“Enough,” the sergeant yelled. “Can we get back to the matter at hand and leave the school yard antics outside?”
Spence and Winters glared at each other.
Bringing the conversation back to business, Tony said, “I didn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary at the picnic yesterday, Sarge. I’d bet no one even knows she’s missing. When was she last seen?”
“Friday. A couple of the nurses report she left right after the three o’clock shift change. She never arrived home. The babysitter called it in late Friday night.”
“Has anyone mentioned anything that might help us out?” Winters asked. “Trouble at home? Trouble on the job? Anybody hanging around or bothering her?”
“As you know, we’ve just begun the investigation,” Sarge said. “So far we know her husband’s in Iraq. She talks about her family a lot, especially her kids. Carried umpteen photos in her purse and took the time to show them every chance she had. Other than her husband being away, everything seemed good on the home front. From what I’ve heard, she’s well-liked by her peers. As far as a stalker, no one noticed anyone suspicious hanging around.”
Sergeant Greene leaned back in his chair. A scowl twisted his features. “The particulars of her disappearance match those of the other two women we’ve lost.”
Winters said, “How do you figure, Sarge? Both our prior victims were single. This one’s married.”
“And both our other ladies are dead,” Spence said.
“That’s why we’ve got to move on this pronto, gentlemen,” Sarge replied. “All three women seem to have disappeared into thin air. No witnesses. No signs of struggle. Two of the women left their jobs and never arrived home. The third woman left her home for an appointment and never arrived. That’s enough to tie them together for me.”
The sergeant tossed his chewed yellow pencil on the table. “It’s worth a hard look. If there’s a connection between Cynthia Mayors and the other two victims, I want to know it before she becomes victim number three. This isn’t New York or Chicago. If a woman’s body shows up here, we’re probably looking at a domestic dispute, a drug overdose or a bar pickup gone bad. Two women disappear in this community and then turn up dead? That raises the hair on the back of my neck. A third woman vanishes? I gotta tell you I’m wondering if Ted Bundy’s younger brother just moved to town.”
“We hear you, Sarge. We’ll get on it right away,” said Winters.
Tony picked up the folder and carried it back to his desk. Yesterday’s picnic had been a waste of his time. He should have been out with the other men canvassing the neighborhood, conducting interviews.
The image of a freckle-faced boy and a mom with auburn hair popped into his mind. He had to admit it hadn’t been a total waste of time. He might have the chance to do something special for a handicapped kid. That made him feel good.
He loved kids but decided never to have a family of his own. Choosing to be a cop was a twenty-four-hour, seven-day-a-week, dangerous job. He didn’t want to subject a child to the possibility of growing up without a father. Been there, knew that pain. So he fed the occasional paternal urge with his sister’s kids or helped out with the church youth group.
Besides, what kind of father would he be? He’d never had a role model. Just like that kid he’d met today. No uncles. Not even an older brother. His mom didn’t bring dates home to meet him ’til his late teens. It had been just him, his mom and his sister. What if he didn’t measure up? He saw the results of bad parenting every day on his job. Nope. No kids for him.
Tony dragged his hand over his face. He needed to buckle down and work. But on what? They didn’t have one lead that hadn’t been investigated. As much as it sickened him, he had to acknowledge they’d hit a brick wall and couldn’t do another thing but retrace their steps until the killer made another move.
He flipped open the folder and studied the picture. This woman was somebody’s wife, somebody’s mother, somebody’s friend. Experience told him she was probably already dead. Sarge was right. Three was a very unsettling number.
TWO
Erin tugged the business card out of her pocket.
“I see you still haven’t thrown that away.” Tess plopped her ample girth onto a nearby kitchen chair. “Must be you are at least considering the lad’s offer.” The older woman squinted. “What are you doing in here, anyway? Cleaning the kitchen is my job.”
“I thought I’d give you a hand.”
“You know what they say about two cooks in a kitchen…”
Erin smiled. Tess was notorious for spouting the first line of famous sayings and never finishing them. One of these days, she was going to put her on the spot and see if she even knew the other halves of those sayings.
“So?” Her aunt peered across eyeglasses riding low on her nose and waited.
“I have no intention of taking his offer seriously.”
“Is that so?” Tess pretended to brush nonexisting crumbs off the table into her upturned palm. “Even though you went through the trouble to find out he is, indeed, an honorable law enforcement officer?”
Erin ignored her.
“Even though Jack has his heart set on riding the boys’ bus? Even though the gentleman was nice enough to offer to ride with him? You’re just not going to do it. Makes sense to me. Sure it does.”
Erin sighed. “You don’t understand. I can’t ask a total stranger to play Jack’s dad. It’s humiliating.”
“First of all, lass, he’s not a stranger. He’s a police officer from our very own community who has a kind heart for a handicapped boy. And you’re not asking him to play Jack’s dad. Just to accompany him on the bus. Besides, he volunteered.”
“We’ve been over this a hundred times. No. Now that’s the end of it.”
“Harrumph. That’s stubbornness and pride speaking.”
“Well, it must be an inherited trait.” She shot Tess her best “don’t go there” glare.
The older woman pushed back her chair and stood. “Maybe you ought to pray on it. I know Jack’s been praying every night. Did you ever stop to think that maybe the good Lord put this police officer in your path as an answer to Jack’s prayers?”
Silence stretched between them.
“I’m going to check on the boy. It’s obvious I’m talking to a brick wall in here.”
Erin shook her head. What was she going to do with Tess? The sixty-five-year-old had a bad habit of pushing too hard in things that were just none of her business and Erin hadn’t found a loving way to discourage the meddling.
Walking over to the trash, she tossed the card in the bin. There. That’s where you belong. You’ve caused enough trouble in this house. She stared for several minutes at the small white rectangle lying atop discarded lettuce. Instead of a business card, she saw dark eyes framed by crinkled smile lines. She felt the soft caress of his breath against her skin. She smelled the musky, masculine scent of him.
Shaking her head to rid herself of those nonproductive thoughts another image slipped into her consciousness, the pleading eyes of her son. Before she could change her mind, she snatched the card back up, swiped it on the leg of her jeans to wipe off any lettuce residue and shoved it back into her pocket.
Erin had finished sweeping the floor when Tess reentered the room. “Everything, okay?”
Tess chuckled.