To Probe A Beating Heart (22 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

The next one, yes, the next one . . .

Averell woke around noon to the sound of the maid rattling door knobs.

             
“Still here, but I will be out in a few minutes.”

             
“It’s okay,” said the Spanish accent, “checkout was at noon, ten minutes ago, maybe I am not here yet, okay.”

             
“Thanks, I’ll hurry.”

             
“Okay.”

             
Averell had already packed up and had simply to vacate the room, he hurriedly visited the bathroom and was out the door when the maid  said, “You just leave me the keys and I will tell them you were gone before noon.”

             
Averell looked at her name tag and said to the short, overweight and  almost elderly woman, “Maria, you are a beautiful person.”

             
Maria giggled and said, “Oh Mr. Danker, you are always so nice.”

             
Averell loaded his car and drove out of the lot heading east.

             
The trip east was longer than he had anticipated. It seemed as though everyone on his list wanted more of everything in anticipation of the upcoming school year. He decided to violate his rule of two stops per day and was making three most days and staying longer in each town to make sure he hit everybody he could. His normal two week trek west took over three weeks, but the orders made it worth his while. When he finally made it back to his base in Rochester, he looked at his records and said, “Holy—, I could take a few months off, wow, I did damn good this trip.”

             
“So, we look at new cars now, right?”

             
“Right, a new buggy for Averell.”

             
“And me too?”

             
“Yeah, and you.”

             
Averell drove to the dealer where he had purchased the van and the SUV. He was greeted by a salesman and he asked, “Is Tom Walters here today?”

             
“Tom, oh he is no longer here, I can help you though,” said the salesman.

             
“No that’s alright, do you know where he went?”

             
“Ah, well I think he went to our dealership on the east side of town, on Clark Street.”

             
“I know where that is, thanks,” and he left.

             
When he arrived at the Clark Street lot, Averell saw Tom in the showroom talking to some people. He parked his SUV and walked into the showroom and as a salesman approached him, he said, “I want to talk to Tom when he is free.”

             
“Oh, okay, Mr. Walters is very busy today, could I tell him what this              is about?”

             
“Sure, I want to buy a car.”

             
“Well he usually leaves that up to the sales team, that’s us on the floor.”

             
“Really, well—”

             
Before he could finish his sentence, Tom crossed the room and extended his hand, “Averell, how have you been?”

             
Averell looked at the salesman and said, “That’s why I wanted to see Tom, I haven’t seen him in a coupla’ years and he remembers me.”               “Not bad for an old guy, eh Averell. Dave I’ll handle this one and put it on your tab.”

             
“Oh sure Mr. Walters, sure.”

             
“You seem to be doing pretty well here,” said Averell.

             
“Yeah, well after you bought that monster out there,” he said, pointing at Averell’s SUV, “the manager’s slot came open at this place and I jumped on it.”

             
“So what can I do for you today?” asked Tom.

             
“Well, it’s time for a change, a new buggy for Averell.”

             
“How did the SUV work out, I mean, that’s a lot of vehicle there, you sure that you need a change. How many miles have you put on it?”

             
“Well, I have about 140,000 miles on it now, and it rides like a champ. But I don’t want to hold on too long and be surprised with repairs when it starts to come apart.”

              “I know what you mean, but let me suggest that we take a quick look at it, and then we talk, okay?”

             
“Sure.”

             
“Can I have the keys?”

             
Tom had a mechanic take it for a spin and drive it into the shop for a peek under the hood. When he returned with the keys and a printout, Tom led Averell into his office. They sat down and Tom looked at the report. “Averell, you do not need a new car. I am more than happy to sell you one, but this SUV is in beautiful condition and it’s got a lot of miles left in it. It’s your call.”

             
“Tom, I really appreciate that, but as I said, I think I ready to change.”

             
“Okay, do you have anything in mind?”

             
“I was considering getting a sedan again, but I’m open.”

             
“Let’s look at what we have here,” and Tom led Averell out to the show room.

             
They looked at vans, sedans, SUVs and even trucks and Averell came back to the sedan and minivan several times.

             
“I think we have it down to one of these two,” said Tom. “Dave, come here a minute.”

             
“Yes sir, Mr. Walters.”

             
“Dave, bring one of these sedans up front, I think Mr. Danker would like a test drive.”

             
“You got it,” and Dave disappeared into the finance office. A few

minutes later Dave pulled up in a dark blue sedan like the one Averell was
looking at. “Keys are in the ignition,” said Dave as Tom and Averell went outside to the car.

             
“Averell, take her for a ride, take your time, I have a number of calls to catch up on so, let’s say you are back here in an hour and we can continue.”

             
“An hour?”

             
“Sure, you spend a lot of time on the freeway, so that’s where you

should check it out.”

              “Okay,” and he drove off the lot toward the freeway.

             
“This is nice, smooth, big back seat, big trunk.”

             
“Yeah, nice, we should do this one.”

             
“I think so,” and he headed back to the dealership.

             
He was back in less than an hour and Tom came out of his office,

             
“Well whatta’ ya think Averell?”

             
“I think we like it.”

             
“We, is there a Mrs. Danker?”

             
“I mean, I like it and no, there’s no Mrs. Danker.”

             
“Hey, what about me?”

             
“Okay, let’s pick out the right color, and combination of options for you.”

             
“I like this one, it drove real nice, has the things I like in it. Can I take this one?”

             
“Let’s look at the paperwork on this one and get you a number. I gotta’ tell you, this one has a lot of goodies included.”

             
“Yeah, but I like it.”

             
“So do I.”

             
“We, I mean I, think this is the one.”

             
“Okay, give me a coupla’ hours to clean and prep and get the papers in order.”

Averell drove his SUV down the road to a fast food place and had
lunch. “That was easy.”

             
“Yeah, we are gonna’ be lookin’ sharp today, nice new buggy.”

             
All said and done two hours later Averell was driving his new car and the monthly payments were less than the previous vehicle’s. “Yes sir, we are sharp.”

             
The rest of the summer passed without incident. Averell was doing quite well financially and the new car was proving to be a wise investment. He fed it the higher grade of gas and made sure the oil was changed regularly and it got it’s thirty thousand mile check-up in December and the sixty thousand mile check-up in June of 1994. On several occasions, Averell passed by Ellie’s town home. He noted her car and Steve’s truck frequently. “They must be getting along.”

             
“They deserve each other.”

             
“I wonder about Sarah. If he sees her as his daughter, or is he thinking of her in other ways?”

             
“Maybe both.”

             
“Now that’s sick, I don’t think he’s like that.”

             
“We should watch, and be sure.”

             
“Yeah, maybe a little. And if he is, then, well, then we should do

something.”

              “We would do Steve ?”

             
“Maybe, first we watch, then we decide.”

             
“Yeah, we watch.”

* * *

              Jim McClarry scanned the morning newspaper on a daily basis, looking for anything that may increase his data base. There were several missing children reports each month and he recorded each one in the data base as he found them. His sources were limited, but he was persistent and the data base was growing, but still no definitive connecting factors. The missing persons and murder cases were scattered around the country. Maybe this is a waste of time he thought. “Oh well, what else am I gonna’ do?” Frustrating, but that was what detective work was, frustrating, until one little piece of something adds to another and then it grows. Piece by piece, it starts to come together. Then, if you are lucky, evidence and irrefutable proof are added to the mixture and a case is built, arrests can be made and it goes to trial. Bingo, a job well done.

             
The day following her disappearance, Jim found an article about a missing girl in Indiana and added Kathy to the map. He now had a line that went from Goshen Indiana to Cleveland Heights to McKean to Syracuse, New York. Interstate 90, interesting, very interesting. This could be what Alex was talking about. One little piece that ties the others together. Time to visit with Dr. Robertson.

             
Jim shook his head and said aloud, “Okay, Jimmy boy, stop yer dreamin’ and let’s get this day started.” He stood up and grabbed a notebook that he had been keeping and walked out of his apartment. If he hustled, he would not be late for work, it was a brisk walk only two blocks away and with a little jog in the middle, he was on time.

             
“Sean, you said if I ever come up with something, I should take it upstairs,” said Jim “show it to the D’s, well, I think that I may have something.”

             
“Yeah, you got something?”

             
“Maybe, and maybe not. Let’s take a walk upstairs.”

             
They went up to the detectives offices and caught the captain. Sean called across the squad room “Hey George, you got a minute?”

             
“For you guys, all day,” he said sarcastically, but with a grin. “Come on in. What can I do for ya’?”

              “You guys know that Annette Shelton is my cousin?” said Jim.

             
“Yeah, and Sean is also related. I figured that it had to do with Annette when I saw both of you. And I have had several conversations with Alex, seems as though he thinks we should revisit the neighborhood.”

             
Jim stepped closer, “Look, I don’t want to screw anything up, so I do my thing just with stuff in the papers and what I catch on the internet. And I may have something.”

             
“Okay, so let’s see it,” said George.

             
“Yeah, let’s see it,” said Sean.

             
Jim opened his note book and flipped a few pages, “I’ve been tracking any and every kid gone missing that I see in the media. These four kinda’ stick out. The interesting thing is Interstate 90. In ninety one, Annette in Cleveland Heights; in ninety two, Candice Brighten in McKean, Pennsylvania; in ninety two again, Megan Norris in Syracuse, New York; and in ninety three Kathy Callen in Goshen, Indiana. All along Interstate 90. It may be nothing, and you guys may already have seen this but, well Alex told me that the smallest thing could be important, so I had to say something.”