Clint Wolf Series Boxed Set 3 Read online

  Once I was sure the bedroom was empty, I entered the kitchen, crossed it to the living room, and made my way to the front door. I was just reaching for the knob when a desktop monitor resting on a flimsy dinner tray caught my eye. It was in front of a brown recliner and the tower was on the floor next to the tray. The back of the computer was facing me, but I could see a bluish glow emitting from the screen.

  After unlocking the door, I stepped toward the computer.

  “That took long enough,” Amy said as she pushed her way inside. “I thought you were a goner. I was about to kick the door open.”

  I didn’t say anything as I approached the recliner and computer. A partially eaten candy bar was on the floor, and it looked fresh. Melvin had definitely interrupted something. My curiosity mounting, I stepped around the dinner tray and looked at the computer. I immediately regretted it. The images on the screen turned my stomach and caused my blood to boil. I jerked my head away.

  “What is it?” Amy asked, recognizing that something was terribly wrong.

  I walked away from the recliner and approached the door. I wanted to get my hands around Francis’ neck and snap it like a twig, but I couldn’t, so I simply tried not to vomit while Amy walked to the computer.

  I heard her gasp. After a long moment, she appeared beside me and stared out at the mess on the highway. “I know I’ll sound like a bitch saying this out loud,” she said, “but I’m glad that bastard’s dead.”

  I nodded slowly. “Me, too.”

  CHAPTER 13

  9:30 a.m.

  4923 Old Blackbird Highway, Mechant Loup, Louisiana

  26 hours missing…

  Chief Susan Wilson Wolf looked up from the laptop she’d been searching and sighed. Rose’s mother, who was sitting on the edge of the chair across the table from her, asked if she’d found anything useful.

  “The good news is your daughter’s clean. Her social media activity is what I’d expect from any good sixteen-year-old,” Susan said. “She hasn’t visited any questionable websites and hasn’t communicated with any shady characters. It appears she only interacts with those who are in her close circle of friends, and we’ve already interviewed all of them.”

  “That’s it?” Laura’s voice was shrill. “You’ve got nothing?”

  Susan had spoken with Clint earlier and she was aware of the information Seth had provided about the boyfriend, Michael. However, upon Clint’s advice—and for Seth’s protection—they had agreed to withhold that information from Laura Murdock. They did plan on telling Laura about the boyfriend eventually, but they were waiting for a more opportune time—and now wasn’t the time.

  “We do have some leads we’re following up on, but, to be perfectly honest, they don’t seem very promising.”

  “What about the fatality wreck up the road?” Laura asked. “Does that have anything to do with Rose?”

  Susan refrained from chewing on her lower lip, because she knew that would be a dead giveaway that something was amiss. While child pornography had been located inside Francis Fitch’s residence and a forensics team was en route from La Mort Police Department to go over every inch of the place, they weren’t sure if he was involved in Rose’s disappearance.

  “We did search the house, but there was no sign of Rose and no evidence that she was ever there.”

  It was Laura’s turn to sigh. “That’s good, because we all know Francis is no good. He’s a pervert and there’s no telling what he’s capable of. If he had taken Rose…” Laura allowed her voice to trail off and she shuddered. “I don’t even want to go there in my head.”

  Susan leaned forward and touched Laura’s arm. “We won’t stop searching until we find her—that I promise you.”

  Laura smiled, but it was hollow. The woman was petrified, and it showed on her face. Susan’s hand dropped to her belly. She hadn’t even met her child and she already loved her or him. While she genuinely felt bad for Laura, she had no idea what the woman was going through, just like she had no idea how much Clint hurt over Abigail.

  “Ma’am, I have to step outside to make a call,” Susan said after the two women had sat in silence for a long moment. “I’ll be right back.”

  Once Susan was on the front concrete porch and the door had closed behind her, she called Takecia Gayle—one of her patrol officers who worked the day shift—and asked, “Did you find the boyfriend yet?”

  “No,” Takecia said in her thick Jamaican accent. “He’s still not home.”

  Susan scowled and leaned back against the door. Clint had located Michael Odom’s house late last night, but no one had been home. A neighbor told Clint that Michael lived alone with his dad, but that the dad was working overseas. A phone call to Michael’s mom in Mississippi turned up nothing, and Clint had also checked with a manager from Walmart who said Michael was not due back to work until Monday night. The manager did provide Michael’s cell phone number, and it matched the number that was listed on Rose’s phone bill as the last person to have made contact with her. Clint had made a decision to try Michael’s phone last night, but it was either dead, turned off, or in a dead zone, because it went straight to voicemail.

  “What should I do, boss?” Takecia asked. “Do you want me to stay in the neighborhood in case the boy comes home?”

  “No, you can head back over here. I need some help organizing search parties.” When she ended the call with Takecia, Susan called Clint. He sounded tired when he answered. “How are things at the Francis homestead?”

  “There’re good,” he said. “The crime scene technicians from La Mort are here. They’re going through the house looking for fibers, prints, and DNA. Once they’re done, they’re going to spray the house with Luminol in case someone was killed here and then the scene cleaned up.”

  “Did you ever find Francis’ mother?”

  “Yeah, the little prick put her in a nursing home. I spoke with her briefly, but she has no clue what’s been going on at the house since she’s been at the home.”

  Susan heard someone hollering for Clint in the background, and she asked if he needed to go.

  “No, you can stay on the line.”

  Susan waited quietly during Clint’s exchange with the other person. It was a female’s voice and Susan wondered if it was Jennifer Duval. Susan had heard about Jennifer from Clint, but she’d only met the detective once. As the story went, Clint and Jennifer had worked as partners in La Mort before hooking up during a Christmas holiday some years ago. It was before Clint had married his first wife, Michele, and he had described the ordeal as a ‘fling.’ He said they quit being partners after that, and he had experienced some problems with Jennifer.

  “Okay, I’m back,” Clint said when the conversation ended.

  “Was that her?” As soon as the words left her mouth, Susan slapped her forehead, wishing she could take them back. While she had never been the jealous type, she was certainly no fool. People cheated, and who was she to think it could never happen to her? After all, it had happened to her mom, and Susan had always thought her dad would never do something like that.

  “You don’t have to answer that,” she said quickly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “No, you have every right to know.” Clint paused, then said it was Jennifer. “I didn’t know who they were sending, but they ended up sending her and her partner along with the lab techs.”

  Susan’s heart sank a little. She glanced down at the front of her shirt. Her belly was extremely noticeable now and her legs weren’t as toned as they used to be. Although Clint was always telling her how beautiful she was, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was just being nice. She’d had friends whose husbands lost interest in them when they had gotten pregnant and began to show. Those men were shallow, that’s for sure, and Clint was nothing like them, but she still felt a little insecure.

  “It’s no big deal,” Susan said. “I was only asking because I was curious if I’d get to meet her again.” Susan had met Jennifer about ni
ne months ago, and it had been a little awkward. For starters, Jennifer was blonde and beautiful and her uniform fit her like a glove. And then she had referred to Clint as her ‘ex-boyfriend’ and had commented about him working in a ‘dead-end hellhole’ and saying that she hoped he would come to his senses and go back to La Mort. Susan hadn’t told Clint about their conversation, but it had definitely stuck with her. And now, it was making her feel a little threatened.

  “Well, Sue, did she?”

  “What’s that?” Susan asked. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t hear what you said. A vehicle must’ve passed.”

  “Did Takecia find Michael Odom?”

  “No, he’s still not home.”

  “Damn, where could that kid be?”

  “Beats me.”

  After being thoughtful for a moment, Clint said he was heading to Walmart to speak with some of Michael’s work associates.

  Good, Susan thought. At least you won’t be hanging out with Jennifer Duval.

  Instead of saying what she was really thinking, Susan asked Clint if he thought it was possible that Michael and Rose ran off together.

  “At this point, I’m starting to hope so,” he said quietly, “because the alternative is ugly.”

  CHAPTER 14

  It was almost ten-thirty when I was finally sitting in a manager’s office talking to one of Michael’s friends from work. His name was Wayne. A short and stocky fellow, he sported a flattop hair style that made him look even shorter and stockier. Other than Howie Long, he was the only person in modern time that I’d seen with a flattop. I wanted to ask if I could rest my notepad on the top of his hair, but I resisted the urge.

  “I’m Clint Wolf, a detective for Mechant Loup.” I shot a thumb toward the door. “The manager tells me you’re Michael’s best friend here at work.”

  The kid seemed suspicious. “Yeah, I guess. What’s this about?”

  “Have you seen him lately? Like yesterday or today?”

  “No.”

  “Have you spoken with him yesterday or today?”

  “No.”

  “Is that unusual?”

  “I mean, it’s not like we’re dating, you know?” The kid chuckled at his own joke, but his smile faded when he saw I wasn’t laughing. “We don’t talk every day. When we’re not working, he might call me every now and then or I might call him, but it’s not too often. Maybe once or twice a week.”

  “When’s the last time you heard from him?”

  “Is this about the games?” Wayne glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one else could hear us. “I told him not to do it and I told him I wouldn’t cover for him. I need my job. I still live with my mom and dad, but I have to pay my own car note, gas, and insurance. If I get fired, I don’t know what I’d do.”

  “Tell me about the games.”

  “Well, it was a few weeks ago. We were closing up and I saw him shove a copy of Red Dead Redemption in his pants. I told him not to do it and that I would report him, but he said I’d better not say anything or else he would…” Wayne lowered his eyes, let his voice trail off.

  “He would what?”

  “He said he would tell my girlfriend that I kissed the manager.”

  I turned and looked through the glass partition in the door toward the elderly manager who stood waiting for us to finish. “You kissed him?”

  “No!” Wayne shook his head violently from side to side. “I kissed Cynthia, the store manager. Well, it was more like she kissed me.”

  I remembered seeing a blonde woman at the front of the store when I entered. She was wearing a manager’s nametag. She appeared to be in her early thirties and she was attractive—and she was a manager. The kid could do worse. “Damn, you hit the jackpot, didn’t you?”

  “Hell, no! She’s old. I’m embarrassed it happened. If everyone finds out, my reputation will be ruined.” His face betrayed the distress he was experiencing. “Please, you can’t tell anyone. I’ll do whatever you need me to do. I’ll give a statement about the games. I’ll even help get them back—”

  “It’s okay, son.” I held up a hand to stop him. “First off, thirty isn’t old—and don’t ever let Cynthia hear you say that. Next, this is not about the games, but it does give me some insight into what kind of person Michael is. No, what I really need to know is when it was that you last heard from him.”

  “I…I’m not sure. I could check my phone, if you like.”

  “Please.”

  My own phone buzzed in my pocket to indicate I’d received a text message. I pulled it out and read the message. It was from Mallory Tuttle, who had been helping Susan with the search, and she told me to call her as soon as I could. She said it was urgent. Just as I put my phone to my ear, Wayne looked up and said the last message he’d received from Michael was on the previous Saturday.

  “He wanted to know if I wanted to go to Orange Beach this coming weekend, but I told him I had to work. I try not to hang around with him as much anymore, ever since he took the game.”

  I nodded and put up a finger to let him know I’d be right back.

  “Hey, Mallory, it’s me,” I said when I’d stepped right outside the office so I could speak privately. “What’s going on?”

  “Remember Lou Baker, the rookie detective you met on the Boudreaux case?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, he just spotted Michael’s white Ford pickup truck at the boat launch in the back of the Cool Ridge Community. There’s an empty boat trailer behind the truck, so it’s possible he and Rose are on the water. They could be fishing or at a camp or something.”

  “Did Lou run the plate to confirm it’s his truck?”

  “No, he can’t read the plate from his vantage point and he didn’t want to get too close in case they returned, but he’s positive it’s the right truck.”

  Before she could finish, I asked what made Lou positive it was Michael’s truck.

  “The door on the passenger’s side is green.”

  “That’s it!” I hurried toward the front of the store. “Tell him to stay put. I’m on my way.”

  “Hey, Detective, do you still need to speak with Wayne?” hollered the manager from behind me.

  I waved him off and told him I’d be in touch with the kid if I needed more information, but I doubted he heard me, as I was already halfway to the exit.

  Since Walmart and the Cool Ridge Community were both located in Central Chateau, I didn’t have far to travel. I called Susan as I drove out of the parking lot and told her where I was heading. She asked if I’d heard anything more from Jennifer Duval, but I told her I hadn’t. I was starting to suspect that Jennifer’s presence was making her uncomfortable, and I didn’t like it one bit. Had I known they would send Jennifer, I would’ve requested someone else or asked the state police crime lab to send a team.

  “Do you mind coordinating with Jennifer?” I asked, thinking that might make things easier for both of us. “After all, I’ll be running around trying to track down this Michael kid, so I won’t have time to debrief her.”

  “Sure,” Susan said in a hesitant voice, “but I think she’d rather speak to you.”

  “It’s our case,” I said plainly. “She doesn’t get to call the shots. If she doesn’t like it, she can head back to La Mort.”

  “If you say so, detective man.” Susan’s voice was playful. “Now, just be careful out there. I don’t need to remind you how important you are to me and our baby.”

  “No, you don’t, but I do love hearing it.”

  CHAPTER 15

  12:30 p.m.

  Cool Ridge Public Boat Launch

  29 hours missing…

  I glanced over as Lou Baker wiped a bead of sweat from his dark forehead. He and I had been crouched behind a giant oak tree for about two hours, waiting for Michael Odom to return to his truck—if he ever would.

  “You know,” Lou said, “I hate the winter time, but I can’t believe we’re out here sweating in January. It just doesn’t seem right.”<
br />
  I smashed a mosquito that had landed on my arm. “I know what you mean. When I was a kid, there were winters where I would wear shorts and T-shirts every day and—”

  The humming of a boat engine cut my sentence short. Lou and I both rose higher on our knees and peered around opposite sides of the oak tree. Since Michael’s truck was the only one parked at the boat launch, we knew it had to be him approaching. After all, most adults were at work and couldn’t just leave to go fishing in the middle of a random work day.

  “That looks like him,” Lou muttered. “And he’s got a girl with him.”

  I sighed deeply when I saw the girl’s long hair flowing in the wind. I couldn’t see her face clearly because she wore oversized heart-shaped sunglasses, and she looked a little thinner than Rose’s picture, but she had the same bronze complexion and thick brown hair. It had to be her.

  “What’s the plan, Chief?” Lou asked in a hushed tone. “Do we confront them now or wait until they dock the boat?”

  “We’ll wait until Michael is pulling the boat onto the trailer. If we reveal ourselves too early, they might haul ass in the boat. If we jump out too late, they can leave in the truck and we’ll have a high speed chase on our hands.”

  Lou nodded and we sat quietly, watching Michael maneuver the side of the boat up against the wooden dock. He shut off the engine and then tied the bow line to a cleat that was attached to one of the creosote poles. Once it was secured, he leapt gracefully from the boat and leaned over to take the girl’s hand. She smiled wide as he helped her onto the dock, and they stopped for a moment to make out.

  When they pulled apart, Michael slapped the girl’s bottom and she laughed hysterically. We could hear the laughter from our vantage point, but couldn’t hear everything that was being said between them.