Her Last Goodbye (Morgan Dane #2)(6)

“No.” Tim’s face tightened with frustration.

“Why is the county sheriff handling the case and not the Scarlet Falls PD?” Sharp asked.

“I called 911 from Grey’s Hollow,” Tim explained. “The sheriff’s department responded.”

Grey’s Hollow didn’t have a police force. Crimes in that section of the county were investigated by the sheriff’s office. Typically, once a department had a case, they kept it.

Tim continued. “Sheriff King says there’s no sign of foul play, and it isn’t against the law for an adult to leave home. That’s why I came to you.”

Lance shifted his position. “Has the sheriff’s department looked at her phone and computer?”

“Yes,” Tim answered. “They have both her laptop and phone. But I already looked at both devices and found nothing. I doubt the sheriff’s office has anyone more qualified than me.” Arrogance laced Tim’s tone.

“They have a protocol to follow,” Morgan said.

Tim wasn’t giving the county forensics techs enough credit. They were highly qualified.

“What exactly do you do, Tim?” Lance asked.

“I’m a wireless telecommunication engineer,” Tim said. “My employer, Speed Net, is working with the university on research to develop the next generation Wi-Fi.”

Maybe Tim had a reason to be a little arrogant about his tech skills.

“Must be interesting to work on the cutting edge,” Sharp said.

Tim shrugged. “It is. It’s also demanding.”

“We’ll need your employer’s contact information,” Lance said. “And we’ll want to interview your boss and coworkers.”

“All the information is in here.” Tim slid a file from his diaper bag and set it on the desk.

“I doubt the sheriff will give you her electronics back just yet,” Sharp said. “That’s too bad. I know you’re a computer expert, but we’d still like to look at your wife’s digital history. I’m sure you’re great with computers, but we know what to look for.”

“I’m willing to try anything,” Tim said. “Chelsea’s laptop and phone both backup to a cloud account every twenty-four hours. I can access everything that was on her computer from mine.”

“Perfect. Do you know what kind of initial physical search the sheriff conducted of the area where you found your wife’s car?” Lance asked.

Tim sniffed and reeled in his emotions. “The police searched the neighborhood. They drove along all the roads for a few miles in each direction. They put out some sort of alert to other police departments. They brought in a dog.”

Sharp rubbed his buzz cut with a palm. “The dog didn’t pick up anything?”

Tim shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Do you know what the sheriff is doing now?” Sharp asked.

Tim shook his head. “He doesn’t tell me much.”

“We’ll contact the sheriff and get an update,” Morgan assured him. “Do you know if the sheriff’s department interviewed any of your neighbors?”

“He did,” Tim said. “A few people dropped by to let me know.”

There were up to ninety thousand active missing persons cases in the United States at any given time, but missing adults often took a back seat to missing kids, homicides, robberies, and assaults. Without clear evidence of foul play, it was unlikely Chelsea’s case would take priority.

“Did you check your credit card statements for a train ticket?” she asked. Chelsea’s car had been parked so close to the train station.

“Yes. The last charge on her credit card was at the grocery store last Thursday,” Tim continued. “The police looked at the surveillance tapes from the train station. They said no one who looked like Chelsea got on the train that night. She never carried much cash. If Chelsea wanted to take the train, she would have bought the ticket online. That’s what we usually do.”

Unless she didn’t want anyone to know where she was going.

But Morgan didn’t say it. There wasn’t enough evidence to make assumptions. The sheriff’s office had made the usual ones, and that by-the-book approach hadn’t found Chelsea. It was time for some fresh blood—and brains—on the case. She didn’t want Tim to have to live in limbo for the next twenty years.

Morgan glanced at Lance. His face was a tight mask, but emotion clouded the blue of his eyes. Since his father had gone missing many years ago and had never been found, this case would bring up unpleasant memories for him.

Tim tapped the file on the desk. “I brought copies of everything the police asked for: phone records, a list of her family and friends, our employers, bank and credit card statements, social media account information. I copied everything I gave to the police.”

The baby began to fuss, starting with bleating cries that quickly escalated to wails.

“I’m sorry.” Tim removed a bottle from the diaper bag, unstrapped the infant, and picked him up. He offered the baby the bottle. “But I’m at least grateful that he’s decided bottles are OK. The first two days Chelsea was gone were a nightmare. I thought he was going to starve.”

The baby drank in greedy gulps. Tim sat back, and Morgan’s heart squeezed.