The Shadow's Edge (9 page)

             
                                                                                   
15

              It wasn’t an easy decision to come to but, in the end, I concluded traveling to Florida in the hope of finding Callie was absurd. What was I going to do – park in front of our old house and hope she’d show up some time? It simply didn’t compute as a viable course of action for me. The other thing that made me question that Florida was a likely destination for her was the fact that she had bothered to acquire a map. She had driven the route from our home in Florida to Colville before so it wasn’t like she would need a map to do it now. On top of that I had learned from Miles that morning that Mitch Fuller’s pickup had been found abandoned in Lewiston. She’d be that much harder to track now and her destination could be anywhere or nowhere.

             
I had been so close to making contact with her, the frustration of having missed her by a few lousy hours ate at me like acid. But, in the absence of any real or practical alternative, I returned to Colville.

             
It seemed like every time I hit town it was at or near lunchtime and this was no exception. Bix had consumed his daily meal before we left Lewiston and seemed quite content to remain in the pickup. I walked in to Mollie’s, nodded at Kat, and took up my usual spot at the counter. When she got around to me I thought I saw a hint of something in her eyes that spoke of trouble. I was reminded of when we had talked about Charlene Lamont’s circumstances and the disturbing reaction I had noticed when asking her whether she felt the law had anything to do with it. Since then, of course, the details of Croop’s secret life had been revealed and it begged the question of just what it was she had known or suspected.

             
“Hi, Jack,” she said.

             
“So what’s good on the menu today?” I asked.

             
“Whose menu are we talking about?”

             
“That bad, huh?”

             
“Steer clear of anything that ever mooed or oinked, you’ll be fine.”

             
That cut down the choices to eggs or flapjacks. “Bring me what you’d have if you were sitting where I am.”

             
Ten minutes later she dropped a plate of flapjacks in front of me. “Enjoy,” she said before moving on.

             
By the time I finished I was the only one in the place. “Got a minute, Kat,” I called to her. She was bussing tables and took an armload of dirty plates and cups into the kitchen before coming back to perch on the stool beside me. “So,” she said, “any luck finding Callie?”

             
“No. I came close but … no.”

             
“I was so sorry to hear about what happened with Croop.”

             
“Yeah … Listen, I was wondering if maybe we could have another talk when you’re done today.”

             
Her friendly flirtatiousness of the past was definitely not in evidence any more. She seemed reluctant to agree to another get together. “Can I ask what about?”

             
“I still need some answers – now more than ever – and you’re one of the few people I know who might be able to give them to me.”

             
“I don’t think I can help you, Jack. I’m sorry, I really wish I could. But I think you need to be speaking to somebody else.”

             
“Somebody else like who?”

             
She didn’t offer an answer to that. With some reluctance, I thought, she got down from the stool and went back to bussing tables.

             
Her actions, however, did nothing to persuade me to give up on her. If anything I was more convinced than ever that she knew something important. Maybe it had something to do with what had occurred with Callie and maybe it didn’t.

             
RJ Fordham’s appearance at the diner at that moment put an end to thoughts of Kat and whatever it was she did or didn’t know that impacted on what was happening in my life at the moment. “Mr. Parmenter,” he said when he saw me, “Pleased to see you’re back. The Chief would like to talk to you if it’s not too much trouble.”

             
“I’ll stop over there right now,” I said, taking the last gulps of my coffee. I stood and nodded goodbye to Fordham. “Later, Kat,” I called. I noted a look of considerable anxiety on her face as I walked out.

              Jessup greeted me in his office with an offer of coffee. “Thanks,” I said. “Just had one.”

             
“Been out of town, have you?” he asked.

             
I didn’t feel any particular compulsion to answer questions about my personal travel life, periodic whereabouts, or any other damn thing he happened to be curious about. “What was it you wanted to see me about, Chief?”

             
Judging by the menacing look he laid on me, he clearly didn’t like it much when people chose to ignore his questions.
Tough shit
, I thought. I waited him out while he deliberated on whether or not to make an issue of my pigheadedness.

             
“I understand you’ve got some curiosity about what fate may have befallen one Charlene Lamont,” he stated.

             
Now, how
, I wondered,
did he come up with that particular piece of information?
“It’s something I’ve wondered about, yes,” I allowed.

             
“I confess my thinking on the matter has changed recently,” he said. “After what’s come to light about John Croop I’m inclined to make sure there might not be a link between him and Charlene’s disappearance. If it did, in fact, turn out that there was I’m sure you can see that it would likely have a very strong impact on how your wife’s actions might be judged. In particular what may have transpired to cause her to take the steps she did.”

             
On this matter we were very much in agreement. “I’m curious, Chief,” I said. “Just how is it you think I can help you with this?”

             
Jessup rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he looked at the floor. When he looked up he did an uncharacteristic thing. He smiled. “I know you don’t like me much, Mr. Parmenter. In all honesty, you’re not one of my favorite people either. But I do have a grudging respect for your experience in law enforcement. I know you were once a respected agent of the FBI. And I know that, in addition to your curiosity about Charlene, you’ve taken an active role in trying to locate your wife and, I have no doubt, learn what caused her to shoot a man to death. I just want to say that if you come up with any reason to suspect a connection between these events, pass it along to me. I’m a lot more open-minded than folks generally give me credit for.”

             
I mulled things over for a while before I said anything in response to Jessup’s little speech. I came to the conclusion eventually that what he had said made a good deal of sense. For the first time since I had known him a feeling came over me that he might not be such a shit-heel after all.

             
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

             
With that done I left to see about getting my old room at the hotel back. I kind of missed it. It wasn’t much, but it still beat the hell out of a prison cell.

             
                                                                                   
16

              The next morning brought news that I found almost impossible to believe. Not so much because of the news itself but more because of the timing. Not ten hours after my talk with Jessup, Miles called me.

             
“Big news, Jack,” he said. I could hear the excitement in his voice. “The police found evidence linkin’ John Croop to Charlene Lamont.”

             
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said.

             
“Nope, and what evidence it is. A computer flash drive full a pictures a Charlene, hidden in Croop’s garage. They show ’er tied up, gagged, and beaten. If not dead, then awful damn close to it. The information about the flash drive and where it could be found came ta Jessup as well as the state cops by way of untraceable emails.”

             
“Are they absolutely sure it was Croop’s?” I asked. The former cop in me was always looking to discredit the obvious.

             
“Yeah, looks like it. It had Croop’s finger prints all over it.”

             
This was very bad news in the sense that it meant Charlene was almost certainly dead. But it was very good news for me, and for Callie. It now looked as though Callie had not killed a simple stalker but, very likely, a murderer. A case against her for unjustified homicide was quickly diminishing in likelihood.

             
My first thought on hearing this news was that Kat was the emailer. Did she have first hand knowledge of Charlene’s predicament because she had shared a similar experience? Maybe. But it didn’t explain her unwillingness to come forward once she knew Croop was dead. What was I missing here?

             
Maybe it was a simple case of shame. She didn’t want the world to know she had been the victim of a rapist.

             
She wouldn’t be the first woman to face such a predicament.

              As I walked around the quiet streets of Colville with Bix I thought, if only Callie would call again. With what we now knew about Croop it didn’t take much imagination to envision the horrors she may have suffered before making the decision to kill the son-of-a-bitch. She needed to know the things that had been discovered about the man she had killed, how circumstances were lining up in her favor.

             
And I needed something, too. I needed to know she was alive, that she hadn’t, in a moment of total despair, taken the ultimate step to end the misery her life had become.

                                                                                    *              *

              For two days nothing happened. If not for Bix I would probably have gone crazy. We went for long daily walks during which I let him remain unleashed. He stayed very close to me, only occasionally veering off to investigate some irresistible scent before quickly returning to take up his position on my left side. I loved spending time with him but the down side was that he reminded me so much of Winston and that always led to other memories that were not so good.

             
I ate most of my meals at Mollie’s and tried striking up conversations with Kat, but always without success. She seemed happy enough to see me when I arrived at my regular intervals but loathe to speak. It was like she knew perfectly well what I wanted to talk about and she was not going to open any doors she would have difficulty closing.

             
Miles had assured me they were still fine without the pickup but getting low on a few supplies. He gave me a list over the phone of what they needed – mostly pharmacy related stuff - and I delivered it out to them. I purposely planned it so that I would arrive after their lunch but when I got there they were just about to cut into a freshly baked chocolate cake. After a glance passed between them, Betty quietly asked if I’d like to join them for coffee and cake. “I’d like that very much,” I said. She was without exception the best cook I had ever known. It wasn’t an offer I would have turned down under any circumstance.

             
I had taken no more than a bite or two of Betty’s delicious dessert when my cell phone rang. When I answered it a voice I did not immediately recognize said, “Mr. Parmenter, it’s Anne Girard.”

             
I didn’t recognize the name either. “Yes?” I said.

             
“I’m Lauren Faeber’s mother. We met---”

             
“Yes, ma’am, of course,” I said, suddenly realizing the name was unfamiliar to me because I had never actually been introduced to her.

             
“I heard from Callie,” she said.

             
My heart was suddenly hammering so hard I could barely speak. “She’s in Lewiston?”

             
“I don’t know where she is, she didn’t say. But she … she sounds desperate. I begged her to come back to stay with me but I’m afraid she doesn’t completely trust me not to call the police now. I’m not sure whether or not she’ll actually show up.”

             
“Did you get the sense that she was nearby?”

             
“It seems very possible. The way she spoke gave me the feeling she might show up at any moment. Or possibly not. There’s just no way to know I’m afraid.”

             
“Maybe if you tried dialing *69?” I suggested.

             
“Unfortunately I received another call right after hers.”

             
Damn!

             
“One other thing,” Girard continued. “I gave her your cell phone number. I can’t say for certain that she wrote it down or memorized it but she did hear it.”

             
It was, at least, something. “Thank you for your efforts, Ms. Girard. I really do appreciate everything you’ve done.”

             
“It’s Anne,” she said. “If I hear from her again I’ll call you immediately.”

             
“Once again, thank you.”

             
After I hung up Miles and Betty needed only a little in the way of clarification. Hearing my side of the phone conversation had been sufficiently enlightening.

             
“What are ya going to do, Jack?” Miles asked.

             
“I don’t think there’s any point in going back to Lewiston at this stage,” I said. “We don’t know that she’s even there, or that she will be. I can be there in forty-five minutes if Anne calls again.”

              To my dismay, in the days that followed, I heard nothing more from Anne Girard. The one positive aspect of having heard from her at all was that I now at least knew Callie was alive. But Anne had made a point of saying she sounded desperate. All in all, the call had done little to ease my anxiety.

                                                                                    *              *

              Following a walk with Bix I stopped in to see Jessup to learn if the state cops were having any more luck than I was in the search for Callie. “Afraid not,” he said.

             
There was a look on Jessup’s face that left me with the impression he wanted to say more but was reluctant. “I can read faces pretty well, Chief,” I said. “Unless I’m very badly mistaken you’ve got something on your mind.”

             
He shrugged. “It’s not an opinion I should be sharing with you,” he said, “but the truth is the more I learn about Croop the more inclined I am to think maybe your wife gave him exactly what he had coming.”

             
I, of course, was in total harmony with Jessup’s leanings about Croop but I nonetheless wanted to find Callie before the cops did. My reasons were purely protectionist in nature. No one knew yet precisely what had gone down between Callie and Croop and I wanted to make sure she didn’t inadvertently worsen the case against herself by not knowing the full story about Croop. The longer she remained at large, however, the more acceptable it was becoming that she be found by anyone. I considered opening up to Jessup about how close I had come to finding her in Lewiston. There was always the possibility it would help the state cops zero in on her.               Although tempted, for the moment I made the decision to say nothing.