Never Run, page 9
"All very good questions," Owen said.
She turned onto the highway at Snyder, and then onto the next road, which wound through the hills.
Beyond, was the road that led between the woods and the lake, and down the dirt road where the Knights lived.
May parked, feeling nerves surge inside her again. Now that she was actually here, she felt as if her actions had been impossibly reckless.
She'd defied Jack’s orders - well, sort of. They’d used the hotline as an excuse because they had been instructed to do so. But she didn't want her boss to think badly of her or be disappointed in her.
In fact, May felt absolutely torn as she sat in the car, biting her lip as she stared at the house ahead of her, knowing that this decision would have repercussions.
"I think we’ve already made up our minds. Shall we go and knock on their door?" Owen asked.
May took a deep breath, glad that he understood how she felt and clearly felt the same. She was lucky to have such a perceptive investigation partner, she thought. She’d never gotten to know Owen that well, as he’d only moved into their precinct last year after transferring from the neighboring county where he’d begun his police career. But now that the chips were down, Owen was showing himself to be a strong and tenacious person.
It was time to make the call.
"Let’s do it," she agreed.
She found herself tackling the walk to the front door with a sense of dread. So much could go wrong, and they were deviating from their mandate. But Owen’s presence gave her courage as she headed towards the house, her heart hammering.
When she knocked, the door was opened almost immediately by a woman dressed in black, with a pale, tear-stained face.
Undoubtedly this was Savannah's mother, and May felt her heart clench with sympathy.
"Mrs. Knight, I'm deputy Moore. I'm so sorry about your daughter," May said.
The woman nodded wordlessly.
"Do you feel able to speak to us for a minute?"
"Sure, sure. Come in."
Moving uncertainly, as if in a dream, Mrs. Knight stepped back and allowed them inside.
The home was spotless. May felt comforted that Mrs. Knight and her family were obviously getting a lot of help and comfort from neighbors. In the small lounge, flowers lined the mantelpiece, and she saw an array of pies and cookies on the dining room table through the archway.
"We've been monitoring the hotline," May said, quickly giving the explanation for why they were there. "Based on a call we received, I'd like to find out what your daughter's activities were over the past couple of weeks, before she went missing."
"Her activities?"
"We're trying to pinpoint a common thread," May explained.
"Oh. Oh, I see." Mrs. Knight sighed. "Well, she went to the college in Snyder to practice singing. She had lessons there every week."
May noted that down. "Go on?" she said.
"She also had a part-time job at the local coffee shop, Beans." Mrs. Knight added. "She worked there on Saturdays. It helped pay the bills."
"Okay?" May said.
"She'd been doing a lot of swimming," she said. "With the weather warmer, she was practicing, hoping that she could get onto a team when she went to college. She did a lot of road cycling. She used to love to ride. She'd often go out on the road with friends."
"Did she belong to any clubs?"
"Yes, she belonged to the local swimming club here in Snyder. She didn't belong to a cycling club." Mrs. Knight frowned. "She went camping a few weeks ago with friends, at the campsite outside of Harrisville. Adventure Lake, I think it's called. And she went sailing a couple of times. She was enjoying that. She rented a sailboat from the marina in Caspian - that's the town to the west of here. I'm not sure what the name of the rental place is. I’ve never been a sailor myself."
"Thank you."
Scribbling furiously, May felt encouraged they now had many more leads.
"That's all I can remember," Mrs. Knight said. "If there's anything else, can I call you?"
"Of course."
Knowing she was now stepping far out of line, May handed over one of her contact cards.
"I'm glad you came around. I wasn't ready to speak to anyone before," Mrs. Knight admitted. "But now, I'm eager to do whatever it takes. If I can find out who - who did this terrible thing - and stop any other parents from suffering the same tragedy, at least it will be something," she said, smoothing her hands over her face.
"You've been so helpful. I am sure this information will be valuable," May said.
She glanced at Owen, who nodded. It was time to go.
"Goodbye, Mrs. Knight," May said. "I'm so sorry."
Mrs. Knight nodded, sniffing.
May got up and headed out of the door, wishing she was brave enough to give the woman a hug.
They got into the car, and May headed onto the road.
"That was interesting," Owen said. "I felt so sorry for Mrs. Knight. Seeing how sad and traumatized she was, shows me we're doing the right thing."
"I hope so."
"We're beginning to have some leads to follow. So, what's the next step?
"I think we should speak to the other victim’s parents," May said. She now felt committed to their path. They couldn't back down now but must press forward. "The other victim was Shelby Ryan. We need to ask her parents the same questions, and hopefully we can pick up the similarities in their versions."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Twenty minutes later, May drove into the town of Misty Vale, where Shelby Ryan had lived. This small town was further away from where they were, on the opposite side of Eagle Lake.
She had no idea where Kerry and Adams were working and hoped to goodness that she didn't end up bumping into them while on her illicit investigation.
"The Ryans live at number five, Pine Avenue," Owen said, reading from the case notes he'd called up on his phone.
"Number five," she said as she reached a cul-de-sac.
She pulled into the driveway and switched off the engine.
"This it?" Owen asked.
"Let's go," May said firmly. This time, breaking the rules felt marginally easier.
She walked up to the door and knocked.
A few moments later, the door was opened by a stressed looking man in his forties, with a gaunt face. He was wearing a creased plaid shirt, his hair was tousled, and his eyes were red from crying.
"Mr. Ryan?" May asked sympathetically.
"That's me," he said. "What is it? Are you the police?"
"I'm Deputy Sheriff Moore, and this is my colleague, Deputy Lovell," May explained.
"How can I help you?"
He was clearly too distracted to invite them in, but that was okay. May was comfortable asking the questions on the doorstep.
"We're looking to identify some common threads in these crimes," she said gently. "I know Shelby moved out a few days before she disappeared, but it would really help us if you could tell us what she did and where she went before that time. If she attended any events, went camping, went sailing?"
"She loved to do arts and crafts, and she was a keen runner. She was part of a club. She socialized a lot with her friends. She had a busy calendar, with it being springtime."
"Do you remember the name of the club she joined?"
"The Running Wild Club," he said. "She went on a few camping trips with friends last summer, but she hadn't been on any this year. She went out on a boat with friends a few weeks ago, for her birthday."
"Where did she hire the boat from?" May asked, exchanging a quick glance with Owen.
"Lake Adventures. At the marina in Caspian," he said.
"Anything else?"
"I can't recall anything else. But our relationship was strained some of the time, because she was a rebellious girl, as many teens are. She might have been to other places without telling us," he said sadly.
"I'm so very sorry for your loss. And thank you for the information," May said.
They turned away as the front door closed behind them.
Walking back to the car, May felt excited. She thought they were onto something important.
They had identified a common thread. In the past few weeks, both the victims had hired boats from the marina in Caspian, Lake Adventures.
"Let's go to the marina," Owen said. "Seems like that should be our next step, to find out who works there, and whether this killer might be operating at the marina and picking victims from the clientele."
*
It was a quick drive to Lake Adventures, because Caspian neighbored Misty Vale. As May and Owen drove through town, heading for the marina, she thought it was an attractive place. In a locality flanked by woods, hills and water, it had well-kept sidewalks, pretty yards, a small school, and signage for campsites and hiking trails.
The marina was even more scenic. Flotillas of brightly colored boats of all shapes and sizes marked its presence at the lake's edge. She parked nearby and they climbed out.
"Let's find out what we can," she said, feeling hopeful that this thread of logic might lead them to the killer.
"How do you want to play this?" Owen asked.
"We need to speak to the owner. Find out more about him. Is it a one-person business; does he have help? Let’s assess him as a person and see what we feel."
There was a small office building right at the marina, with a few vehicles outside. She and Owen walked down the wooden walkway.
The office building also proved to be a well-stocked shop, offering outdoor gear and equipment.
The manager, a man in his forties, was behind the till, ringing up a purchase for a customer.
He was a grim-faced man who didn't look as if he smiled a lot, May thought, on first impressions. He sure wasn't as bright and cheery as the business was, she decided, with her suspicion intensifying.
She waited until the customer had left. Then she and Owen moved to the till.
"Good morning," she introduced herself and Owen. "Deputy Sheriff Moore and Lovell. We're here to ask some questions regarding the recent murders."
His gaze slid away. May felt her stomach tighten.
"I'm Harry Bridges, the owner here," he said. "I've heard about these murders. What do you want to know?"
"Did you have any recent interaction with either of the victims?"
"Well, yes, I did," he said.
"How?"
"They rented boats from here. It's nothing unusual, though. We get a lot of teens doing that. My least favorite customers," he grumbled, glancing at the hard-covered rental register that lay on the desk.
"Why is that?" May felt as if she was on the hunt now. This man definitely had a grudge against the younger generation.
"They don't look after the boats, they leave them messy, and they're careless and irresponsible when they take them out. My staff has to spend hours cleaning up after them. I had to replace the engine on one of the motorboats, because one of them burned it out when they attempted to go water skiing. It's so infuriating."
"How do you handle this?"
"I try to remain professional. But if I had my way, I'd ban under twenty-fives from the place entirely."
The man's narrow mouth set in a grim line.
May could tell he wasn't a big fan of that age group at all. But was he the killer? She couldn't wait to question him and find out if he had an alibi.
At that moment, a woman called his name from outside. Harry Bridges stood up. But, to May's surprise, the first thing he did was grab hold of a crutch that was lying out of her sight.
Then he struggled around the reception desk.
May saw that his leg was in a plaster cast from the foot, all the way up to the thigh.
"Cycling accident," he said, seeing her gaze as he grimaced in discomfort. "My leg broke in four places and had to be pinned. I've been in this damned cast for four weeks now. Got another two to go."
He limped heavily to the door.
"What is it?" he called.
May stared at Owen, who was looking as disappointed as she felt.
"It couldn't have been him," Owen whispered.
May decided this might also explain the man’s sour attitude. He was in discomfort and pain. That was enough to make anyone grumpy and dislikeable.
"He would have been too injured to have committed those crimes," she agreed.
May cursed under her breath. It was a dead end. Just to check the box, while Harry was conversing with the person outside, May paged through the register.
She saw Shelby and Savannah's names there, but she did not see Cassandra Cole's name written down in the past couple of weeks. So the prom queen had not hired a boat recently.
Harry limped back to the desk.
"What about your staff?" May asked, keen to try to explore every possibility while she was here. "Do you have anyone helping you with bookings and maintenance?"
"My mother helps me with the bookings. She's very thorough. She's not in today, though. It's her day off. Then my wife and sons are helping with the cleaning and maintenance while I'm injured. My sons are twins, only thirteen years old, but hard workers."
"So it's a real family business?" May asked.
"That it is," he agreed.
May thought of another question.
"Did any of the customers, especially the girls, ever complain about anyone watching them? Anything that made them uncomfortable?"
Harry paused. Then he nodded thoughtfully.
"A week or two ago, I do remember one of the girls came back and complained there was 'some creep' watching them out on the water. She wanted her money back, but I refused. It clearly states that boats are hired at your own risk."
"Did she give a description?"
"I never asked for details. And like I said, I didn't take that complaint seriously, because there's always drama with those young girls. Always. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. My sons might know more, but they're at school now, and only here this afternoon."
May decided that even though Harry himself was not a suspect, this information could be very valuable. She needed to find out more about this creep on the water.
But at that moment, Owen's radio crackled.
Quickly, he grabbed it.
To May's shock, she heard Kerry's voice, clear and triumphant.
"We've made an arrest!" her sister said. "We're incoming with a suspect. We'll be at the police department in twenty minutes!"
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"Twenty minutes!" May saw her own consternation reflected in Owen's eyes.
They'd been breaking the rules, and unless they were able to get back in time, they'd be caught.
"We need to hustle," he said. "I think it'll be quicker going around to the west."
They raced back to the car. May jumped in, started up, and floored it.
As the green, forested scenery sped by, she kept one eye on the road and the other on the car clock that was inexorably counting down the time.
"I'm so disappointed that didn't work out," Owen said. "We should be the ones bringing a suspect in."
May felt the same. Also, she felt utter disbelief that her sister could have caught the killer so fast.
May was very aware of the fact that Kerry sifted clues and information in a way that was different than her. But her sister was not a miracle worker, and with such a glaring lack of any solid leads so far, May suspected that if she had identified any possibility this soon, she was bringing them in to make herself look good.
It was unpleasant to think that, but she couldn’t help it.
Now that they were on the west road, the traffic was light, and she was able to make better time.
"We'll get our chance," she said, taking a corner a little too fast.
"You don't think the case is closed now?" Owen asked.
"I doubt it," May said darkly.
She wasn't about to give up until she knew for certain who had killed Shelby and Savannah.
"I guess we'll just have to wait and see," Owen replied.
May gripped the wheel, aware that this was her torment. At least they were nearly there. She could see the row of cars, parked outside the Fairshore police department.
To her immense relief, the Lexus wasn't there yet. But Jack's cruiser was there. May noted that with a twinge of guilt.
May parked in her space and they hastily climbed out. They sprinted through the back entrance of the police department and took the stairs two at a time.
To her consternation, she saw that Jack had already come out of the back office and was watching them.
He had a very strange look on his face.
May was absolutely certain that Jack knew they had been breaking the rules. She felt a surge of fear, a sense of foreboding.
They'd been seen.
For a moment, she stood still, staring at him. In her heart, she knew she'd been caught. He was here to reprimand them.
Looking stern, Jack pointed to the back office. May hustled inside. Jack followed, closing the door.
"What is it?" she asked.
"I'll get right to the point," he said. "I received a phone call earlier on from Mrs. Knight, Savannah’s mother."
May jumped guiltily.
"She wanted to thank me for the sympathetic way you handled the interview."
Jack's face was deadpan. May's heart accelerated.
"I - I - " she stammered.
"I told her we were thankful for the feedback, especially seeing it was such a difficult time for her and would continue to do our best." He sighed. "But May, I must warn you - you can't investigate this. It's the FBI's domain now. I know how you feel. I feel the same. But I need you to step away, or there will be political issues, not to mention logistical ones."
"I'm sorry," May muttered.
"You can monitor the hotline. But that's it."
“Can I at least meet with Kerry? Because I have a lead, Jack. There’s something I think she needs to follow up on.”
He sighed, and for a moment she saw he was as frustrated as she was.
“The agents have expressly asked for no interference, May. Your name, in particular, was mentioned. They seem to have a clear plan in place. So for now, politics being what they are, I think we must wait, and trust them.”
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