Authors: Cheryl Bradshaw
I left Mr. Tate’s house and went to the store. He probably wouldn’t eat anything I made anyway, but I’d never been good at sitting around and doing nothing. I bought everything I needed for my mother’s homemade chicken soup. Whether he ate it or not would be up to him, but I was going to offer it either way.
When I got back to the hotel, Cade was waiting in the parking lot.
“What have you got there?” he said.
“I thought I’d make some soup.”
“Okay?”
“It’s for Mr. Tate.”
“Need any help?” he said.
“No, but you can talk to me while I make it.”
He took the bags I was carrying, and we went inside.
“I should have never put you in that position earlier,” he said. “I had no idea he’d—”
“It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last.”
“I’ve never seen him act like that.”
“Everyone is probably feeling a lot of pressure right now. I don’t take it personally.”
He sat down on the barstool. “It wasn’t you though,” he said.
“I appreciate you coming over here, but I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“No, I mean, it really wasn’t you.”
“What do you mean?”
Cade folded one hand over the other, resting them on the ledge of the bar. “Feds are on their way. Since there’s the possibility of one guy taking both kids, they’re looking at both cases.”
The feds coming in town didn’t excuse the chief’s callous behavior toward me.
“But they’ll be working with police departments in both counties, right?”
He shook his head.
“The chief says they want all evidence turned over from both departments, ours and the one in Sublette County. It doesn’t look like they want our help. They just want us to tell them what they need to know and then get out of the way. I’m not sure whether they’ll see if there’s anything they can do and then leave, or whether they’re here indefinitely.”
I thought about calling Giovanni’s brother and using his FBI connections, but then I changed my mind. He was helping track down Daniela, and even if he wasn’t, it was getting complicated enough. I didn’t want either of them to get involved.
“We better work fast then,” I said.
Cade smiled.
“What did you have in mind?”
“I have a question. I know there were no workers outside the day Savannah was abducted from the daycare, but what about the other child? Did she see anything?”
“Savannah was outside with her friend, Sierra Johnson, at the time.”
“How old is she?” I said.
“Five. And it hasn’t been easy getting information out of her. I don’t know if she even knows what she saw.”
I chopped some carrots and threw them into the pot on the stove. In another pot I stirred the chicken. “Did your father interview Sierra?”
“He tried to, and so have I, but she didn’t say much. Nothin’ we could use.”
“What did she say?”
“She told us the man drove a silver car, and she mentioned something about a black watch.”
“Now that we know the kid at Maybelle’s Market saw a silver Dodge Charger, maybe if we show a more specific picture to Sierra, she can identify it.”
“Maybe.”
“What are her parents like?” I said. “Do you think they’d let us talk to her again?”
He shrugged.
“Sierra lives with her mother. They’re divorced. She’s very protective of her daughter.”
“Maybe if I saw her alone,” I said. “The feds will question everyone. They’ll start from the beginning and cover all their bases. We need to get to Sierra before they do. After that, I probably won’t be able to talk to her or anyone else without them knowing it.”
“I don’t like the idea of you seeing her without me.”
“You said you wanted my help with this, and I know you meant together, but I’m good at talking to people, especially women. Whatever I find out, I’ll share it with you.”
It came down to a matter of trust, but I knew it wouldn’t be easy for him to put his confidence in me until I had proven myself. This would give me the opportunity.
I removed the chicken from the stove, shredded it, and added it to the pot of vegetables and broth. “When this is done, I need to run it over to Mr. Tate’s house.”
“I can do it for you.”
“I don’t mind taking it to him,” I said.
“I’ll be on my way home anyway. I can just drop it off.”
“When I stopped by earlier, he wasn’t in the mood for company. He actually asked me to leave him alone for a while.”
“I’ll set it on the doorstep, ring the doorbell, and leave.”
I poured some of the soup into a container, put it in a bag, and handed it to Cade. He leaned in, but instead of taking the soup, he said, “You’ve got an eyelash on your…”
He swept the lash from my eye with his finger but then remained there, gazing at me, our faces inches apart. I tried not to make assumptions. Up until that moment, he’d seemed more like a
pain-in-the-butt
brother than anything else. Cade remained there for several seconds, as if gauging my reaction. I was too shocked to move. He placed his hand over mine on the bag and held it there.
“I, ahh, guess you should get this to him while it’s still hot,” I said.
He took the bag. “See you tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 27
My phone rang to a number I didn’t recognize.
“Miss Monroe?”
“Who’s this?” I said.
“Jenny. Do you remember me?”
“From Maybelle’s Market?” I said.
“Yes. I thought I should tell you, Todd went in and talked to the police.”
I knew that already, but I appreciated the call anyway.
“How did it go?” I said.
“They had him sit down with one of those people who draw things.”
“A sketch artist?”
“Yes. He did the best he could. They released the sketch; it’s all over town. But the guy would be long gone by now, so I don’t really know what they think is going to happen.”
“Jenny, could you email me a copy of it?” I said.
“Sure.”
“How’s Todd doing?”
“All right. No one knows it was him. They just know someone came forward.”
I was glad to hear it, but with the feds coming, all that was all about to change. I only hoped Todd wouldn’t suffer too much for it. I ended the call with Jenny and answered another one from Giovanni.
“Have you found your sister yet?” I said.
“Last night.”
He sounded relieved. I was too.
“How is she?” I said.
“In shock, but she’s alive.”
“Did anything
happen
to her?”
“From what we understand, she was treated quite well.” He paused. “When are you coming back? I want to see you.”
“I don’t know yet,” I said. “Did you find the men who took her?”
He was quiet for a moment before responding.
“Giovanni, are you there?” I said.
“We took care of everything. I’ll be home tomorrow.”
It was just like usual. I asked questions, but only received vague answers. Our relationship had always been one-sided. I recognized that, but I thought in time, it could change, that he’d open up to me, like I had tried to do with him. Funny thing about trying to
change
a person—it never worked.
“I’d like to know more about what happened,” I said.
“And you will, but let’s talk about it later. Right now, I just want you here with me. Tell me about the case you’re working on.”
Ahh, the switch. Giovanni had mastered changing the subject whenever it suited him, which was every time I asked him something he considered too intimate to reveal. If I pushed him, I would still get nothing, and I knew it.
I told Giovanni about the two missing girls, but left most of the details out. He’d been through a grueling ordeal with his sister, and I wanted him to focus on her for the time being.
“Tell me what I can do to help you,” he said when I’d finished.
“I appreciate it, but I’m fine.”
“If you need anything, just call.”
“I will.”
I ended the call and checked my email for the flyer Jenny sent. It was just like I expected. The mind is a great thing, but in time, even the most vivid memories fade. Two years is long enough for important details to be forgotten. The sketch revealed little in the way of a unique face. There was nothing in the sketch that made the man stand out in any way. He had a square-shaped head, a defined jawline, stubble that hadn’t been shaved in a day or two, and oval-shaped sunglasses. He looked like a cop with a five o’clock shadow. Another dead end.
CHAPTER 28
Cade told me I could find Mrs. Johnson at home after three o’clock, so I arrived just after, hoping she was already there. A green Toyota of some kind was parked out front, making me optimistic.
I knocked on the door a few times and moments later it opened.
“Can I help you?”
Sierra’s mother had a petite frame and couldn’t have been much taller than about five foot two. She had a milky white face and long, straight blond hair that was so light, it was almost white in color. She didn’t look like a woman who was highly stressed, although as a single mom, she undoubtedly was on occasion.
“My name is Sloane,” I said. “I’m a friend of the Tate’s. I wondered if I could talk to you for a few minutes.
“What about?”
“Mr. Tate has hired me to investigate Savannah’s disappearance, and I was hoping I could get your permission to spend a few minutes with Sierra.”
“You’re very straightforward, Ms. Monroe.”
“In my experience, I’ve found it’s best to be honest from the get-go,” I said.
“I decided a few months ago that it was too hard on Sierra to speak to the police. She gets very scared when they question her, no matter how nice they are. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”
“Mrs. Tate is dead,” I said.
She placed a hand over her chest.
“What—when?”
“It happened a couple nights ago.”
She frowned.
“I’m very sorry. I had no idea. Please tell Noah to let me know if he needs anything.”
I nodded, and she took a step back, preparing to close the door.
“Some new information has surfaced over the past week,” I said.
“I’m glad. I hope you find Savannah. I really do. She was Sierra’s best friend. They played together almost every day, even when they weren’t at school.”
No matter how pleasant she appeared, her patience was wearing thin.
“I know you want to spare Sierra from thinking about what happened that day,” I said quickly, “but it’s just going to get worse.”
“What do you mean?”
“The FBI is getting involved for reasons I can’t really go into right now, but once they get here, you won’t have a choice. Your daughter will have to speak to them, no matter how you feel. I’m not saying this to be rude. I just thought you should know.”
“I don’t understand. She’s already met with Detective McCoy and his son a few times. There isn’t any reason to put her through it all again.”
“The FBI will be conducting its own investigation,” I said. “Whatever has happened in the past will be thrown out. From what I’ve been told, they plan on building their own case.”
She pulled the door back a few inches and contemplated what to do next. “I don’t want her to go through it all again. Can you stop it from happening?”
It would have been easy to lie to her and make a deal so I could get what I needed, but I wouldn’t have felt right about deceiving her.
“I honestly don’t know. I can promise you this—whatever I find out today I will share with Cade McCoy, and he will do everything he can to help you. But if you want my honest opinion, they’ll come anyway.”
“What should I do?”
“Is there somewhere you could take Sierra for a few days or send her?” I said. “They’ll have plenty to do when they first get here, so that might take the attention off Sierra and put it somewhere else.”
“I don’t know. I suppose.”
“I’m not telling you to avoid the FBI or not to work with them. I would never do that. But maybe if you spoke to them first, without Sierra here, you could appeal to them as a mother. It wouldn’t hurt to explain your feelings. Maybe they’ll take it under consideration.”
“I appreciate your help,” she said.
I didn’t want to push by asking her to speak with her daughter one last time, so I didn’t. In a situation like this, it all came down to respect.
I turned.
“Enjoy the rest of your day.”
Hold on a minute,” she said. “I’ll let you speak to Sierra, but just for a few minutes, and only if she is receptive to you. If she isn’t, please don’t force her.”
“I will be as sensitive and as quick as I can,” I said.
She flattened her hand. “Wait here.”
Mrs. Johnson returned a few minutes later and invited me in. “I’d like to sit in while you talk with her.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I said.
Sierra sat nervously on the living room sofa, looping her fingers around the edge of a piece of fabric from the outfit she was wearing.
“I like your dress,” I said when I walked into the room. “It’s very pretty.”
She looked at her mother but not at me. When talking to children Sierra’s age in the past, I found their attention span was minimal. I needed to keep the conversation brief. It was best to ask specific questions, making it easy for her to answer. She needed simplicity so she didn’t become confused.
I sat down on a chair next to the sofa, giving Sierra the space she needed.
“I’m trying to find your friend, Savannah,” I said.
Sierra looked over at me. “Do you know where she is?”
“Not yet,” I said. “I was hoping you could help me.”
She looked at her mom again and frowned.
“But I don’t know where she is.”
“I saw Lily the other day. We made macaroni and cheese together. She seems pretty lonely without her sister to play with.”
Sierra’s face changed. I knew she was listening to me, but she still wasn’t ready to talk. Her mother looked at me and nodded, letting me know it was okay to continue.