A Shred of Evidence (15 page)

“I know. So why not let yourself feel that way about someone else? Moving on doesn’t erase the past.”

Gordy fiddled with the loose knob on a desk drawer. “So who’s the lady?”

“Margaret’ll kill me if I tell you.”

“I’m not showin’ up without some kinda hint.”

“Okay the woman’s sweet, attractive, talkative, easy to be with. I think she even likes to fish.”

“So why isn’t she taken?”

“After her husband was killed in a boating accident four years ago, she had her hands full getting two kids through college. I really think you’ll like her.”

“What am I gonna wear? I don’t have dress up clothes anymore.”

“Relax. It’s just a casual dinner, that’s all. If you don’t find her attractive, you can walk away and never see her again.”

“What if the Hamilton case isn’t solved by Sunday and you can’t break free for dinner? What am I gonna talk about if there’s no other guy around?”

“I’ll be there, Gordy Chill out. This is going to be enjoyable.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Margaret’s serving barbequed brisket, au gratin potatoes, and her special green beans. And guess what’s she’s having for dessert? Your favorite.”

“Strawberry shortcake! You’re makin’ this awful temptin’. I’m a little burned out on seafood and don’t think I could eat another piece of key lime pie if my life depended on it.”

“Great. This’ll be a nice change of pace. So you’ll be there …? Gordy …?”

“Let me think about it. I haven’t done anything like this in over thirty years.”

“Fair enough. Thanks for the lead on Charlie Pan. And don’t wait too long to give Margaret your answer or I won’t be able to live with her.”

“All right,” Gordy said. “I gotta get to work.”

“Catch you later.”

Gordy hung up the phone, his eyes fixed on the photograph of Jenny on his desk—the one of her fighting a huge black marlin off the coast of Panama. Her face was a vision of pure joy and pure agony—eyes closed, head tilted back, mouth stretched into a broad, toothy smile as she defiantly gripped the rod, which was bent like a horseshoe by more than a quarter of a ton of sheer strength. No other woman he knew had brought a six hundred pounder to the boat—man either, for that matter. Jenny had insisted the black beauty be released immediately. She didn’t want its survival threatened just so she could get brag pictures. Gordy respected her for it and wondered if he would have been as unselfish had it been
his
trophy.

For a split second the sound of Jenny’s laughter echoed in his head, and emotion caught in his throat and clouded his eyes. He pressed his lips to his index finger and gently touched the glass over Jenny’s face, wondering if he would ever be ready to move on.

The wonderful smell of rolls baking wafted into Gordy’s office and made him hungry. He thought about going out to the kitchen, but instead grabbed the thick roll around his middle and changed his mind.

He glanced at his watch and remembered the stack of orders he had to go through before the guys arrived for lunch.

O
n Thursday afternoon, Police Chief Will Seevers sat at his desk, reviewing the file on the Hamilton case and listening to the tapes of Julie and Ross’s separate interrogations. He heard someone cough and looked up at Special Agent Bryce Moore standing in the doorway. “How long’ve you been there?”

“Long enough to know something’s eating you,” Bryce said.

Will sat back in his chair and exhaled. “The desperation in the parents’ voices … it sounds so real.”

“You think sick people can’t
sound
convincing?”

“Yeah, but if we didn’t know Ross Hamilton’s background, we wouldn’t suspect him of this. And no one who really knows him thinks he’s capable—not even his in-laws who don’t seem all that fond of him.”

“You waffling, Chief?”

“Yeah, I suppose I am.”

Bryce raised his eyebrows. “There is another possibility I’ve been batting around.”

“Sit down and let’s hear it. You want coffee?”

“Sure, black.”

Will poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Bryce, then leaned against the front of his desk. “I’m listening.”

“I’m nowhere near convinced Ross Hamilton’s innocent,” Bryce said. “But for the sake of argument, let’s eliminate him as a suspect. Who else would be motivated to take Sarah Beth?”

“You mean other than a sexual predator? I suppose someone
who was worried Ross might be abusing her. But you already eliminated the grandparents and everyone close to the family.”

Bryce nodded. “Ever heard of a group called RISK—Rapid Intervention to Safeguard Kids?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Well, the bureau’s been on to this group for a long time. It’s an underground movement that snatches kids from homes they think are abusive.”

“Is it a cult?” Will said.

“I wouldn’t go that far. But these people are fanatics who don’t trust the system. They’re well-connected and waste no time giving the children new identities and placing them in new families.”

“How’d you find out about them?”

Bryce took a sip of coffee. “Two summers ago in Miami, some dope dealer fingered the group in exchange for a lesser charge. They were headquartered at his sister’s house at the time. We busted them, but they claimed to have safe houses all over the state of Florida and beyond. We were able to locate and break up two of them and found five missing kids—all unharmed and well cared for. But by the time we located the other safe houses, they’d already moved.”

“What makes you think RISK is responsible for Sarah Beth’s disappearance?” Will said.

“I’m not sure they are. But the spray-painting incident made the news and would’ve been enough to send these people into high gear, especially with Ross Hamilton’s history. We can’t discount the possibility We got a tip on a possible RISK safe house in Tallahassee, and agents are en route as we speak.”

“Man, I’ve gotta get out of Seaport more often,” Will said. “I’ve never heard of these guys.”

“Don’t feel bad. The bureau’s tried to keep it quiet, hoping we could get a few of our people inside the group.”

“Does this mean you don’t think Hamilton’s guilty of foul play?”

Bryce chugged the last of his coffee and stood. “I didn’t say that. I’m just not ready to bet the farm on it.”

“You say this RISK has cells all over the state?”

“We think so.”

Will stroked his chin. “Then it’s possible some of the members could be living in this area.”

“That would certainly account for the ability to pull off a rescue within forty-eight hours.”

Ellen Jones sat on the veranda, wishing Guy had the day off and lamenting that her fingers were still too sore to type. She was losing momentum on her novel. The doorbell rang, and she went inside and looked through the peephole.

Oh,
no, Chief Seevers!
She was tempted to pretend she wasn’t home but was afraid he’d ring the bell again and disturb Guy. She unlocked the door and opened it, determined not to let her embarrassment over last night show.

The chief tipped the brim of his hat. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Jones. I’m sorry to stop by unannounced but was wondering if I could ask you a few questions pertinent to the Hamilton case?”

“Have you found Sarah Beth?”

“No ma’am. Not yet.”

Ellen ushered the police chief into the living room and offered him a seat on the couch, then sat on the loveseat opposite him.

“I’ll be glad to help anyway I can,” Ellen said. “I’m heartbroken over Sarah Beth’s disappearance.”

“And I suppose you suspect Ross Hamilton?”

“I’d sure have him under a microscope if I were working this case.”

“Well, that’s exactly where we’ve got him. So far, we haven’t found any evidence. We’re looking at other possibilities.”

Ellen rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what it is about this
man. How many times does he have to strike before he’s stopped?”

“The law says he’s innocent until we can prove he isn’t.”

“Try telling that to his poor daughter!” Ellen paused and took a slow, deep breath. “I’m sorry, but it’s impossible for me to stay objective about this after having been around Sarah Beth. Just the thought that he might have been abusing that sweet little girl …”

“I understand how you feel. I struggle with it, too. Trust me, we’re doing everything we can. You might be interested to know that the man who spray-painted the Hamiltons’ garage door turned out to be a buddy of Eddie Drummond.”

“Really?” Ellen said. “I don’t remember hearing that on the news.”

“You will. He confessed, and I just finished talking to the media. And after questioning him, we have no reason to suspect him of abducting the girl. He had one beer too many while listening to Drummond mouth off about Hamilton and decided to send a message. He’ll get slapped with a big fine and community service.”

Ellen raised her eyes and looked into the chief’s. “And Ross Hamilton will go Scott free—just like all the other times.”

“This investigation is far from over, ma’am.”

“It’s beyond me why you can’t find
something
to charge him with! He’s obviously trying to keep the Department of Children and Families and everyone else from proving he was abusing her. Look at the man’s history. Is it so hard to believe that he would kill her to hide the evidence?”

“You seem awfully passionate about this.”

“What I am, Chief Seevers, is
appalled
that DCF didn’t remove her from that house before something like this happened! Though I don’t know why I should be surprised. How many children have to be abused and even killed before we fix the system?”

“To tell you the truth, I’m more inclined to think someone else took Sarah Beth to protect her from her father.”

Ellen paused and tried to process the implication. “I’d honestly never considered that possibility.”

“You sure about that?” The chief’s eyes locked on to hers.

“Are you implying I had something to do with it?” Ellen felt her face turn hot. “It never occurred to me to take matters into my own hands. But if someone else did, you ought to thank him! Someone needed to protect that child!”

“Maybe they did. Ever heard of a group called RISK—Rapid Intervention to Safeguard Kids?”

Ellen looked into the chief’s probing eyes, trying to recall if she had ever heard of them. “No. Are you saying they took—”

“What’s going on in here?” Guy Jones said. “I can hear you down the hall.”

Ellen dabbed the moisture from her upper lip and lowered her voice. “Chief Seevers came by to ask me a few questions about the Hamilton case.”

“Your wife seems quite passionate about Sarah Beth’s situation.”

“Ellen’s passionate about a lot of issues,” Guy said. “Is there a reason you’re grilling her?”

The chief smiled politely. “Sorry if you perceive my questions as grilling. I’m just exploring the possibility that someone may have taken Sarah Beth to protect her.”

“What does that have to do with my wife?”

“Apparently nothing,” the chief said. “But I felt compelled to pose the question. After all, she’s the one who first came to me about Ross Hamilton. And I know how protective she feels toward his daughter. We can’t leave any stone unturned.”

“Ask her whatever you want; she has nothing to hide.” Guy put his hands on her shoulders. “But as Ellen’s attorney I don’t want her answering any more questions unless I’m present.”