Obsession (7 page)

There were no secret hiding places in this small bedroom. No nothing. Just plain white walls, pink sheets and bedspread along with a thrift store wardrobe. And a single wooden cross hanging over the headboard.

“But there is something not quite as it should be.” From her supine position on the twin size bed, Jess pointed to the ceiling directly above her. “See. I would have checked it myself but I couldn’t reach it.”

The ceiling was covered with twelve-inch by twelve-inch generic acoustic tiles used in many sixties and seventies houses of this style. The tiles hadn’t been painted since installation, allowing the yellowing of age to show. Other than a little dingy and a few dents and dings, he didn’t see anything to get excited about. “See what?”

“See the one tile that sticks down just a smidge lower than the others.”

He frowned, glanced at her, mentally jarred all over again at the eyeglasses tucked into place on the bridge of her cute little nose, then back at the ceiling. He didn’t see it. These type tiles were installed by hand, one at a time. It wasn’t surprising to find one or two not quite level or square with the others.

“Right there.” She shook her finger and aimed it straight at whatever the hell she thought she saw.

Maybe he needed glasses, too. Then he saw it. The slightest disruption in the flow of tiles. “Okay. I see what you’re talking about.” He toed off his loafers. Jess scooted over as he climbed onto the bed. Gripping the tile at the edges was impossible. It didn’t protrude enough beyond the level of the others around it to get an adequate hold with the tips of his fingers.

“I’ll get the nail file.” Jess scrambled off the bed and went to the dresser. “Reanne had to have used something to pry it loose.”

The metal nail file and wooden hairbrush were the only grooming tools in the room. No razor, hair dryer, curling iron, no perfumes, and no make-up. Also, as Jess pointed out, strange for a teenager.

She handed him the file and he wiggled it under the edge of the tile. A rip like tearing cloth sounded as he lifted one side far enough to get his fingers beneath it.
Velcro
. The tongue sides of the tile had been cut free of the ones around it, the precise divide would have required a box cutter or xacto knife. With this tile cut free from the others, Reanne or someone had used Velcro to reattach it to the narrow wood strips beneath.

The wood strips were secured to the ceiling joists, the spaces between allowed for reaching into the darkness that was attic space. The bat of insulation that should have covered the strips was missing. He could see the insulation all around the area, indicating there had, in fact, been insulation and this particular strip had purposely been moved.

Jess stood beside him now. “Can you reach high enough to see if anything’s hidden up there?”

He stretched, felt around on the layer of rough textured insulation on either side of the opening. His fingers encountered a small package or box-like shape. He snagged the object without any trouble. Cigarettes. Camel Lights. The pack was half empty and a disposable lighter was tucked inside.

“Bet her mother doesn’t know about that.” 

“You’d win that bet.” He passed the pack to Jess and reached up again. His fingers curled around another small rectangular shaped object. Metal or plastic. Recognition flared and adrenalin lit inside him. He brought the item down and Jess gasped.

“A cell phone!” She snatched it out of his hand. “Oh…my…God.” 

She fiddled with the phone while Dan felt around the space for any other surprises.

“The battery’s dead.”

“She’s been missing for eighteen days. I’m not surprised.” He carefully replaced the tile, pressing it firmly against the Velcro to ensure it stayed. “Come on.”

He stepped off the bed and helped Jess down. They’d searched the house and this room numerous times with the Parsons’ permission. With a dead body only recently removed one door down the hall, he didn’t feel compelled to request permission now.

While he stepped into his shoes, Jess tucked the Camel Lights and the cell in her bag and tidied the bedspread.

“We need to run those through evidence,” he reminded her as she tugged on her high heels. The woman’s legs were more shapely now than they’d been at twenty-two and…not for his viewing pleasure.

“Yeah, yeah.” She smoothed her hair, slung her enormous bag on her shoulder. “I’m ready to do that right now.”

“Don’t you want to talk to Mrs. Parsons?” 

Jess reached for the door. “Patterson will brief us later. Besides, I spoke to her after the service. Right now I need a Wal-Mart.”

“You what?” Why hadn’t she told him about that? He started to demand an answer but she was already out the door. He heaved a sigh, turned off the light and closed the door as he exited. He had an idea what was on her mind. He nodded to the uniform waiting in the living room and hesitated. The minister was no longer seated on the sofa.

“Chief Patterson asked the reverend to join them in the kitchen,” the officer explained at Dan’s questioning look.

 “Have Chief Patterson call me when he’s finished here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Patterson was going to be seriously unhappy about him and Jess leaving without sharing their find. From a legal standpoint it wasn’t a problem. The Parsons had authorized a search of their home when Reanne went missing. None of the parents involved in this case had insisted on a search warrant. Patterson would be pissed but if this discovery got them one step closer to solving this enigma, Dan didn’t care if the man made his life miserable for the next month.

Outside the coroner’s wagon was gone. The crowd at the street had tripled in size. Shrewdly, Jess had already climbed into his SUV. The local news hadn’t made her yet. Once her identity was uncovered, a whole other facet of this nightmare would begin. Accusations that local law enforcement couldn’t get the job done would fly. Something else Dan could care less about.

More uniforms were holding back the news folks and sightseers. Questions were shouted in Dan’s direction but he ignored them. This was Patterson’s territory. He had no wish to step on the man’s toes any further than he already had.

“Dan!”

He stalled. One of the reporters rushed to the secured perimeter. She’d gotten the word fast and hustled on down here. Then, that was her job. Gina Coleman had connections. Connections she had worked hard to cultivate. Her methods often skirted the boundaries of propriety, but he couldn’t knock her for that. He’d been known to skate around that precarious perimeter himself.

He motioned for the officer to allow her through. Protests rumbled through the crowd. Reporters hated it when cops played favorites. What could he say? He’d shared a hell of a lot more than a story with this woman. He owed her. He glanced at his SUV where Jess waited. She would have questions and she wouldn’t be happy he’d made her wait.

“Thanks.” Gina’s gaze swept over him the way it always did, as if they hadn’t seen each other in ages and she was prepared to take up where they’d left off. “I realize most of whatever happened in there can’t be released yet.”

But that wasn’t going to stop her from asking. “Chief Patterson is going to make a statement shortly.” Dan hoped it would be soon. “That’s all I can give you, Gina.” He held up his hands. “You know the drill.” 

She smiled, the smile that had captured his attention the first time they met in a situation not unlike this one. “I appreciate that. But you’re Birmingham’s chief of police. Your citizens want to hear from
you
.”

Oh, she was good. That she had the look and attitude of a runway model had gotten her a long ways but her skill at getting the story had launched her to the top and kept her there. “Ms. Coleman, I can tell you this. If you come by my office around noon I’ll give you an exclusive scoop on a possible break in the case. You have my word.”

There went that smile again. “I’ll be there.”

He had about nine hours to figure a way to give her something that would satisfy her insatiable appetite for the breaking story. It never hurt to have an ally in the media, no matter that their personal differences would never permit anything other than a professional relationship. That seemed to be his life story.

Dan walked back to the SUV, surprised that Jess hadn’t stuck her head out the window and demanded that he get his ass in gear.

“Take your time. It’s not like we’re in a hurry or anything,” she complained as he settled into the driver’s seat.

“Yes, ma’am.” Dan started the engine.

“Who was that reporter?” Jess twisted in her seat to get another look at the woman in question as Dan backed out of the driveway. “I thought Patterson was making a statement. Why were you talking to her?”

Was that mere curiosity or jealousy he heard in her voice? Oh yeah, now there was a thought. He’d definitely gone too long without sleep. “Gina Coleman, channel six. She’s the hottest television reporter in Birmingham right now. We need her on our side.”

Jess made a sound that boasted her low regard for his explanation. “Does she have any other talents besides being hot?”

Now that definitely sounded like jealousy. He stole a peek at his passenger as he guided the SUV between the dozens of vehicles gathered on the street. “She has many talents.”

“I’ll bet she does,” Jess muttered. “I was thinking,” she said as if she’d just cast Gina out of her head and was on to more important subject matter. “We should find out what’s on this phone and how it impacts the case before we pass along the discovery to Patterson. It may be nothing. No need to get him all worked up for nothing.”

“He won’t like it.”

“He’s a big boy, he can take it.”

She was right about that. If finding that phone got them a step closer to finding one or more of those girls, Dan would dance on Patterson’s toes any day of the week and twice on Sunday.

~*~

Birmingham Regional Lab, 3:45 a.m.

“It’s a one of those pay as you go phones.” The young forensics expert wore a rumpled shirt that wasn’t buttoned properly and ragged blue jeans. “You know,
prepaid
. They’re all over the place. We probably won’t be able to track down who bought and activated it, unless they actually used their real name and address. But we can snatch the call, text, whatever history between this phone and others from the carrier.”

Jess heaved a sigh. “But that takes time.” And a subpoena, she didn’t bother pointing out. All the calls and texts and contacts had been deleted from the cheap phone. Probably in case Reanne’s parents found it.

“Definitely,” Vernon agreed.

After picking up a car charger at a Tuscaloosa Wal-Mart, Jess had charged the cell phone on the way here. Burnett had called in a favor and gotten Ricky Vernon, an electronics forensic expert, to meet them at Birmingham’s Lab. Technically Vernon was a forensic biologist, but he’d taught himself the other. Jess decided he was like her; he needed a real hobby.

“I have a SIM card recovery product, that depending upon the network and how the info was deleted, I might be able to retrieve the last fifteen or twenty calls, text messages and some of the contacts.”

“That would be great.” If Jess weren’t so utterly drained she would hug the guy and fix his buttons. The need to find a break in this case was all that kept her upright after little or no sleep for way too long. She hadn’t slept more than an hour here and there in days.
Don’t think about it
. Complete focus on this case was paramount.

“Give me a few minutes and we’ll see what we get.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Vernon.”

He gifted her with another of those lopsided smiles. For a twenty-something geek who’d been rousted out of bed at three o’clock in the morning he was incredibly amiable.

That word, however, did not describe Chief Patterson. She watched Burnett pace the corridor on the other side of the glass wall that separated them. He’d gotten a call from Patterson about the time they arrived at the lab and the two had been talking since. Judging by the grim face Burnett wore, it was a monumental battle with no peace treaty in sight.

“Here we go.”

Jess scooted her chair closer to Vernon’s. “Any calls, specifically in the last week of June?”

He shook his head. “Only text messages. Here.” He passed her the phone. “You can read them.”

ICW

I <3 U

SYS F2F

4ever

She hated text language. What the hell did any of this mean? Frustrated, she handed the phone back to him. “Why don’t you read it to me?”

“Yeah, texting is a whole language of its own.”

Why couldn’t people just communicate in English? Real English.

“The user of this phone sent a text saying
I can’t wait
.” Vernon flicked a key with his thumb. “Received one
, I love you
. Sent,
see you soon face to face
. Received,
forever
.” His gaze connected with hers. “That’s all there is.”

As numb as Jess felt from the sheer mental and physical exhaustion of the past few days, anticipation roared through her. “She intended to meet someone.”

Vernon confirmed her statement with a nod.

That changed everything. The possibilities of just how dramatically this changed the investigation spiraled wildly in her brain.

“Can you determine when those messages were sent?” Her heart skipped a beat as he thumbed through the keys.

“June 26
^th
. That’s all we got. Nothing before or since.”

A new rush of adrenalin launched her out of the chair. “What about the other number?” She shook herself, reached for calm. Had to think straight. “The number of the person she was communicating with. Can we find and trace that number to its owner?”

“Roger that.” He scribbled on a note pad then tore off the page. “Here you go. The number and the contact name as it appears on this phone. I warn you that if it’s another prepaid phone, you may discover the owner’s info is stolen or made up. When a person doesn’t want to be tracked down, that’s what they do. It’s incredibly easy.”