A Shred of Evidence (12 page)

Will disconnected the call and watched as Backus continued to pound Ross with questions.

“You’ve been under a great deal of stress,” Backus said, “with your son’s death, and then that lady reporter in Biloxi writing a, shall we say,
questioning
article. Then someone spray-painting ‘Child Molester’ on your garage door.”

“Yeah, it’s been a nightmare,” Ross said.

“With all that on your shoulders, it wouldn’t take much for a kid in the terrible twos to push you to the brink. Maybe you
spanked her harder than you meant to and then realized she wasn’t breathing. Maybe you panicked and got rid of the body. It’d be understandable.”

“
Understandable?
Are you nuts?” Ross threw up his hands. “I’d never hurt Sarah Beth!”

“Then again,” Backus said, “If you were guilty of molesting your daughter, you’d have to get rid of the evidence.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with Sarah Beth’s disappearance! Please, just … issue an Amber Alert.” Ross buried his face in his hands.

“Relax,” Backus said. “We already have. But all we have to go on is your daughter’s description. At least a redhead will be easier to spot than most.”

Ross looked up at Backus. “Do you have children?”

“Three.”

“Then surely you can understand my desperation. I’ll cooperate any way I can, just please find my little girl.”

Backus got up and sat in the chair next to Ross, his demeanor more casual, his voice softer. “Believe me, I understand how you feel about Sarah Beth. I have two girls of my own. I’m trying to be your friend, but I need you to shoot straight with me. If you think of anything else that might help us find Sarah Beth, I want you to call
me
—nobody else. We have to trust each other. I have to know I can count on you.”

Ross nodded.

Chief Seevers walked back in his office and poured another cup of coffee, then sat at his desk and stifled a yawn. He glanced at the clock. 4:55.

If they didn’t find some solid evidence either pointing a finger at Hamilton or absolving him, Will was going to have his hands full with community outrage.

Investigator Backus appeared in the doorway. “Whaddya think?”

“I think I’m glad I don’t have to do the dirty work anymore. You believe him?”

“I don’t know. The emotion seems real. Then again, he’s had a lot of practice. Could be a darned good actor. So how’d the questioning go with the missus?”

“Her statement backs up his story. I don’t think she knows anything. Broke down several times during questioning.”

Backus smirked. “Yeah, well, don’t forget Susan Smith and her big crocodile tears staring into the cameras pleading for her sons’ lives. By the way, how’d you get the Amber Alert activated with so little information?”

“I had to rattle a few chains,” Will said. “But we can’t afford not to handle this like it’s legit. I know the likelihood of the perp being someone close to the family. But I can’t imagine Ross is dumb enough to do away with his daughter when the whole town’s breathing down his neck.”

Backus shrugged. “Maybe the pressure got to him. Or he just thrives on danger.”

“Did he ask to speak to an attorney?”

“Says he doesn’t need one. I’d just as soon keep it that way as long as possible.”

“Just make sure you’re not violating his rights. I don’t want this thing blowing up in our faces.”

Gordy Jameson made sure the lunch traffic was under control, then went out on the back deck of Gordy’s Crab Shack and flopped in the chair next to Adam Spalding. “Where’d we leave off?”

“The cops were banging on my door before the sun was up,” Eddie Drummond said. “Talk about humiliating. My wife nearly freaked out.”

“Well, after all, you were bumpin’ your gums about this guy,” Captain Jack said. “Cops gotta check every avenue.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Well, they’re wasting time and money talking to me. I don’t have a clue what happened to that little girl. Ross Hamilton’s the one they oughta be asking.”

“You think
he
knows something?” Gordy said.

Eddie shrugged. “Hey, there’s a reason someone wrote ‘Child Molester’ on his garage door!”

“Will you keep your voice down?” Adam said. “We don’t need the whole world in on this.”

Eddie leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Why do you think that reporter was trying to get the Biloxi police to wake up? Look at the guy’s history. He’s capable of anything.”

“I don’t see how he could’ve snowed the police,” Adam said. “Cops today have pretty sophisticated ways of proving a guy’s guilt.”

Eddie smirked. “Maybe his luck just ran out.”

“Guess that’d solve a big problem for you,” Captain said. “If Hamilton got arrested, you’d go back to bein’ number one down at Hank’s.”

“Yeah, I suppose I would,” Eddie said. “But we’d all be better off without vermin like him on the street.”

Ellen Jones picked up the phone and dialed the number she had gotten from Directory Service and scribbled on a notepad.

“Good afternoon,
Biloxi Telegraph
. How may I direct your call?”

“I’m trying to reach Valerie Mink Hodges.”

“Who should I say is calling?”

“Ellen Jones.”

“I’ll see if she’s in. If not, would you like to leave a message on her voice mail?”

“Yes, thank you.” Ellen didn’t know if the butterflies she felt were more a result of her feeling like a cub reporter or her
intense concern about Sarah Beth Hamilton’s disappearance. Ellen heard the phone ring and then a click.

Hello, you’ve reached the voice mail of Valerie Mink Hodges. Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you. Beep …

“Valerie, this is Ellen Jones. I’m a former newspaper editor who read your February 15 article expressing your concerns about Ross Hamilton. I’m concerned, too. Ross and Julie Hamilton are living here in Seaport, Florida, and their two-year-old daughter is missing. Would you please call me at—”

“Ms. Jones, I’m here. This is Valerie.”

“I’m so glad I caught you. Please, call me Ellen.”

“Okay, Ellen. How long has the Hamiltons’ daughter been missing?”

“According to our local TV station, Mrs. Hamilton discovered Sarah Beth missing at three this morning. They’ve issued an Amber Alert. The details are sketchy, but I understand the police are questioning the parents. Let me back up a minute and fill you in on what’s been happening here and how I came to know about it.”

Ellen told Valerie everything that had happened from the time she ran into Julie and Sarah Beth in the grocery store parking lot until someone spray-painted the Hamilton’s garage door. “Even though Sarah Beth seems like a bright, affectionate, adorable little girl, I’ve felt all along that something is wrong in that family.”

“I’m with you,” Valerie said. “But frankly, I never would’ve figured the guy for a child molester. I just thought he was one of those people who keeps having accidents that aren’t really accidents, but nobody can prove otherwise. But hey, this’ll make a great follow up article.”

“I trust you’ll at least wait and see what happens before you add your own spin.”

“Why? Juicy information sells newspapers. That’s the name of the game.”

“But without facts, it’s no better than tabloid gossip.”

“Come on, Ellen, people will eat this up. There’s enough fact here to counter a few raised eyebrows. Let the readers sort it out.”

“That’s what they expect
you
to do.”

“I can’t help what their expectations might be. My job is to report what I know.”

“But what do you really
know:
That the Hamiltons’ daughter is missing forty-eight hours after someone wrote ‘Child Molester’ on their garage door? That sounds a little suspect, even with his history.”

There was a long moment of dead air.

“Okay, I’m confused,” Valerie said. “Then why did you call me?”

“Because the unanswered questions bother me and I wanted to talk to someone else who feels the same way. I was hoping you’d remember something in your investigation of Ross’s background that might point to his being a pedophile. Obviously, you didn’t.”

“But you gave me enough now to create overwhelming suspicion that he is.”

Ellen sat back in her chair and put down her pencil. “It was never my intention to
create
overwhelming suspicion. I just wanted to determine if there were any grounds for it. I really wish you’d hold off until—”

“Until what … they find a body? Sorry, timing is everything.”

“I was going to say until the police make some sort of statement. It’s possible that Sarah Beth
was
abducted. We can’t discount that possibility.” Ellen paused and then decided to ask. “How did you obtain the information you put in your article about Ross Hamilton?”

“After Nathaniel Hamilton died, I received an anonymous phone call from a man who lived in the neighborhood where Ross grew up. He gave me dates and told me to check old newspaper
articles in the
Sun-Herald
. Everything I reported is a matter of public record.”

“Did you talk to the Biloxi police?” Ellen said.

“I tried, but they couldn’t tell me anything since he was never charged.”

“Did you ever ask Ross Hamilton for his side of the story?”

“He never returned my call. Look,” Valerie said, “it’s not easy competing with the
Sun-Herald
. The
Telegraph
can’t afford to pass up a chance to draw readers. This story had sizzle to start with. But now that the Hamilton girl is missing, it’s juicy enough to buy me a little job security.”

Ellen exhaled loudly. “I’d appreciate it if you’d consider everything I told you as off the record.”

Ellen logged off the Internet and turned off her laptop. She had been browsing the website of the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children for over an hour. She sat for a few minutes, staring at nothing, suddenly aware of her head throbbing.

She went downstairs, took two Advil, and lay on the couch, hugging a pillow. She couldn’t stop thinking about Sarah Beth. She blinked away the image that popped into her mind and replaced it with a pair of bright blue eyes and a cherub face framed with carrot-colored curls. How could anyone harm such a sweet little girl?
Lord, if she’s still alive, please protect her. Show the police how to find her
.

As
disgusted as she was with Valerie Mink Hodges’s questionable ethics, Ellen was no closer to resolving her own feeling that Ross Hamilton was somehow involved in his daughter’s disappearance.

She heard the cuckoo clock strike four. Guy would be home from Tallahassee in time for dinner. She wondered if the news about Sarah Beth’s disappearance had raised his level of suspicion about Ross Hamilton’s guilt.

Will Seevers took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. The Hamilton girl had been missing for sixteen hours. If she had fallen into the hands of a sexual predator, the odds of her still being alive were slim. There had been only two responses to the Amber Alert, and both proved to be false alarms.

Everything about this case bothered him. Ross’s history made it easy enough to believe he might have repeated the pattern and could be responsible for another mysterious disappearance. But right after being accused of child molestation? Would he be that brazen—or that stupid?

Plus, the Hamiltons had been cooperative, even pleaded with the police to search their home for clues. Crime scene investigators had found a few white cotton fibers stuck in the window frame and determined they were from a Fruit-of-the-Loom T-shirt that could’ve been purchased at almost any department store in the country. The fact investigators didn’t find that brand in the Hamiltons’ home didn’t prove anything.

No evidence was found inside the house. And nothing on the ground outside the child’s window proved to be helpful, especially since Mrs. Hamilton had trampled over whatever impressions or footprints might’ve been out there.

The bottom portion of the window frame yielded numerous fingerprints, including Ross Hamilton’s—and probably those of previous tenants.

But investigators also found two sets of prints that could have been left only by someone entering from outside. Yet those prints weren’t found on the satin edging of the little girl’s blanket and weren’t on file at NCIC.

Will heard a knock on the door and looked up at the face of Investigator Backus.

“You looking for me?” Backus said.

“Yeah, come in. Take a load off.”

Backus flopped into a chair. “Man, I’m fried!”

“Yeah, me, too. I keep going over this thing in my mind, but it just doesn’t jibe. I’ve asked the feds to help.”

“Come on, you don’t really think the girl was abducted?”

Will sighed. “I don’t know, but we’re not getting anywhere with the Hamiltons.”

“They could’ve hidden her, afraid DCF would take her from the home.”

“Yeah, I thought of that. But they’re so broken up over it … I don’t think they could
both
fake their emotions that well.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time guilty parents put on a good performance,” Al said.

“Yeah, I know that, too. But somebody entered that little girl’s room from outside, and I’m going to do everything I can to find out who.”