Gone (21 page)

He splayed his hand across his heart, but with his smile still in place, moved to sit across from her. He draped an arm across the back of the maroon bench seat.

A radio sat on a dusty shelf above the bar. At the moment, Kenny Rogers was begging Ruby not to take her love to town. With his other hand, Dannon tapped the tabletop in time to the drum beat. Clare got right to the point.

“Mr. Dannon, you’re right that Beth Ryder is my sister and I’m trying to locate her. I’ve been told that she left Farley ten days ago and I’m asking her friends and relatives if she may have mentioned her destination.”

“Your Yankee accent is driving me crazy,” Dannon whispered, and winked at her. “How long you been in the FBI, darlin’? Nothing makes me hotter than a woman doing a man’s job, I’ve got to say.” He paused and his smile spread a little wider. “So tell me, just where do you keep your gun?”

Clare went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “When did you last see Beth, Mr. Dannon?”

“Rich, remember?”

He closed his eyes briefly and moved his head slowly from side to side. “I can’t recall exactly. Beth worked at the inn, so we bumped into each other from time to time when I happened to be there too.”

“Do you also work there?”

Dannon laughed loud. “Hell, no.”

“Where are you employed, Mr. Dannon?”

Dannon’s blonde brows drew together, causing the tanned, previously unlined skin of his forehead to wrinkle. The smile left his face. “I’m self-employed.”

“What is the nature of your employment?”

Dannon’s posture tensed. “I have several business enterprises.” He lifted his sleeve, exposing a replica designer watch.

The man was uncomfortable with this line of questioning. Clare believed she’d lose him if she pushed, and decided the matter of Dannon’s employment could wait for now.

“Did Beth mention plans to leave Farley?” Clare asked.

“Never said a thing to me. I didn’t have much to do with her.” His gaze traveled over Clare. “Maybe I should have spent time talking with her, learning about her out-of-state family.” His gaze fixed on hers again. “You strike me as a woman with fire.” He leaned over the table. “I like a woman with fire.”

“How well do you know my sister?”

“We’re from this same one-horse town, so I saw her around when we were growing up.” He pinned Clare with a piercing gaze. “How about having dinner with me tonight?” He caressed the back of her hand with a fingertip. “We’ll drive into Columbia. I know a great club, The Starlight.” He lifted her hand and brought it to his mouth, where he ran it across his lips. “I could show you the sights. Show you a nice time. Be back at sun-up. Our little secret. No one would know.”

Like his wife, Clare thought. She extracted her hand from his grasp.

“So where can I pick you up for dinner?” he asked.

Clare removed a business card from her purse and scribbled her cell phone number on the back of it. “If you recall anything Beth may have said to you about her departure, I can be reached at this number.” Clare got to her feet. “Good day, Mr. Dannon.”

Dannon didn’t respond immediately, then said, “Hey, easy come, easy go.”

He shrugged but his smile faded, and his stare turned ice cold, belying his comment.

As Clare turned away from him, she thought the easygoing Dannon wasn’t so easygoing after all.

Clare left Dannon and drove to the sheriff’s office for the meeting with Petty and Jake. Jake had already arrived; his SUV was parked at the curb in front of the small building that housed the Sheriff’s office. There wasn’t another space available there so Clare drove a short distance up the street to a vacant spot.

Inside the small lobby, a deputy sat at a desk, pecking at a computer keyboard.

“Help you, ma’am?” the young deputy asked.

“I’m here for a meeting with Agent Sutton and Sheriff Petty.” Clare held up her ID.

“They’re waiting for you, ma’am. I’m to take you right back to the sheriff’s office. Right this way.”

The deputy rose to his feet and ushered her into a small office. Petty sat behind his desk. Jake was in a shiny chair across from the sheriff. A couple of framed commendations hung on the wall behind the desk. A bookcase held several framed photographs of the sheriff with other people.

The sheriff leaned forward to greet her and the worn leather chair creaked and groaned. “Agent Marshall,” Petty said. “Have a sit-down.”

Jake held the chair beside his for her as she complied.

Jake had already discussed the reason for the meeting when he and Petty set it up earlier, Clare knew. She listened now as he updated her and Petty as to the status of the investigation to that point.

“The Bureau hasn’t had any response from law enforcement offices regarding the missing persons report filed on Beth Ryder yesterday evening,” Jake said. “Nothing yet from VICAP.”

The Violent Criminal Apprehension Program searched for similarities in missing persons cases. Clare wasn’t expecting VICAP to turn up anything relevant to her sister. She didn’t have Dean Ryder pegged as a career criminal. She believed his crimes had been perpetuated against Beth alone.

Clare picked up the conversation, and apprised Petty of their efforts locally to find Beth thus far. She told Petty that Beth had not left town with Gil Hoag, despite having made plans to do so. She also mentioned her suspicion of abuse in Beth’s marriage and that she considered Ryder a suspect in her sister’s disappearance. Despite her antipathy toward Petty, Clare held nothing back about her suspicion of Ryder. She had nothing to lose. Dean Ryder certainly knew that she suspected him. She also wanted to bring as much pressure to bear on Ryder as she could. If Petty thought it prudent to look into Dean Ryder as well, so much the better.

Petty nodded. “We’ll do what we can, of course.”

“Do you have a problem with our jurisdiction on this case, Oz?” Jake asked.

The Bureau didn’t normally investigate adult missing persons unless an abduction across state lines occurred or aid was requested by local law enforcement.

Petty shook his head. “No problem, Jake. I have no experience with this kind of case.”

“We appreciate your help, Oz.” Jake stood and shook Petty’s hand. “Let’s keep in touch.”

“Sure thing, Jake. We’re all on the same team here.”

Clare had no patience for diplomacy and was glad the task fell to Jake.

On the sidewalk in front of the sheriff’s office, Jake turned to her. “Where are you headed?”

Clare dug her car key out of her purse. “To see Gladys Linney.”

She wanted to ask Beth’s adoptive mother about Beth’s last visit again. Something may come back to the woman that could provide a lead to Beth’s whereabouts on a second questioning.

Jake glanced at his watch. “I have another meeting to get to. Let me know if you learn anything from Gladys.”

Gladys wasn’t in her room when Clare arrived at the facility. One of the duty nurses informed Clare that Gladys was partaking of her daily physical therapy needed since her stroke.

Clare took up a position at the wall opposite Gladys’s room to wait.

A couple of nurses strolled past Clare. A door was opened briefly, and for a moment the strains of a violin joined the sounds of call bells ringing, and the rumble of a cart laden with empty lunch trays making its way down the hall.

An elevator door opened. An orderly pushed a wheelchair bearing Gladys onto the floor.

Clare gave the orderly some time to settle Gladys in her room. When the orderly left, she pushed off the wall and tapped on Gladys’s door.

At Gladys’s invitation, Clare entered the room. The elderly woman was propped in the bed, braced by several pillows. The robe she’d been wearing when Clare had glimpsed her a few moments earlier had been removed and the nightgown beneath was a match, patterned with bright yellow daisies. Gladys’s sightless gaze remained directed at the window.

“Mrs. Linney,” Clare said. “It’s Clare Marshall, Beth’s—”

“Hello, Clare.” The woman smiled broadly. “Come in. Come in.” She held out a hand in a gesture of welcome that Clare had so rarely experienced, it discomfited her. Rather awkwardly, she reached out and touched Gladys’s hand. When Clare would have withdrawn her hand, Gladys prevented her from doing so. She grasped Clare’s hand, then clasped it with both of her own, drawing Clare onto the bed beside her. Clare complied, and sat beside Gladys.

“Have you found my Beth?” Gladys asked.

The woman appeared to have aged in the few days since Clare had last seen her, and now a cord connected her wrist to a machine beside her bed that beeped and flashed intermittently.

“Not yet, Mrs. Linney. I’d like to ask you again about Beth’s visit on the day she left Farley,” Clare said.

Gladys splayed her hand across her cheek and frowned, puckering the skin around her eyes. “All right.”

“Tell me again what you and Beth talked about that day.”

“Oh.” Gladys’s vacant stare narrowed in thought. “Beth never told me she was leaving Farley. She never said anything about that.”

“What did she say, Gladys?”

Gladys stroked the fold of the sheet covering her. “We talked about the past, as I recall. Birthday parties. Holidays. Her daddy who passed on a couple years back. I know she misses him.” Gladys’s eyes glistened with tears. “There’s a box on the top shelf in my closet with picture albums. Can you get it, Clare?”

Clare wanted to press on with the questioning, but she also yearned to see photos of Beth. She left Gladys’s bedside and retrieved the covered box. Gladys’s arms were outstretched when Clare returned to her. The box was heavy and Clare handed it over carefully, expecting the frail-looking woman to be unable to support it. She did, however, and plopped it onto her lap.

Clare resumed her seat at the edge of the bed. Gladys removed the lid and placed it on the other side of the mattress. Three photograph albums were stacked atop each other. Gladys removed the first and opened it.

“These are pictures of Beth as a baby,” Gladys said.