Stone Cold Heart (Tracers #13)(68)

She looked down and shook her head. “Let me see. Last November? December? Seems like it was before the holidays. Come on in, I’ll check.” She started toward the shed, and the dog’s barks grew frantic.

“?’Scuse the mess,” she said, ushering Nolan inside. “I’m making my mud pies, as Todd liked to call them. Keeps me busy.”

Nolan had to duck his head to get through the door. The shed turned out to be a workroom with a potter’s wheel at the center. Shelves filled with unfinished creations lined the walls—bowls, mugs, vases. Elaine crossed the room to a table overflowing with tools and paperwork. She picked up a bright blue mug and shuffled through some papers beneath it. “Let’s see . . . I know it was before Christmas.”

Nolan’s phone vibrated with a text, and he pulled it from his pocket to check the screen. It was Crowley.

“I think it’s inside. Sorry.” She brushed past him, leading him back into the yard. “This isn’t about the Baird case, is it?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, you’re our best officer, so I figure that’s your case, isn’t it? Unless this is about those bones they found in the park last weekend.”

She mounted the porch steps, and Nolan followed her, keeping an eye on the dog.

“It’s a case out of San Antonio, actually. We’re following up on something.”

“Lucy, sit!”

The dog sat, to Nolan’s surprise. She watched from her spot by the door as Elaine led Nolan into the den, where a rolltop desk covered in paperwork sat in the corner. She started combing through stacks as Nolan glanced around. The space was small and cluttered, with sagging furniture and towers of books everywhere.

“You really have to feel for the Bairds.”

“What’s that?” Nolan looked at her.

“Sam and Kathy? Kaylin’s parents?” She shook her head. “Of course, Sam drinks too much. And he was always hard on those kids, but can you blame him? What would you do if your daughter started taking up with those druggies?”

“You’re talking about Kaylin’s friends?”

“Those kids are bad news. Especially her boyfriend, the Sharp boy.”

“Kaylin’s boyfriend?”

“Yes, what’s his name, Tristan?” She stopped rummaging. “I once saw him and Kaylin buying drugs at the movie theater. Right there in the parking lot in broad daylight, bold as you please.” She shook her head and resumed her search. “I swear, that boy’s got a lot of nerve.”

Nolan watched her comb through her desk, wondering if she had firsthand information or gossip.

Another text message, and Nolan took out his phone. Crowley again, and Nolan swiped the screen to read it: CALL ME ASAP.

“Well, I must have misplaced it, but it was right before Christmas. I know that for sure. And the church has a record of it. I can give them a call.”

“I’ll handle it,” Nolan said, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Who’d you talk to over there?”

“Reverend Cook. He was in the office when I brought in the title, signed the receipt himself.”

“I’ll talk to him.” Nolan took out a business card. “Meantime, if you find it or remember the date of the transaction—”

“I’ll give you a call.”

“Appreciate it.”

She ushered him out, and the barking started up as soon as he stepped through the door. Nolan dialed Crowley as he walked to his car.

“I got your message,” Nolan said. “What’s up?”

“Talia asked me to call you.”

He slid behind the wheel. “Why didn’t she call me?”

“She’s got her hands full with something. You know that vehicle you’re looking for? The white Tahoe?”

“What about it?”

“She found it.”

? ? ?

Nolan tracked Talia down at her parents’ place, where the gravel driveway was choked with cars and pickups. Following several people’s lead, he found an empty patch of lawn and parked at an angle so he wouldn’t get blocked in.

Nolan peeled off his shades as he got out. Someone had set up a slip-and-slide in the front yard, and he recognized several of Talia’s nieces and nephews. One of the little girls gave him an excited wave before taking a running leap onto the plastic.

The air smelled of barbecue, and through the screen door Nolan heard a baseball game playing. He stepped inside, and people yelled and jumped to their feet as someone hit a homer.

“Nolan!” Talia’s mother walked up to him. “So glad you could come. She’s in back.” She wiped her hands on a dish towel and shooed him toward the kitchen. “Go right through.”

“Thank you.”

Nolan made his way through the kitchen, nodding and greeting Talia’s sisters as he went. Every bit of stove space and counter space was occupied with food, and a big white sheet cake sat in the center of the kitchen table.

Nolan stepped onto the enclosed back porch as Talia came inside.

“Hey! Finally.” She held up a beer bottle. “Want one?”

“I’m good.”

“Crowley caught you.” She held the back door open as a dark-haired man stepped inside holding a tray of barbecued ribs. “Nolan, you remember my dad?”