All the Dark Places(36)
“The boyfriend?”
“We’ve had him in here half a dozen times. Says he didn’t see her. Passed a polygraph. We’ve got nothing to connect him to her disappearance. And no leads. It’s like that girl just vanished.”
“This was last July Fourth?”
“Yes.”
“Busy up there in the mountains during that time?”
“It sure is.”
“What about the necklace?”
He draws a deep breath. “It matches the description her mom gave us.”
“Could be our vic happened to find it and picked it up.”
“Maybe. What’s his name?”
“Dr. Jay Bradley. You know him?”
“Yup.” The sheriff clears his throat. “The Bradleys have owned a big place up here for years. So he’s dead? Victim of a homicide?”
“That’s right.”
“Jesus. We’ll need to get together on this, looks like.”
“Yes.” I make some notes, and the sheriff and I make tentative plans. I hang up, lean back in my chair, and let go a deep breath.
*
It’s nearly six o’clock, and I’m starting to get hungry, so I switch off my desk lamp and scrape my notes together to stuff into my satchel. I think about my dinner options. My fridge is empty, as usual, and André and Collin are downtown catering a conference, so I poke my head in at Bob’s door.
“You want to grab a bite across the street?”
He looks up from the mess on his desk. “Sounds good.”
Mac’s is a little place, a bar really, but the food isn’t bad in a pinch. It isn’t busy tonight, not even any cops hanging out having a cold one after their shifts. Mac himself, the big wide-shouldered owner, who played a couple of seasons for the Patriots a million years ago, is pouring drinks. All his former muscle has morphed into fat, and his belly strains his knit shirt.
He leans on his hands, takes a raspy breath. “Bob, Rita.” He nods. “How’s it going?”
“Just dandy, Mac. You?” I ask.
“Couldn’t be better.” He grins. “Angela’s pregnant. Did I tell ya that?” About ten times. His daughter, his only child, beams from a framed photo hanging behind the bar. “Gonna be a grandpa this summer.”
“Congrats,” Bob says. “Nothing like grandkids.”
Mac nods again and rubs his hands together. “Yous in for a drink or a meal?”
“I could do with both,” I say. “Should we seat ourselves?”
“Yeah. Anywhere you want. As you can see, the place is packed,” he says sarcastically, but with a smile.
The chief and I sit in a dark booth in the back. Mac’s a great guy, but he’ll talk your ear off if he’s not busy, and Bob and I’ve got business to talk about.
I fill him in on everything Lauren and I have discovered. He takes a long pull on his bottle of Bud Light. “Jesus, Rita. You think Dr. Bradley was involved in that girl’s disappearance?”
I shrug. “Who knows? But there’s some reason he had her necklace locked in his filing cabinet. The most innocent reason is that he found it while out on a walk in the mountains, picked it up, and decided to keep it, but that’s a stretch. Why hide it?”
Bob dips a tortilla chip in a bowl of chunky salsa. “You think that’s what the perp was after when he came back?”
“Maybe.” I sip my wine. “Worst case, as I can figure it, Dr. Bradley and another man were involved in Ms. Robb’s disappearance. The killer was worried that the good doctor was growing a conscience and going to turn them in, and so he killed him. The necklace was what tied them to the crime, so the perp wanted it.”
Bob nods. “Could be. You find anything in the doc’s background that might predispose him to criminal activity?”
“Nothing official. When we ran him, he didn’t even have a speeding ticket in the last ten years.” Our server slides steaming plates in front of us, bubbling fajitas for Bob, a cheeseburger and fries for me. “His partner at the therapy practice said he’s a good guy. Squeaky clean. And she seems to know him about as well as anybody.”
“But we both know what that’s worth. Some of those twisted guys go years before a whiff of anything sinister comes to light.”
I nod and recall various training sessions over the years and the serial killers we’d learned about who managed to blend into society for years before their dark sides were discovered. And I’ve seen enough of human nature to know firsthand that people aren’t always what they seem. Evil lurks, as the saying goes, sometimes in the most unexpected places.
“Yeah. I know. Chase and I are going to bring the wife back in and see if we can get anything more out of her.”
CHAPTER 24
Rita
MONDAY MORNING, CHASE AND I SIT AT THE LITTLE TABLE ACROSS from Mrs. Bradley and her new dog. Emotional support animal, she says. Doesn’t matter to me. I like dogs, and this one seems content enough to sit quietly while we talk. Chase jumps up and turns up the heat, offers Mrs. Bradley tea, but she says she’s okay.
“I’ve never seen that necklace before, Detective,” she says. She looks frazzled, dark red hair tied back in a lumpy ponytail, purple circles under her eyes. “Is this why you wanted to talk to me?”