The Last Straw, page 13
Holy shit became the phrase of the day.
* * *
Since the Church of The Righteous was beginning to crumble, it affirmed a decision that Jordy Gooch, Jessup Wallis’s drinking buddy, had been wrestling with ever since he’d heard about the quarter of a million dollar bounty.
Granted, Jessup was drunk when he told Jordy that the preacher was sending him on a holy quest to kill a demon, but in Jordy’s mind, that just made him mean and stupid.
Then he’d seen the video and put two and two together, and he’d still stayed mum. But with Raver dead, Jordy wanted that money. He’d always wanted to live where it snowed. He’d seen it once when he was a kid, and never forgot. He could get good and lost with a quarter of a million dollars, and never be judged for where he got it.
That video was still all over social media, with the contact info and everything. So he pulled it up on his phone and wrote it all down. Now all he needed was a picture of Jessup, and he had plenty. He just needed to find one where he wasn’t drunk and laughing, then send it with the name.
* * *
Farrell Kitt was almost home. His panic to see his wife and his kids, and talk to Jeremiah, was uppermost. He was coming up on the church when he saw yellow crime scene tape across the driveway.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” he groaned.
He didn’t know what had happened, but he stomped the accelerator to put as much distance between him and the church as possible. But to get home, he also had to pass where the preacher lived, and when he saw more crime scene tape at the road leading up to Jeremiah’s house, his stomach rolled. It was all he could do not to throw up. Something bad had happened. Something worse than the bounty on his head. He was afraid to go home for fear the cops would be waiting for him, and pulled off the side of the road to call Judy. He needed to hear her voice.
It only rang once before Judy answered.
“Where are you?”
“About ten minutes from home. I just drove by the church and Jeremiah’s house, and there’s crime scene tape everywhere. What the hell happened?”
Judy started crying. “It’s just awful. The FBI came to serve warrants on Jeremiah for money laundering, and found him shot dead in the front yard.”
Farrell gasped. “What? Money laundering? But—”
“That’s not all. Jessup Wallis’s girlfriend, Britta, already put Jessup out of her house. His things were all over her porch. I don’t know if he’s come back to get them, but everyone is pointing fingers at him being one of Raver’s chosen.”
“What are they sayin’ about me?” Farrell asked.
“Nothing that I know of,” Judy said. “Your brother David came over this morning to borrow the tractor. He got himself stuck up in his back pasture. He asked where you were, and I said you’d gone into the city for a doctor’s appointment, and that you’d be home later today.”
“A doctor’s appointment? What’s supposed to be wrong with me?” Farrell asked.
“I told him you’d been feeling dizzy a lot, and I pressured you into getting a checkup. You know how high blood pressure runs in your family. It was all I could think of.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s good. Oh, God, Judy... I’m so sorry I got mixed up in this.”
“Just get your ass home,” she said.
Farrell put the car back in gear and accelerated, but there was no way to outrun the mistake that he’d made.
* * *
It was just before 8 a.m. when Charlie walked into the kitchen. He made himself a cup of coffee, then sat down at the kitchen table to call Detective Floyd, and then his phone rang. It was Hank Raines.
“Good morning, Hank. You’re up early.”
“Yes, just one of those days,” Hank said. “I have an update for you. The ATF went to serve an arrest warrant on Preston Davis, who likely instigated the hit on Raver, hoping to cut the link between them before anyone found out. He resisted arrest and pulled a gun on six armed ATF agents. Needless to say, he’s dead. And it is my understanding that the info they confiscated is leading to the arrests of the people Davis had been doing business with.”
“Good,” Charlie said.
“No problem. Have a good day,” Hank said and hung up.
Charlie reached for the notes Wyrick had given him, and called Detective Floyd. The call rang three times, and then he answered.
“Detective Floyd, Dallas PD.”
“Hey, Floyd, this is Charlie Dodge. Got a minute?”
“Yes, of course. I was just getting in the car to head to the precinct. What’s up?”
“Wyrick was running searches last night and made quite a discovery. Something you may not be aware of.”
“Like what?” Floyd asked.
“Rachel Dean isn’t the first woman to go missing from the Detter House. She’s the fourth. The first one was eleven years ago.”
“No way!” Floyd said. “We would have picked up on this ourselves if—”
“Let me finish,” Charlie said and laid out what Wyrick had told him, giving him the names of the women and the dates they went missing. But it was the inactive social security numbers for all three of the women that made the case for Wyrick’s theory.
“Oh, man. This isn’t good,” Floyd said. “I’ve only been with Missing Persons three years. I was in Homicide before that, so I had no personal info on any of these other cases. I’ll pull them immediately. I need to see why they closed the cases and start verifying the inactive numbers.”
“We’re going back to Detter House soon. Wyrick strongly believes there has to be some kind of hidden passage built into the old structure, and I learned a long time ago not to doubt her instincts.”
“Is she really psychic?” Floyd asked. “Don’t get me wrong...I’m not discounting her. But I’ve also never known anyone like her.”
“That’s because there is no one else like her,” Charlie said. “If we find out anything new, I’ll call.”
He disconnected, then laid the phone aside and was getting up to make himself some breakfast when Wyrick entered the kitchen.
“Going in low-key today, I see,” he said. “Want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? I’m gonna make myself one.”
She ignored his dig about the silver cat suit and red knee-high boots she was wearing.
“Do we have grape jelly?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Then, yes, I will have a PBGJ, but just one, thank you.”
He grinned as she went to make coffee.
PBGJ. Peanut butter and grape jelly. Perfectly Wyrick being perfectly specific.
“I called Detective Floyd. He was understandably shocked and is going to pull the old case files today. I told him we were going back to Detter House,” Charlie said.
She nodded as he spoke, but she was watching him making sandwiches, too.
“Uh... Could I have the grape jelly on one side, and the peanut butter on the other?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said and never missed a beat.
“Um, you’re using creamy peanut butter,” she said.
He paused. “Yes.”
“If we have crunchy, I would prefer that,” she added.
Charlie took a deep breath. “I’ll check.”
She nodded, then retrieved her cup of coffee from the Keurig and sat down at the table to watch the final construction, knowing full well she was aggravating Charlie Dodge’s last nerve.
Finally, the sandwiches were finished, and Charlie plated them up and carried them to the table.
“You didn’t cut mine,” Wyrick said.
Charlie turned, grabbed a paring knife from the knife block and stabbed it into the center of her sandwich.
“Knock yourself out,” he said.
Wyrick hid a grin, then proceeded to cut her sandwich in four squares.
“Hank Raines called this morning. The ATF was serving an arrest warrant on Preston Davis yesterday when he pulled a gun on them. He’s dead.”
“Cowards always choose the easy way out,” she said and stuffed one whole square into her mouth.
Charlie smirked. “Such a dainty little thing you are,” he said.
Wyrick chewed and swallowed, then licked a smear of peanut butter from her thumb. She was reaching for another piece when her phone rang. But it was the “Hallelujah” chorus ringtone that startled Charlie and sent Wyrick bolting from her chair.
“What?” he yelled.
“Someone just named one of the hit men. I have to check my email,” she said and ran.
She was gone in a flash of silver, the click of her heels marking her speed as she bolted down the hall. But Charlie wanted to see the man’s face, because her enemies were his enemies.
Wyrick had the email open, sitting motionless at the monitor, staring at a face.
“Is that one of them?” Charlie asked.
“Maybe...probably,” she said.
“What’s his name?”
“Jessup Wallis,” she said, then switched screens and pulled up a file listing the members of the Church of The Righteous. “His name is on the list of members.”
“How can you prove he’s one of the three who were sent?” Charlie asked.
“I hacked into Jeremiah Raver’s phone records when I was making the case for money laundering. Most of the calls on his phone were from parishioners, or Preston Davis. But after Barrett Taylor tried to kill me, I checked Raver’s phone records again. There were three new numbers he’d never called before, but they were local to Raver’s area—and made within the past week. One of them belonged to Barrett Taylor, and I already knew he was hit man number one. Then Raver had a call from the Dallas County Jail right after Barrett Taylor was arrested. I assumed it was a plea for Raver to get him a lawyer. So that verified one of those three numbers did belong to a hit man. I ran a search on the other two numbers. One belonged to a man named Jessup Wallis.” She pointed to the screen. “And that is Jessup Wallis. The man who turned him in is a man named Jordy Gooch. Gooch does not belong to the church, but is a local in Paulette. I’ll have to do some research to make sure he’s no relation, but I think I just got number two.”
“Location-wise, do you know where Wallis is?” Charlie asked.
“Now that I know which number is his, I enter it into my locator.”
“If he’s in Dallas, then that means you’re still in danger,” Charlie said.
“He’s not in Dallas. Neither of them are,” Wyrick said.
“How can you be so sure?” Charlie asked.
“If they’ve been notified about the video, they’ll both be worried about who knew what they were doing, and who might turn them in. They’ll be looking for a place to hide, and to deny, deny, deny the accusations.”
“Are you going to stay here in the office for a while?” he asked.
“No. Rachel Dean takes precedence over this. I’m just sending an email to Jordy Gooch, telling him verification is in progress. I’ll be back in the kitchen in a sec. Don’t eat my PBGJ.”
“As if,” Charlie said. He looked long and hard at the photo again and then left.
Wyrick paused, pulled up one of her apps, entered Jessup Wallis’s cell number, then waited for a cell tower to pick up on it. It took a few minutes, but when it did she relaxed and logged out.
Once she got back to the kitchen to finish breakfast, they talked about the pending search, but neither mentioned Rachel’s name. The days since she’d gone missing were passing, and neither they nor the police had a clue as to what had happened to her. Charlie had promised Millie he’d find Rachel, but he didn’t want to find her dead.
As Wyrick carried their cups and plates to the sink, Charlie reached for his phone.
“I’m giving the manager a heads-up that we’re coming back this morning, so he’ll be there to give us a key.”
“Good idea,” Wyrick said and loaded the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. “I’m going to get my laptop. I’ll be right back.”
She hurried away as Charlie made the call, and then waited for it to be answered.
Ten
Wayne was in the office calling a plumber when the door opened. One of the residents walked in, and Wayne held up a hand then pointed to a chair while he finished his call. As soon as he hung up, he turned and smiled.
“Sorry about that, Sonny. What’s up?”
“I have an Amazon delivery that’s supposed to arrive today. If you’ll text me when it arrives, I’ll come pick it up.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for it,” Wayne said and then looked a little closer at him. “You don’t look so good. Have you been sick?”
“No...nothing like that. But I fell the other day and haven’t been sleeping well. I’m getting better, but you know when your back goes out, it hurts like hell no matter how you stand or sit, right?”
Wayne frowned. “I’m so—” Then his cell phone rang. When he saw who was calling, he grabbed it. “Hang on a second. I need to answer this.”
Sonny nodded, then picked up a magazine as Wayne answered.
“Detter House. Wayne Dyer speaking.”
“Wayne, it’s Charlie Dodge.”
“Yes, hello, Charlie. What can I do for you?” he said.
“Wyrick and I need access to the apartment again. Can we pick up the key at your office?”
“Sure. Are you coming this morning?” Wayne asked.
“Yes. We’ll be there within the hour.”
“See you then,” Wayne said and hung up, then glanced at Sonny. “Sorry. That was Charlie Dodge again. He and his assistant are working for Rachel Dean’s family, you know...trying to help the police find her.”
Sonny frowned. “It’s so awful. Do they have any leads?”
“I have no idea,” Wayne said.
Sonny leaned forward, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair. “His assistant is that Wyrick woman, right?”
Wayne nodded. “Yes. They were here yesterday morning, but not for long. I guess they want to take a closer look or something...who knows?”
“Is she as stunning as she looked on TV?” Sonny asked.
Wayne shrugged. “She’s very tall and quite striking. A most unusual woman, would be a better way to describe her.”
“I see...well, I’m going to be running some errands in a bit, so I may miss seeing her. Just my luck. Anyway...thanks for holding my delivery for me. I’ll be waiting for your text.”
“Of course,” Wayne said and waved as Sonny left the office, then got the passkey so he’d have it ready.
Sonny left the office in a panic. He’d had no idea the famous duo was on the case. If she was as psychic as they claimed, she might see guilt all over him, maybe even without needing his presence. He couldn’t let that happen. But he needed to set up an alibi, showing him leaving the property before Charlie and Wyrick ever arrived.
He made a point of waving at staff as he took the back way out of the building to the parking garage, then got in his car and drove out the front gate, making sure the security cameras would pick him up leaving the grounds.
But as soon as he was out of sight of the building, he circled the area, came back to the house through the alley behind it and parked next to the dumpster.
He came in the back gate, making a point to stay behind the old-growth crape myrtle concealing a brick garden shed that was original to the property. He slipped into the shed and went straight to the storage closet. The moment he walked in, an LED light came on.
He paused, listening, before pulling an old box of cleaning supplies aside, revealing the door in the floor and a set of steps leading down. A light came on as he descended, and when it did, he pulled the door shut above him. His heart was racing as he reached the floor below.
Knowing Rachel was behind the big metal door to his right was tempting. But he didn’t have time to deal with her, and so he just kept running, down the long passageway, up another set of stairs with a landing on the first floor, and another set of stairs that went up to the second.
Motion detector lights came on as he exited on the first floor passage, and headed for his apartment, anxious about what was ahead of him. He didn’t have time to prepare as he normally would have, but the consequences of ignoring this could be disastrous.
* * *
Charlie drove them to Detter House in grim-lipped silence. Wyrick knew something was bothering him, and she hated secrets.
“You know you don’t have to sulk. If you wanted my PBGJ sandwich, you could have had it.”
Charlie frowned as he took an exit off the beltway.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Well, we were fine when we sat down to breakfast, and then you weren’t. Once we get to Detter House, we need to be focusing on Rachel, not something else, so what’s wrong?”
Charlie sighed. “It’s not you. I just can’t get that face out of my head.”
“Face? What—you mean Jessup Wallis?”
Charlie nodded.
She rolled her eyes. “He’s just another face to me, and they’re all beginning to look alike.”
“He’s a threat,” he muttered.
“No. I’m a threat to him now. And he’s running, Charlie, I promise.”
“How do you know that?” he asked.
“Because, after you left the office I entered his cell phone into my locator and pinged his current location. Not only is he not in Texas, he’s not in Louisiana, either. He’s halfway through Arkansas and northbound.”
“Really?” Charlie said.
Wyrick rolled her eyes. “Yes, really. And as soon as we get home this evening, I will let the rest of the world see his face, then you won’t be the only one responsible for me. Savvy?”
He nodded. “Sorry.”
“No apology needed. I’m fine. We’re working a case, and that’s our focus. Not me. Deal?”
* * *
Since the Church of The Righteous was beginning to crumble, it affirmed a decision that Jordy Gooch, Jessup Wallis’s drinking buddy, had been wrestling with ever since he’d heard about the quarter of a million dollar bounty.
Granted, Jessup was drunk when he told Jordy that the preacher was sending him on a holy quest to kill a demon, but in Jordy’s mind, that just made him mean and stupid.
Then he’d seen the video and put two and two together, and he’d still stayed mum. But with Raver dead, Jordy wanted that money. He’d always wanted to live where it snowed. He’d seen it once when he was a kid, and never forgot. He could get good and lost with a quarter of a million dollars, and never be judged for where he got it.
That video was still all over social media, with the contact info and everything. So he pulled it up on his phone and wrote it all down. Now all he needed was a picture of Jessup, and he had plenty. He just needed to find one where he wasn’t drunk and laughing, then send it with the name.
* * *
Farrell Kitt was almost home. His panic to see his wife and his kids, and talk to Jeremiah, was uppermost. He was coming up on the church when he saw yellow crime scene tape across the driveway.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” he groaned.
He didn’t know what had happened, but he stomped the accelerator to put as much distance between him and the church as possible. But to get home, he also had to pass where the preacher lived, and when he saw more crime scene tape at the road leading up to Jeremiah’s house, his stomach rolled. It was all he could do not to throw up. Something bad had happened. Something worse than the bounty on his head. He was afraid to go home for fear the cops would be waiting for him, and pulled off the side of the road to call Judy. He needed to hear her voice.
It only rang once before Judy answered.
“Where are you?”
“About ten minutes from home. I just drove by the church and Jeremiah’s house, and there’s crime scene tape everywhere. What the hell happened?”
Judy started crying. “It’s just awful. The FBI came to serve warrants on Jeremiah for money laundering, and found him shot dead in the front yard.”
Farrell gasped. “What? Money laundering? But—”
“That’s not all. Jessup Wallis’s girlfriend, Britta, already put Jessup out of her house. His things were all over her porch. I don’t know if he’s come back to get them, but everyone is pointing fingers at him being one of Raver’s chosen.”
“What are they sayin’ about me?” Farrell asked.
“Nothing that I know of,” Judy said. “Your brother David came over this morning to borrow the tractor. He got himself stuck up in his back pasture. He asked where you were, and I said you’d gone into the city for a doctor’s appointment, and that you’d be home later today.”
“A doctor’s appointment? What’s supposed to be wrong with me?” Farrell asked.
“I told him you’d been feeling dizzy a lot, and I pressured you into getting a checkup. You know how high blood pressure runs in your family. It was all I could think of.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s good. Oh, God, Judy... I’m so sorry I got mixed up in this.”
“Just get your ass home,” she said.
Farrell put the car back in gear and accelerated, but there was no way to outrun the mistake that he’d made.
* * *
It was just before 8 a.m. when Charlie walked into the kitchen. He made himself a cup of coffee, then sat down at the kitchen table to call Detective Floyd, and then his phone rang. It was Hank Raines.
“Good morning, Hank. You’re up early.”
“Yes, just one of those days,” Hank said. “I have an update for you. The ATF went to serve an arrest warrant on Preston Davis, who likely instigated the hit on Raver, hoping to cut the link between them before anyone found out. He resisted arrest and pulled a gun on six armed ATF agents. Needless to say, he’s dead. And it is my understanding that the info they confiscated is leading to the arrests of the people Davis had been doing business with.”
“Good,” Charlie said.
“No problem. Have a good day,” Hank said and hung up.
Charlie reached for the notes Wyrick had given him, and called Detective Floyd. The call rang three times, and then he answered.
“Detective Floyd, Dallas PD.”
“Hey, Floyd, this is Charlie Dodge. Got a minute?”
“Yes, of course. I was just getting in the car to head to the precinct. What’s up?”
“Wyrick was running searches last night and made quite a discovery. Something you may not be aware of.”
“Like what?” Floyd asked.
“Rachel Dean isn’t the first woman to go missing from the Detter House. She’s the fourth. The first one was eleven years ago.”
“No way!” Floyd said. “We would have picked up on this ourselves if—”
“Let me finish,” Charlie said and laid out what Wyrick had told him, giving him the names of the women and the dates they went missing. But it was the inactive social security numbers for all three of the women that made the case for Wyrick’s theory.
“Oh, man. This isn’t good,” Floyd said. “I’ve only been with Missing Persons three years. I was in Homicide before that, so I had no personal info on any of these other cases. I’ll pull them immediately. I need to see why they closed the cases and start verifying the inactive numbers.”
“We’re going back to Detter House soon. Wyrick strongly believes there has to be some kind of hidden passage built into the old structure, and I learned a long time ago not to doubt her instincts.”
“Is she really psychic?” Floyd asked. “Don’t get me wrong...I’m not discounting her. But I’ve also never known anyone like her.”
“That’s because there is no one else like her,” Charlie said. “If we find out anything new, I’ll call.”
He disconnected, then laid the phone aside and was getting up to make himself some breakfast when Wyrick entered the kitchen.
“Going in low-key today, I see,” he said. “Want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? I’m gonna make myself one.”
She ignored his dig about the silver cat suit and red knee-high boots she was wearing.
“Do we have grape jelly?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Then, yes, I will have a PBGJ, but just one, thank you.”
He grinned as she went to make coffee.
PBGJ. Peanut butter and grape jelly. Perfectly Wyrick being perfectly specific.
“I called Detective Floyd. He was understandably shocked and is going to pull the old case files today. I told him we were going back to Detter House,” Charlie said.
She nodded as he spoke, but she was watching him making sandwiches, too.
“Uh... Could I have the grape jelly on one side, and the peanut butter on the other?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said and never missed a beat.
“Um, you’re using creamy peanut butter,” she said.
He paused. “Yes.”
“If we have crunchy, I would prefer that,” she added.
Charlie took a deep breath. “I’ll check.”
She nodded, then retrieved her cup of coffee from the Keurig and sat down at the table to watch the final construction, knowing full well she was aggravating Charlie Dodge’s last nerve.
Finally, the sandwiches were finished, and Charlie plated them up and carried them to the table.
“You didn’t cut mine,” Wyrick said.
Charlie turned, grabbed a paring knife from the knife block and stabbed it into the center of her sandwich.
“Knock yourself out,” he said.
Wyrick hid a grin, then proceeded to cut her sandwich in four squares.
“Hank Raines called this morning. The ATF was serving an arrest warrant on Preston Davis yesterday when he pulled a gun on them. He’s dead.”
“Cowards always choose the easy way out,” she said and stuffed one whole square into her mouth.
Charlie smirked. “Such a dainty little thing you are,” he said.
Wyrick chewed and swallowed, then licked a smear of peanut butter from her thumb. She was reaching for another piece when her phone rang. But it was the “Hallelujah” chorus ringtone that startled Charlie and sent Wyrick bolting from her chair.
“What?” he yelled.
“Someone just named one of the hit men. I have to check my email,” she said and ran.
She was gone in a flash of silver, the click of her heels marking her speed as she bolted down the hall. But Charlie wanted to see the man’s face, because her enemies were his enemies.
Wyrick had the email open, sitting motionless at the monitor, staring at a face.
“Is that one of them?” Charlie asked.
“Maybe...probably,” she said.
“What’s his name?”
“Jessup Wallis,” she said, then switched screens and pulled up a file listing the members of the Church of The Righteous. “His name is on the list of members.”
“How can you prove he’s one of the three who were sent?” Charlie asked.
“I hacked into Jeremiah Raver’s phone records when I was making the case for money laundering. Most of the calls on his phone were from parishioners, or Preston Davis. But after Barrett Taylor tried to kill me, I checked Raver’s phone records again. There were three new numbers he’d never called before, but they were local to Raver’s area—and made within the past week. One of them belonged to Barrett Taylor, and I already knew he was hit man number one. Then Raver had a call from the Dallas County Jail right after Barrett Taylor was arrested. I assumed it was a plea for Raver to get him a lawyer. So that verified one of those three numbers did belong to a hit man. I ran a search on the other two numbers. One belonged to a man named Jessup Wallis.” She pointed to the screen. “And that is Jessup Wallis. The man who turned him in is a man named Jordy Gooch. Gooch does not belong to the church, but is a local in Paulette. I’ll have to do some research to make sure he’s no relation, but I think I just got number two.”
“Location-wise, do you know where Wallis is?” Charlie asked.
“Now that I know which number is his, I enter it into my locator.”
“If he’s in Dallas, then that means you’re still in danger,” Charlie said.
“He’s not in Dallas. Neither of them are,” Wyrick said.
“How can you be so sure?” Charlie asked.
“If they’ve been notified about the video, they’ll both be worried about who knew what they were doing, and who might turn them in. They’ll be looking for a place to hide, and to deny, deny, deny the accusations.”
“Are you going to stay here in the office for a while?” he asked.
“No. Rachel Dean takes precedence over this. I’m just sending an email to Jordy Gooch, telling him verification is in progress. I’ll be back in the kitchen in a sec. Don’t eat my PBGJ.”
“As if,” Charlie said. He looked long and hard at the photo again and then left.
Wyrick paused, pulled up one of her apps, entered Jessup Wallis’s cell number, then waited for a cell tower to pick up on it. It took a few minutes, but when it did she relaxed and logged out.
Once she got back to the kitchen to finish breakfast, they talked about the pending search, but neither mentioned Rachel’s name. The days since she’d gone missing were passing, and neither they nor the police had a clue as to what had happened to her. Charlie had promised Millie he’d find Rachel, but he didn’t want to find her dead.
As Wyrick carried their cups and plates to the sink, Charlie reached for his phone.
“I’m giving the manager a heads-up that we’re coming back this morning, so he’ll be there to give us a key.”
“Good idea,” Wyrick said and loaded the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. “I’m going to get my laptop. I’ll be right back.”
She hurried away as Charlie made the call, and then waited for it to be answered.
Ten
Wayne was in the office calling a plumber when the door opened. One of the residents walked in, and Wayne held up a hand then pointed to a chair while he finished his call. As soon as he hung up, he turned and smiled.
“Sorry about that, Sonny. What’s up?”
“I have an Amazon delivery that’s supposed to arrive today. If you’ll text me when it arrives, I’ll come pick it up.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for it,” Wayne said and then looked a little closer at him. “You don’t look so good. Have you been sick?”
“No...nothing like that. But I fell the other day and haven’t been sleeping well. I’m getting better, but you know when your back goes out, it hurts like hell no matter how you stand or sit, right?”
Wayne frowned. “I’m so—” Then his cell phone rang. When he saw who was calling, he grabbed it. “Hang on a second. I need to answer this.”
Sonny nodded, then picked up a magazine as Wayne answered.
“Detter House. Wayne Dyer speaking.”
“Wayne, it’s Charlie Dodge.”
“Yes, hello, Charlie. What can I do for you?” he said.
“Wyrick and I need access to the apartment again. Can we pick up the key at your office?”
“Sure. Are you coming this morning?” Wayne asked.
“Yes. We’ll be there within the hour.”
“See you then,” Wayne said and hung up, then glanced at Sonny. “Sorry. That was Charlie Dodge again. He and his assistant are working for Rachel Dean’s family, you know...trying to help the police find her.”
Sonny frowned. “It’s so awful. Do they have any leads?”
“I have no idea,” Wayne said.
Sonny leaned forward, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair. “His assistant is that Wyrick woman, right?”
Wayne nodded. “Yes. They were here yesterday morning, but not for long. I guess they want to take a closer look or something...who knows?”
“Is she as stunning as she looked on TV?” Sonny asked.
Wayne shrugged. “She’s very tall and quite striking. A most unusual woman, would be a better way to describe her.”
“I see...well, I’m going to be running some errands in a bit, so I may miss seeing her. Just my luck. Anyway...thanks for holding my delivery for me. I’ll be waiting for your text.”
“Of course,” Wayne said and waved as Sonny left the office, then got the passkey so he’d have it ready.
Sonny left the office in a panic. He’d had no idea the famous duo was on the case. If she was as psychic as they claimed, she might see guilt all over him, maybe even without needing his presence. He couldn’t let that happen. But he needed to set up an alibi, showing him leaving the property before Charlie and Wyrick ever arrived.
He made a point of waving at staff as he took the back way out of the building to the parking garage, then got in his car and drove out the front gate, making sure the security cameras would pick him up leaving the grounds.
But as soon as he was out of sight of the building, he circled the area, came back to the house through the alley behind it and parked next to the dumpster.
He came in the back gate, making a point to stay behind the old-growth crape myrtle concealing a brick garden shed that was original to the property. He slipped into the shed and went straight to the storage closet. The moment he walked in, an LED light came on.
He paused, listening, before pulling an old box of cleaning supplies aside, revealing the door in the floor and a set of steps leading down. A light came on as he descended, and when it did, he pulled the door shut above him. His heart was racing as he reached the floor below.
Knowing Rachel was behind the big metal door to his right was tempting. But he didn’t have time to deal with her, and so he just kept running, down the long passageway, up another set of stairs with a landing on the first floor, and another set of stairs that went up to the second.
Motion detector lights came on as he exited on the first floor passage, and headed for his apartment, anxious about what was ahead of him. He didn’t have time to prepare as he normally would have, but the consequences of ignoring this could be disastrous.
* * *
Charlie drove them to Detter House in grim-lipped silence. Wyrick knew something was bothering him, and she hated secrets.
“You know you don’t have to sulk. If you wanted my PBGJ sandwich, you could have had it.”
Charlie frowned as he took an exit off the beltway.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Well, we were fine when we sat down to breakfast, and then you weren’t. Once we get to Detter House, we need to be focusing on Rachel, not something else, so what’s wrong?”
Charlie sighed. “It’s not you. I just can’t get that face out of my head.”
“Face? What—you mean Jessup Wallis?”
Charlie nodded.
She rolled her eyes. “He’s just another face to me, and they’re all beginning to look alike.”
“He’s a threat,” he muttered.
“No. I’m a threat to him now. And he’s running, Charlie, I promise.”
“How do you know that?” he asked.
“Because, after you left the office I entered his cell phone into my locator and pinged his current location. Not only is he not in Texas, he’s not in Louisiana, either. He’s halfway through Arkansas and northbound.”
“Really?” Charlie said.
Wyrick rolled her eyes. “Yes, really. And as soon as we get home this evening, I will let the rest of the world see his face, then you won’t be the only one responsible for me. Savvy?”
He nodded. “Sorry.”
“No apology needed. I’m fine. We’re working a case, and that’s our focus. Not me. Deal?”
