When You See Me (Detective D.D. Warren #11)(29)

“Are there neighbors who give them the willies, known town crazies?”

“I already pulled the names of everyone with a criminal record, ma’am. Got officers assigned to pay them a visit. ’Course, not the easiest line of questioning—what were you doing fifteen years ago? Now, we can flash around photos of Jacob Ness, but who’s gonna admit to knowing a monster like that?”

“They probably won’t. But you can ask their neighbors if they ever saw anyone matching Jacob’s description visiting the area. I’d also ask about his rig. Identifying a vehicle feels safer than getting involved with a known rapist.”

The sheriff nodded.

“Is there a town leader? Minister, mayor, who might be a good guide to the local population?”

“There’s Mayor Howard. Um, Howard Counsel. He and his wife, Martha, own the historic B and B on Main Street. One of the grand old summer homes. As close to fancy as we get around here.”

“Wraparound porch, rockers everywhere?”

The sheriff nodded. “That’s the one.”

“We should definitely pay him a visit.”

“We?”

“You and me. If he’s the mayor, he’ll want a show of respect. Two uniformed officers asking him questions will only rile him up. Two leaders from the taskforce, including the county sheriff, stopping by for a friendly chat to update him on what’s going on in his town . . .” D.D. paused.

The sheriff nodded, getting the gist of what she was saying.

“He’ll appreciate the attention,” she finished, “and of course we’ll ask him some questions while we’re at it.”

“Mayor Howard and his wife . . . their families go way back in these parts. I don’t know how open they’ll be to outsiders, but they’ll want to see this matter quickly resolved. A sensational murder case, well, it’s unseemly. Not to mention bad for business. They aren’t going to want our taskforce lingering.”

“Perfect. Are they early risers?”

The sheriff shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter,” D.D. decided. “After the excitement of yesterday, I doubt anyone is sleeping anyway. Let’s go.”

The sheriff blinked. “Right now?”

“No time like the present.”

The sheriff reached down for his hat, still looking a bit frazzled. “I’d like to change my shirt,” he said.

D.D. realized for the first time that the sheriff did appear quite wrinkled. As if he’d slept in his uniform. Poor man. “We’ll step outside. I’ll give Flora and Keith their assignment. Then all of us can get cracking.”

“We have an assignment?” Keith asked.

“Absolutely.” She ushered them out the door into the hallway.

“What?” Keith asked, as she closed the office door behind them.

In answer, D.D. studied Flora. The woman remained distant. But maybe a task would rouse her out of her fugue state.

“Right now, we’re spinning in circles. Is this Jacob’s work or not Jacob’s work? Yes, he could murder four girls. But no, he probably couldn’t handle disposal of the bodies.”

Flora nodded, still appearing a million miles away.

D.D. sharpened her tone. “We need to know once and for all if Jacob was in this town. A final, definitive, yes he was part of this.”

“I told you, I was in a box. I never saw—”

“You never saw, you never heard,” D.D. interjected curtly. “But what did you do? Come on, Flora, earn your keep. You’re not here for decoration.”

Flora’s nostrils flared. She eyed D.D. mutinously, but at least there was some fire in her eyes.

“I don’t get it,” Keith said.

D.D. kept her attention on Flora. “What did you do when you were held captive? What did you experience? Think, Flora. Nine months ago when you did the memory exercise, what did you use as triggers?”

The woman suddenly blinked. She straightened, engaged for the first time all morning. “I ate,” she said softly. “Jacob, when he returned, always brought food. Lots of takeout. Ribs, wings, burgers, pizza. The greasier the better.”

D.D. nodded approvingly. “I’ll be the first to say, this assignment pains me, if only because I wish I could do it myself. But we all have our crosses to bear. So I’ll be a good doobie and tackle the mayor, while you and Keith identify all the local restaurants that have been in business for the past ten years and then . . . eat. Order every item on the menu if you have to. You want to keep dining around until you find something that, I don’t know, tastes like a match.”

Flora stared at her.

“It’s not enough to search for establishments that have been open ten years,” Keith spoke up briskly. “We need ones where the head cook has remained the same, as well, as chefs influence the style of food prepared.”

“Sure.”

“I can Google a list of restaurants for Niche plus surrounding towns, then prepare a spreadsheet listing length of operation, hiring date of head chef, opening date for owner/operator.”

“Great.”

“I’m not sure my palate is that refined,” Flora interjected. “Or my memory that good.”

“You’re not trying to identify the secret ingredient in the special sauce, Flora. You’re just searching for a sense of déjà vu.”