Susannah's Garden (Blossom Street #3)(73)

“I’ll get my purse.” Susannah returned to the house, double-checked every window and door, then met Carolyn at the curb where her friend had parked.

Carolyn offered to drive, and Susannah was thankful. Because she was exhausted and in no mood to talk, she closed her eyes, unable to stop thinking about Chrissie. As soon as Susannah had calmed down last night and the police had left, Chrissie had announced that she was dropping out of college and moving to Colville.

Susannah was aghast. Her first thought had been to send Chrissie back to Seattle. She’d immediately realized that wouldn’t work. Chrissie had managed to get to Colville on her own before, and she would again. She claimed she was moving here to be close to her grandmother, but Susannah figured that being close to Troy had more to do with it. The situation had to be handled delicately and she wasn’t sure she was the best one to deal with it, considering the arguments she’d already had with Chrissie about that jerk.

Susannah felt Carolyn’s gaze on her a few times, but neither spoke until they reached the outskirts of Spokane, when Carolyn needed directions to the detective’s address.

Parked outside Shirl Remington’s place, Susannah found that her palms were sweaty. She wasn’t sure what she’d learn or if this was information she really wanted to hear. Enough of her illusions had been destroyed.

The front door was unlocked. Susannah and Carolyn rang the bell once, then, opening the screen door, they stepped inside. Shirl Remington was walking toward them. This time she wore her hair in a high ponytail.

Susannah introduced Carolyn, and the investigator shook her hand.

“Come in, please.” She motioned toward the French doors that led to her office.

While Susannah and Carolyn settled in the two guest chairs, Shirl went to her desk. “Thank you for coming this afternoon,” she said as she pulled the top file from her tray.

Susannah slid closer to the edge of her chair. The oddest sensation came over her—guilt and anxiety, dread and fear all at once.

Shirl opened the file folder, then leaned forward, hands clasped on her desk. All her actions seemed to be in slow motion. “I’ve done an exhaustive search,” she said, meeting Susannah’s eyes. “As far as I can determine, there is no record of Jake Presley beyond his life in Colville. There’s no activity on his social security number. Nor has he filed income tax.”

Carolyn frowned at Susannah.

“There’s also no record of his ever having been incarcerated.”

“Could he have gone out of the country?”

“Possibly Canada. No passport has been issued to Jake Presley. I did learn that he’s got an outstanding drug trafficking charge against him. That’s the reason I searched for him in Canada. But if he did move up there, it wasn’t under the name Jake Presley.”

“Drug trafficking?” she whispered. So Sharon had told the truth about that. Then perhaps everything else she’d said was also true. It made Susannah heartsick.

“What about the statute of limitations?” Carolyn asked when Susannah remained silent. “That crime took place years ago.”

Shirl shook her head, the ponytail swinging as she did. “With federal crimes there is no statute of limitations.”

“Oh.”

“My guess is that he got into some kind of trouble with the law and fled into Canada, where he created a new name and a new life. Like I said earlier, I’ve put out some inquiries with a couple of associates, but it might take a while.”

Susannah felt as if she were in a trance. This also explained why Jake was in and out of Sharon’s life. Every time he entered the United States, he was putting his freedom at risk.

Carolyn looked directly at the P.I. “Susannah and I went to see an old schoolfriend of ours and Jake’s. A woman called Sharon Nance. She claimed two things—that Jake’s visited her in Colville, and that Susannah’s brother, Doug Leary, might’ve been involved with him and…and the drug trafficking.”

Shirl made a note in the file. “Let me find out what I can about all of that.” She straightened and leaned back in the chair. “Did you learn anything else I should know?”

“Susannah interrupted an intruder in the house last night,” Carolyn told her.

Susannah shrugged that off. “I don’t think it’s connected.”

“At this point, everything that happens is suspicious,” the P.I. said, writing that down, too. “Was anything taken?”

“A journal and some other papers. A clock and a pen. Of limited value to anyone other than family. Besides that…”

“What else?”

“Well, I’m staying in my mother’s home,” she explained, “and I had several boxes packed up, waiting to be moved. Without going through each one, it’s almost impossible to tell.” Everything in those boxes was of sentimental value. There was nothing of real monetary worth, but the intruder wouldn’t know that.

“Has there been anything else out of the ordinary?” Shirl asked.

Nothing had been ordinary since the day Susannah had come to Colville. “I’ve had an intruder on at least three other occasions. Again, the only things taken were personal—some old track ribbons of my brother’s, for instance.” She paused. “I told you about finding that signed contract between Jake’s father and mine in Dad’s files. That was what prompted me to hire you.”