Shadow of Death, page 8
“Right,” Loretta said. She smiled bitterly. “I will call you and let you know when Ted and Candy get here. And I know they will be eager to help in any way. But you might do better talking to Jasmine Drew.”
“Oh, we will talk to her,” Hunter assured her.
“What about work?” Amy said.
“He had friends at the college, of course. We attended teas and things like that through the years. He was in the History Department. I don’t know if they can help you, but a number of people in his department knew him fairly well. I wouldn’t know who to say exactly, but if you just speak with the dean, I’m sure he can tell you more.”
“We will follow up with everything,” Amy assured her.
Loretta managed something of a smile. “Thank you,” she told Amy. “You made me feel...a little better about myself.”
“Good. Because his death is certainly not your fault. We can never hate ourselves for feeling pain when we’ve been betrayed. I’m hoping the very best for you and your children.”
“Thank you,” Loretta whispered.
“And thank you for the coffee,” Hunter said.
The woman managed a real smile. “I do brew a great cup of coffee!”
“That you do,” Amy agreed. She and Hunter rose. Loretta saw them through the house to the front door and waved.
“Am I driving?” Hunter asked.
“You are. Something about that name...”
Amy had her cell phone out and pulled up her email. She looked at one of the lists Andy Mason had provided for them, and then quickly looked over at Hunter.
“We’re not going to find Jasmine Drew—not at Fanny’s Fancy Females, anyway.”
“Oh?”
“I believe she’s on this list. Not as Jasmine, but as Jennifer. Jennifer Drew. And she was reported missing by her boss—Thomas Mallery of Fanny’s Fancy Females. She has been noted as missing... She’s down as having been gone at about the same time as Gavin Peterson.”
“Two sinners,” Hunter said, glancing briefly at Amy. “Two sinners—guilty of lust.”
* * *
Brenda Hayes greeted them at the door to the row townhouse she had shared with Estelle Benedict. She was composed, but her face was drawn and weary, as if she had spent a great deal of time crying in the last hours. In her midthirties, she had straight shoulder-length dark hair and, in contrast, bright green eyes. She had evidently been having an “at-home” day, but even so, the velour sweats she was wearing somehow appeared almost tailored on her.
“Please, come in. I—I’m sorry, forgive me, I’m still trying to accept...to believe. And yet I knew in my heart Estelle was gone. We... Well, she was the love of my life,” she said flatly, eyeing them, as if waiting for judgment.
“I am so, so sorry!” Amy said. “I wish so badly there was something I could say that would comfort you—but she is gone, and the best that we can offer anyone is our determination to see her killers face justice.”
Brenda nodded. She was going to cry again.
“I’m sorry!” she whispered.
“No, no, it’s all right,” Hunter assured her, giving her a gentle pat on the shoulder. “It’s all right.”
After a minute, Brenda composed herself. She swept out an arm, indicating they should come in.
The parlor of the little townhouse was charming with a comfortable sectional sofa taking up the front corner of the room, a mantel filled with pictures to the left, and an amazingly large television screen facing the seating.
“A beautiful home,” Amy murmured.
“Thank you! It was... Now...it’s just empty,” Brenda whispered. “We bought that mammoth television screen during COVID. We both worked a lot from home. Oh, that’s how we met. I don’t know what you know, but I’m a bonds attorney, too. Well, I wasn’t going into politics—I personally hate politics. Politician might be synonymous with liar. Except for Estelle! She was so good. We all know there are issues involving color, race, religion—and sexual identification. Estelle never denied her preference, but it wasn’t something she harped on. Oh, she’d speak up. She was an absolute believer that all men and women are created absolutely equal. But in that vein, she was focused on American medical benefits, social security, and immigration. And usually...” she said, pausing to wince, “even Estelle’s so-called political enemies admired and respected her. It’s hard to hate someone who refuses to hate in return, who searches and finds an answer to every question, who...” She paused, shaking her head again.
“You reported her missing, right?” Hunter asked quietly.
“I did. It took me a while to get the police to write a report. She had gone into her office. I knew the minute she didn’t come home after work that something was wrong, horribly wrong. But she’s an adult, and I’m not blaming the police, but they had to wait so long to file a report. Then others from her office began calling them and pretty soon, we all knew she was missing. The detective on her case believed—and still believes, if I’m not mistaken—that a political rival killer her or had her killed or had something to do with her disappearance.”
“But you don’t believe that?” Amy asked quietly.
“I told you. Estelle had a way about her. We’d be an amazing country if every person up in Congress was like her. She listened to others. She never resorted to name-calling. She could come up with a compromise on any issue.”
“I would have loved to have known her!” Amy said, rising and walking over to the mantel. Estelle had been blond with dark eyes, almost in perfect contrast to Brenda Hayes. The mantel held numerous pictures of the two of them together, on a beach, at Red Rocks, and at what appeared to be a food bank where they were dishing out plates of food side by side.
“It couldn’t have been a political enemy, right?” Brenda asked. “They—they found her in a pit with other bodies...lots of other bodies. What would that have to do with politics?”
“We don’t think—” Amy began.
“We are just beginning our investigation,” Hunter interrupted quietly. “But please rest assured this is a number one case. Police and agents from the local and federal levels are on this. We will investigate every possible angle.”
Brenda looked at Amy and said, “It’s my fault. Our fault. For being...what we are.”
“We don’t know that to be true at all,” Amy said. She took a deep breath, looking at Hunter before continuing. “Only ignorant people hurt others for reasons having to do with a person’s personal choices, or with their color or ethnicity or any other reason.”
“And those people do exist? Why? Why do they care what others do in their own homes?” she whispered. “We never forced anything on anyone else! We even... Oh, we barely touched each other anywhere that was public, because people do judge and they can be hateful.”
“Brenda, I...”
“We know that,” Hunter said. “But remember, we are investigating every possible angle. Do you have family? Is there anyone who can be with you and help you get through this?”
She nodded, smiling with wet eyes. “My brother is coming. He loved Estelle, too. He would volunteer anytime she needed him. She would have... She would have changed the world. She was so full of both love and reason and...”
Hunter handed her a business card. “Both our numbers are on that. If you can think of anything helpful, please let us know. Or if you just need us, please call.”
“You two are...good,” Brenda said, trying to offer a smile. “Thank you. And I—I will be all right, and if I can think of anything that might help...”
“Did she receive any threats?” Amy asked her.
“Not that I know about. I’m telling you, not even rivals or so-called enemies hated her—she was that good,” Brenda said. “Why? Why would anyone do anything like this? To Estelle—to anyone!”
“We will do our best to find out,” Amy murmured.
Brenda nodded again and walked with them to the door. When they stepped out, they thanked her. She thanked them again.
As they drove away, Hunter slowed the car and looked back. Amy turned to do the same.
Another car had driven up to the townhouse. A man got out. The door to the house opened and Brenda Hayes rushed out and hugged the man.
“Her brother. I’m glad he got here,” Hunter murmured.
“I am, too. Brenda is devastated. And it’s so tragic. Estelle sounds as if she was an incredible person and would have done wonderful things in the future.”
“I agree.”
“You’re not going to say Estelle sounds so good that we should worry?”
“I’m not always cynical,” Hunter said. “There was something about Brenda’s words that rang true. She didn’t gush. She never searched for words. Of course, as much as she impressed me, I could be wrong. I just doubt it in this case. Also, Estelle was a victim. And I sure as hell don’t see Brenda as someone who would be mixed up in whatever this is. Then again, though this is just about the longest damn day ever, we’ve only just begun. So. Now we should—”
“Head out and start searching the areas Carey drew up for us. Call Andy, get the reports to him on what little we’ve discovered and find out what he might have found out—or if anyone else working on this has reported in.”
He arched a brow to her and looked at his watch.
“So far we’ve been to the morgue, to Barrington Advertising, to see the loved ones of two victims, and now—”
“You know you’re ready to keep going,” she said. “I know you. You’re trying to be reasonable, but you want to keep going as much as I do.”
“Yeah, well, yeah. I guess we can eat one meal a day. If we stop for food, we’ll lose a ton of daylight.”
“Loretta Peterson really did brew great coffee. I drank a lot of it. I’m fine. But we can do drive-through burgers.”
“Drive-through burgers it is. I’ll find something quickly. Once we head out to some of these areas Carey put down for us, there’s not much food to be found.”
“We’re heading almost an hour out of the city—and to the best of my knowledge, some areas close at dusk.”
Hunter glanced her way quickly, his expression dry.
“I don’t think Don Blake cares about the rules if he is hiding there. And there’s so much wilderness, all the forested area is not under any kind of park control,” Hunter said. “Study the map. And once we hit the area, give me an idea of the closest road to complete nothing. There are still some old shacks around. If Blake is alive and hiding, that might be just what he’d see as a perfect place. And call Andy, please. Tell him what we’re doing. We’ll see if we can get some help, though most likely others would want to start first thing in the morning.”
“I will call Andy. I don’t know why, Hunter, but I feel it’s incredibly important we move as quickly as possible on this. And whatever we cover with the daylight we have left, we won’t have to cover tomorrow.”
“Wow. Good point,” Hunter murmured dryly. “Call Andy. And after that—”
“I’m bringing up a map on Google,” Amy quickly assured him.
“I have been here before,” Hunter murmured.
“What?”
“I have been in this exact area before. I can’t believe I didn’t realize—or remember—that until now.”
“You were here when you worked with Andy before?”
He nodded. “We prowled the area where we’re headed looking for a kidnap victim.”
“And?”
“We were lucky. We found him.”
“You still want a map? Or you have an idea.”
“A few. There’s an old cabin up one of the trails, and it leads to a wide, level area—a plateau. There’s an old tower there, too. I believe hunters once used it. And the land isn’t part of any federal program.”
“Is the cabin on any map?”
“Maybe not. Okay, google old cabins in this area. I’m pretty sure ownership is outlawed now, but the structures were never torn down. They were just left to decay and fall to ruin.”
“Okay...”
She called Andy first; he would send reinforcements immediately—even if they’d only have an hour or so of light left by the time they got there.
Hunter found a fast-food drive-through, and they ate while he drove. He was surprisingly good at it, Amy thought, somewhat amused at his agility to down a burger and keep his eyes on the road and his hands on the wheel.
But then again, neither of them ever had normal working hours.
Hunter knew the place better than he had remembered. He found the highest point on a dirt road where he could park the car, and then he showed Amy a trail she would have never found on her own because the forest here was heavy.
“Spruces,” he told her. “All kinds. Thick and heavy and hiding many a secret, I imagine.”
They climbed together with Hunter in the lead. He glanced back at her.
“How are you doing, flatlander?”
“Younger than you,” she reminded him, even if it was only by a few years. “You having trouble old man? Thirties—I think we’re supposed to be fit and prime for a while yet!”
“I have never argued that. You are absolutely prime,” he teased.
But a minute later, he held up. Glancing at his watch and looking to the sky, he shook his head. “The cabin is that way. The tower and the plateau are that way.”
“So, we split up. You go right, I’ll go left.”
“Amy, call for backup if—”
“If I see anything at all, you will know,” she promised. “And I may be the better shot between the two of us.”
“You may be good, but—”
“But?”
“I really am a crack shot.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m not.”
He laughed. “Okay, okay. I know how capable you are. But call—”
“And you do the same!”
“Of course.”
Amy looked at the sky. The night was coming quickly.
“Maybe I am crazy,” she murmured.
“You are, but that’s okay. You’re crazy in a good way. You’re following your instincts. And we’re all a little crazy. But hopefully in a good way.”
“I like that reasoning,” she told him.
He grabbed her and pulled her close, kissed her briefly, then let her go. She smiled as she watched him turn toward the left.
And she turned to the right.
What he had said about the trees was true; they were plentiful with heavy branches. She walked along, searching the ground and the branches, trying to see if anything offered her the suggestion someone had been by recently. And even searching for signs as she was and despite the coming darkness, she knew why people loved Colorado so much—it was beautiful here.
The air was fresh and clear, the scent of the spruces was mild and pleasant. The light breeze that moved around her helped create an aura of peace and nature’s majesty.
The few remnants of daylight that had been left were drifting away, but to Amy’s surprise, it didn’t grow extremely dark. And she realized it was because a full moon was rising even as the sun was falling, and it cast a strange glow down upon the ground. Shadows remained; the darkness of the trees remained. But she could see ahead of her, and she could see the tower Hunter had talked about or the remains of what had been a tower.
She was almost there where she paused, dead still for a minute, listening.
Then she knew that she was right; she was hearing voices.
Hikers? Out this late while the night was coming on? Teenagers seeking absolute privacy? A drug deal? Or...
She moved carefully forward, realizing she was almost at the plateau, a place where the trees stopped growing because it was solid rock.
And there were people there. At first, she couldn’t see how many. They talked among themselves but she couldn’t make out the words.
She moved closer and closer against a giant spruce, letting the great arms of the tree shelter her from sight.
They looked like...
An odd assortment of normal people. Dressed for a climb. She saw an older woman clearly in the moonlight, and then she saw a young couple with a child—a boy—about ten years old.
Amy stepped back and pulled out her cell, calling Hunter and whispering to him what she was seeing. He was coming. He was on his way, but they were in opposite directions. She needed to keep hidden and observe until she had backup.
There were more people coming now, just dark shapes in the moonlight. They seemed to rise from a sloping trail on the other side of the plateau.
She watched as the figures gathered around a flattened rock that seemed to be just about in the center of the area. Worn by weather, the rock itself seemed to glisten in the moonlight.
A man stepped forward and lifted his hands; the others bowed in reverence.
Apparently, he was their leader, their priest, their shaman, their messiah. When he had received that honor due him, he began speaking. “We are gathered here—and you are the blessed ones, the ones with ears to hear the message, with hearts to understand. Hallelujah!”
“Hallelujah!” his flock responded.
So far, the group appeared...
Just like any group going to church or a temple.
Appearances could be deceiving.
And while this group looked different, she had seen such an event before, and it had been terrifying and horrible...no matter how “normal” these people, or even the leader, appeared to be. No, the leader wasn’t wearing a dark-hooded cloak or vestments of any kind but rather a white jacket that appeared more like something a doctor might wear.
She tried to count the people flocking around him. They were all in different forms of dress as well—mostly jeans or khakis and sweaters or jackets. They were both sexes and appeared to be many ages, from the older woman to the young boy.
