Wrecked (Josie Gray Mysteries #3)(16)

Half a block down the street, she saw Officer Marta Cruz standing guard beside her patrol car, her thumbs hooked through her belt loops. When Josie reached her, the concern in her face was obvious, and Josie was suddenly glad to be leaving the scene.

“I’ll drive,” Marta said.

As they drove, the vivid image of Dillon knotting his tie in Josie’s kitchen doorway the morning before came to her. It was as if she could reach out and touch his oxford cloth shirt and feel the smooth texture of his silk tie. The reality of what was happening once again hit her like an iron ball to the chest as she heard Marta say, “Everything that is humanly possible.”

Josie nodded, trying to focus. She felt Marta’s eyes on her as they drove toward River Road. “Did you find an address?” she asked, her voice gentle.

“Dillon said his meeting was on Driftriver Drive at six with a potential client. That’s all we have.”

Marta nodded. “We’ll drive through the neighborhood, see if you catch anything I missed. Then we can split the houses up and question.” She drove for a moment in silence. “You remember last year when Teresa ran away? You put yourself at risk, risked your life even, for my daughter. And you brought her home.”

Josie stared out at the road flying by them.

“It’s my turn to return the favor, Josie. And I’m not the only one. This community appreciates what you’ve given through the years. We’ll find who did this, and we’ll find Dillon. He’s an innocent man. We all know that.”

Josie listened to the passion in Marta’s voice and tried to find hope, something more than the numbness in her fingers and the white noise in her brain.

She quietly thanked Marta and checked her cell phone for messages, again. Nothing.

Driftriver Drive was an oval-shaped neighborhood with six homes facing the center of the development: four houses on the front side of the circle, and two houses on the back. In the center was a small field of brown grass that had originally been intended as a park. The neighborhood was less than half developed, halted by a flagging economy.

A quick drive around the block showed again that Dillon’s car wasn’t in the area. Marta pulled up in front of the four side-by-side homes at the front of the development. “You take the two on the right? I’ll take these two?”

The first home Josie approached was a one-story mauve-colored adobe with arched windows and doors. White rock and a few gnarled cactuses were interspersed between two cottonwood trees in front. An older-model Toyota Camry was parked outside of the garage. Josie could see the outline of someone standing inside the house, looking out what she assumed was the living room window.

Josie rang the doorbell and a thin man in his late twenties answered the door in spandex biking shorts and a bright yellow T-shirt. Josie recognized the man as the owner of a new fitness club downtown, yet another business struggling to keep its doors open.

After Josie showed her badge and introduced herself as the chief of police with the Artemis Police Department, he invited her inside to a small foyer where a young woman joined them, also wearing bike shorts, along with a sports bra. Her short black hair was wet and her cheeks bright red from exertion. Half of the living room was filled with exercise equipment, and the house had the distinct odor of sweat that she associated with a gym.

Josie questioned the couple about their neighbors and whether they’d seen Dillon or had any knowledge of a meeting taking place in the subdivision. Neither of them knew Dillon other than as a local businessman, nor were they aware of any new people moving into the neighborhood. Both looked perplexed at the line of questioning.

Josie finally summarized the investigation. “A young woman was murdered at the Office of Abacus, last night. The owner of the business, Dillon Reese, is missing.”

The couple looked at each other with shocked expressions.

“Mr. Reese was scheduled to meet with a new client yesterday evening at six. The house was located somewhere in the Driftriver Drive development.”

“Which house?” the man asked.

“We don’t know that.”

“The only people living out here are in these four homes.” The woman pointed with her thumb behind her back. “The two houses on the back side of the block are empty. I just talked to Junior Daggy a few days ago. He said he didn’t know of anyone looking to buy a house out here.”

“We hope they get sold before the property gets run-down,” the man said.

“Did you notice any unfamiliar vehicles in the area yesterday?” Josie asked.

Again, nothing.

Josie left her business card and asked them to call if they thought of anything, or discovered any details that might pertain to the investigation.

She walked across the front yard to a house with a similar shape but khaki in color. No cars were parked out front but she could hear a TV inside. When she reached the front porch she heard the TV noise stop. She rang the bell and a moment later a woman in her seventies, carrying a Siamese cat, answered the door. She had silver-white hair in a stylish short cut, and wore trendy black rectangular glasses and a ring on her thumb. She motioned Josie inside as she introduced herself.

“I know who you are,” the woman said. “I see you and Otto at the Hot Tamale all the time. I’m Janet Knight. Friends with Delores.”

Josie smiled and nodded. “That’s right. I thought you looked familiar.”