Hide and Seek (Criminal Profiler #1)(44)

“Cindy?” He shook his head. “That’s random.”

“One of the primary reasons I’m here is to investigate the death of Tobi Turner. Several people we spoke to said Cindy was seen with Tobi close to the time she vanished.”

“How much do you know about my sister?” he asked carefully.

“That’s exactly my question for you, Doctor,” Macy said.

He rubbed the underside of a gold college ring. “We grew up under challenging circumstances. Our mother was addicted to meth and was more worried about her next hit than Cindy and me. Football was my outlet. The team became my family. Unfortunately, Cindy’s outlet was the bottle, and then she started smoking meth shortly before she vanished.”

“The people we spoke to say she ran away,” Macy said.

“She did. When I heard she’d left, I drove to the bus station and tried to talk her into staying. But she was determined to leave Deep Run. She was convinced a better life was waiting for her.”

“When was this?” Macy asked.

“Early November.”

“After Tobi vanished?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Did you ever hear from her again?” Macy asked.

“No. But I also didn’t try to find her. I was drowning at the time, too. I tried in my own way to save her, but she wouldn’t let me. In the end, I had to let her go.”

“She never contacted you once?” Macy asked.

“I received a postcard from Dallas about a year after she left. She mailed it to the trailer, and it was forwarded to me at college. I called the number she’d written in her note, but no one answered.” He leaned back, as if distancing himself from a memory. “You’re both in law enforcement, and you must know the odds for a seventeen-year-old runaway aren’t good.”

“I’ve seen the odds beaten before,” Macy said.

“Then why wouldn’t my sister contact me?” Bruce said.

“I don’t know,” she said. Macy studied him silently. “Why would Cindy befriend a band kid, a math geek like Tobi? Seems like apples and oranges.”

“Cindy was good at working the angles. She needed money for the drugs. She was probably using the girl.”

“Did Cindy ever mention Tobi?” Macy asked.

“Not to me.”

“Did Cindy go to the bonfires?” Nevada asked.

“Yes. She loved being around the team,” Bruce said. “The football team adopted me, and I guess she hoped they would adopt her as a mascot.”

“Did they?” Macy asked.

He dropped his gaze, plucking a thread from his pant leg. “Not really.”

Macy tapped her index finger against her notebook. Nevada had seen that look before. The wheels were turning, which they would do constantly until she cracked this case.

“Thank you for your time,” Macy said as she handed him a card. “If you think of anything, no matter how inconsequential, call me.”

Bruce locked gazes with Macy. “You said you’ve seen the odds beaten before. Do you think my sister is still alive?”

“Do you?”

“I hope so.” Bruce looked sincere, but that didn’t mean much. Nevada had seen stone-cold killers convince a judge and jury of their innocence.

“Call the number after you’ve given our conversation some thought.”



Macy shifted in her seat, ignoring the discomfort in her leg as Nevada drove by Debbie Roberson’s house. It was a small one-story brick structure that backed up to woods. “Just the kind of place our boy likes,” she said.

Nevada parked and the two got out. She walked up to the mailbox and opened the door, finding a couple of days’ worth of mail inside. They followed a gravel path to the front door.

She rang the bell, and both waited for a sign that someone was inside. There was nothing.

“Have a look around back?” he asked.

“I also want to look in the bedrooms by the side windows.”

“Sure.”

Around the side of the house, she pushed through a tall thicket of shrubs to a window. She studied the ground but saw no signs of a footprint. Still careful not to step directly in front of the window, she rose up on tiptoes and peered into the window.

“It’s a bedroom.” The bed was unmade, and there was a collection of clothes on the floor. It was messy, but there didn’t appear to be any signs of trouble. It could have been her room after several days of working a case.

They walked around the back toward a small patio. Nevada went first, watching the path closely as they approached the brick deck. He held up his fist, indicating for her to stop.

“What is it?” she asked.

He squatted and studied the imprint of an athletic shoe. “Looks to be about a size ten to twelve.”

Macy stepped around him and tried the back door. “It’s locked.” She peered through the window to see a chrome dinette set covered with craft supplies, including paints, a glue gun, and sparkles. “No signs of trouble. Debbie could have blown off work and gone on a trip.”

“I’ve got basic forensic equipment in the car. I can make a plaster cast of the shoe impression. It might be overkill, but better safe than sorry, especially if the weather turns bad.”