What You See (9 page)

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Authors: Ann Mullen

Tags: #Mystery

BOOK: What You See
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“Hey, even the dogs are friendly, Athena.”

As we got closer to the house, I turned and said to our new
companions, “All right, you two dogs go on back home.” Much to my surprise,
they turned and headed back in the other direction. Cool, dogs that obey your
command. What will I discover next?

Dad was reading the paper at the table and Mom was cooking
breakfast, humming a familiar song.

“I remember that song. You used to sing it to us when we were
kids,” I said. “I just can’t remember the name of it.”

Ignoring my statement, Mom asked, “What do you think of Cole?
Y’all stayed up pretty late last night.”

Remembering what Cole had said about Moms, I softly answered,
“I like him. He’s nice. We hit it off, so you can stop playing matchmaker.
We’re going for a ride on the
Skyline
Drive
tomorrow.”

Dad snickered under his breath as Mom said, “I knew you two
were perfect for each other. I told Mack you were meant to be together.”

“What gives you that idea? Is it one of those feelings you
get?”

“It was the way you drooled all over yourself the first time
you met him,” Dad laughed, turning his back to me.

“I didn’t drool all over myself,” I promptly replied as I sat
at the table with a fresh cup of coffee. “I admit that I was taken with Cole
when I first met him, and I may have reacted strongly, but I did not drool.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Mack. She was doing what most women do
when they meet a handsome man like Cole. She was examining him,” Mom said,
coming to my defense. I love it when women stick up for each other.

I heard the rumble of thunder and went to look out the
window. The dark clouds I saw off in the distance earlier had moved overhead.

“Please, tell me that’s not what I think it is. I was hoping
those gray clouds were going to move out. Is it supposed to rain today, Dad?”

“According to the weather forecast in the paper it says—early
scattered thunderstorms tapering off to light rain in the afternoon—but it looks
like rain all day to me. I guess we’ll have to miss the county fair. I was so
looking forward to playing games, riding rides, and following you two around.”

“Oh, don’t fret Dad, you still have tomorrow. Of course, I’ll
have to pass on all the fun. I have a date with Cole.”

I was disappointed we weren’t going to the county fair. I
would miss out on seeing Cole, but at least I still had a chance to be with him
tomorrow. Mom must’ve sensed my frustration. She came over and put her arm
around my shoulder and gave me one of her motherly hugs. She has an uncanny way
of knowing how I feel, without my saying a word. I can never hide anything from
her.

By the time we finished eating breakfast, the storm had moved
in. I’ve always had a thing about thunderstorms. Maybe I was traumatized as a
child. Now when I see lightning and hear thunder, all I want to do is close the
curtains and crawl into bed. However, on the other hand, I love the rain. I
don’t want to stand out in it, but there’s nothing like curling up on the couch
with a good book, while the rain beats down on the roof. Rain makes things
grow, and when it’s over, the air smells so clean. I could never figure out why
people get depressed when it rains.

Since the day was going to be a washout, I decided I’d spend
time going over the file Billy had asked me to read. I offered to help Mom with
the dishes, but she said she’d take care of them when the storm passed. I went
up to my room with Athena hot on my heels—maybe she was afraid of storms, too.
I closed the curtains on the front dormer window and the big double window on
the side, and then sat down on the bed, file in hand.

The file contained a copy of the newspaper article published
two days after the disappearance of Helen Carrolton; a copy of her birth certificate;
and three pages of handwritten notes concerning the case. I assumed the notes
were written by one of her parents because there were bits of information added
here and there in the margins. The last page of the notes had stain spots on
it, as if someone had been crying while writing and their tears had spilled
onto the paper. It was all so sad. I could sense the agony with each stroke of
the pen. Their only child had been missing for six months—vanished without
leaving a trace. Unless Helen Carrolton was found, dead or alive, there would
be no closure for
Myra
and Jack Carrolton.

From the information contained in the file, it appeared that
Helen Carrolton, age 19, had left her home on
Wythe Creek Road
in Poquoson the 26th of December, around
four o’clock
in the afternoon. She should have arrived at her
friend, Emma Lawrence’s home in Gordonsville around seven or
eight o’clock
, depending on the traffic on I-64
and the I-295 Richmond by-pass.

Emma was going to use her Christmas vacation to move to her
new apartment closer to the university in
Charlottesville
, and Helen was going to help her with the move.

At
ten
o’clock
, Emma’s
parents, Wayne and Donna Lawrence called Jack and
Myra
looking for Helen. From that moment on, there were a
frenzy of phone calls placed to various local and state police departments and
hospitals.

Eventually, calls were made to Helen’s other friends,
obviously a last ditch effort. There were no reports of accidents involving a
red ‘99 Chevy Geo, driven by a 19 year old female, 110 pounds, short blond
hair, blue eyes, and wearing glasses.

There was no one admitted to area hospitals that fit that
description either. She wasn’t in an automobile accident, or in the hospital,
and she wasn’t in jail... so where was she? An official missing person’s report
was filed with the Poquoson Police Department twenty-four hours later. The
Carroltons had driven to Gordonsville to the
Lawrence
’s house, checking out every little nook and cranny on their
way, looking for Helen’s car. They stopped at the rest area on I-64 westbound,
near the weigh station, checked every hill, pasture and building in the
background of I-295, and then stopped at the rest area on the second leg of
I-64. Finally, they had taken the Zion Crossroads exit, and ended their drive
at the
Lawrence
’s farm. Neither Helen, nor her car
was anywhere to be found.

That was the complete file. There was no official police
report. Yet, from what I’d read, there were so many questions left to be
answered—questions that could only be answered by a police report. Billy and I
had to get that report, or we were dead in the water. We had nothing to go on.
Somewhere along the way, somebody must’ve seen her. Did she stop to get gas?
Did she stop to eat? Where were the eyewitness reports? It was a three-hour
drive. Who drives for three hours without stopping to get gas, or at least
stopping to pee?

In the middle of my reading, the phone rang.

“It’s for you, Jesse,” Mom yelled up the stairs.

“I got it,” I replied as I picked up the receiver thinking, I
have to get a private line.

“Hello,” I said.

“Jesse, this is Billy. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine. How are you doing?”

“I’m good, thanks. I called because I have some work to do
tonight, and I’d like you to be with me. It’s surveillance work, so all you
have to do is sit in the car. If you don’t want to do it, I’ll understand. I
just thought it would give you some insight as to what kind of work I do.
Surveillance work is a big part of a private investigator’s job. Unfortunately,
it’s a lot of sitting and not much excitement.”

“Sure! I’d love it,” I answered, without hesitation. “I have
a slight problem with transportation at the moment. My car has turned into a
vegetable. Let me ask my folks if I can use the van.”

“Forget the van. I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay, what time?”

“Don’t you want to know anything about the job first?”

“No, not now. I’m sure you will fill me in on it later,
right?”

“You got it! I’ll be there around
five o’clock
.”

“Do you know how to get here?”

“Yes, I do. I’m a private detective. Don’t you remember? I
have your address. That’s all I need. I’ll see you at five.”

“Whatever you say,” I mumbled as I heard the dial tone in my
ear.

Wow! I was getting my first chance to go out on a real
stakeout. I was so excited, until I remembered Cole’s warning. What was going
to happen tonight? Were we going to be in danger like Cole said, or am I going
to see what the life of a real private eye is really like? What if it turns out
to be boring?

I hung up the phone. I’d been so busy studying the file, I
didn’t realize it was past
noon
until Mom called out, “Lunch is
ready, Jesse.”

The thunderstorms had passed by the time Billy arrived, but
the rain was still coming down, slow and steady. The weather forecaster had
been right on target.

Billy was driving a blue, Dodge pickup truck. It looked new,
and was a sight better than the ragged Mercury I’d seen parked in front of the
office on Friday. After a quick introduction and a question and answer session
with my parents, Billy and I left for our night of spying.

“Your parents are nice people, Jesse. They remind me of mine.
They have to know everything,” Billy said, a smile forming.

“Yes, they do have a tendency to dig right in,” I agreed. “I
appreciate your candidness with them. I don’t think they realize how dangerous
this job can be. It can be dangerous, can’t it? I met this man who knows you,
and he said you got shot doing the same thing we’re getting ready to do
tonight. That’s not going to happen, right?”

He looked at me with a reassuring smile and said, “I sure
hope not. I can’t promise anything, but I can tell you, I’ve learned a lot
since that happened. I didn’t have my mind on my work and I paid for it dearly.
I won’t let that happen again.” He was silent as we crossed the
South River
Bridge
.
Then he asked, “Who is this man you’re talking about?”

“Cole James,” I replied. “I met him a few days ago when he
stopped by the house to introduce himself. He lives up the road a couple of
miles. He’s a cop here in
Greene
County
.”

“Actually, he’s a deputy.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Yes and no. A deputy can act in place of the sheriff, and a
policeman acts for the department.”

“I don’t see the difference.”

“Oh, you will.”

“Now that you’ve completely explained that one to me, tell me
about the job.” It was obvious Billy was going to let me find out for myself
the dealings of a small town sheriff’s department. “Does this have anything to
do with that Mrs. Miller woman?”

“That was a good guess,” he replied.

“It wasn’t very hard, considering she’s the only client I’ve
met since the Carroltons. However, you could have other clients that I haven’t
met,” I said, trying to pry a little deeper into his business.

“I have two other cases, but I’m about ready to tie those up
real soon. I have this one case involving employee theft at Walker Hardware
Store in
Albemarle
County
.
That’s an easy one. I went in last night with Mr. Walker after the store
closed, and set up a video camera.”

“Who’s going to turn it on?”

After a good little belly laugh, Billy replied, “I can see
I’m going to have to teach you a few things about modern technology. They have
equipment out there that allows you to listen to someone without being in the
room, and cameras that operate by motion detectors.”

I could tell he was making fun of me. He probably thought I
was ignorant. I sure felt like it.

“Anyway,” he went on, “Mr.
Walker
won’t be at work until
noon
,
so that just leaves our boy, Bobby Weaver, all by himself. The minute he steps
behind the service counter... gotcha! The camera’s activated, and we’ll have it
all on tape.”

“What’s he stealing? How does he get it out of the store? Or,
is he just taking money?”

“Oh, he steals money, but mostly, it’s tools and equipment.
It seems he has someone come into the store and pretend to be buying something.
A few minutes later, the person leaves, with goods in hand.”

“How can you be sure you’re going to catch him today?”

“Because of all the money and stuff this boy has been
stealing, he’s got to be doing it on a regular basis. Why stop now? He’s
actually stupid enough to think he’s going to continue to get away with it. Mr.
Walker said his inventory girl keeps good records. She keeps track of all the
deliveries to the store, and all sales. Nothing gets past her. Oh, we’ll get
him today. I’m sure of it,” Billy said, confident that he would prevail.

“How much money would a job like this pay?” I asked as I cut
my eyes sideways to him, and then smiled that sheepish smile I conjure up every
so often.

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