other than the graffiti on the garage, can you prove arson?”

“No doubt. But arson just enough to make a point.” The captain stopped and sniffed. “You know someone who would want to make a point to this family, Detective? Do you know who wrote the message on the garage wall?”

“We’re working on it.”

“Work faster. A warning is one thing. Next time I don’t think they’ll be so particular about what burns.”

Elizabeth Benavides blasted up next to him, her anger and fear melding into a formidable female ready to do her own kind of battle. “What the hell happened? Mamá said I should ask you.”

“Elizabeth, I appreciate your desire to help. And you have. But that’s over now.”