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After fifteen minutes of back-and-forth, Nevada replaced her at the microphone, thanked everyone for coming, and followed Macy and Bennett back into the building. When they stepped behind the locked doors, the sound of ringing phones greeted them.
Sullivan looked up from his console. “Deputy Bennett, one of our guys found Debbie Roberson’s car.”
“Where?” she asked.
“At the entrance to the state park.”
“Are there signs of a struggle?” she asked.
“The car is unlocked, and her purse is tucked under the front seat. He popped the trunk and found red rope.” The ringing phones forced Sullivan back to his console to answer the barrage of incoming calls.
Macy stepped forward. “Ask the deputy to string crime scene tape around the car and stay with it until we arrive.”
“I’ll drive out and have a look at the car,” Bennett said. “I’ll call you as soon as I appraise the situation.”
“She worked at the Deep Run assisted living facility, correct?” Macy asked.
“Yes,” Bennett said.
“Bruce Shaw works there, so I can kill two birds with one stone and ask him about her,” Macy said.
“I’m coming with you,” Nevada said.
Nevada was a pace behind Macy as they strode through the front door of the Deep Run assisted living facility thirty minutes later. At the front desk of the new Adele Jenner Wyatt wing of the facility, he asked to speak to Dr. Bruce Shaw. After procuring a promise to page him, Nevada and Macy waited in a small conference room off the main lobby.
He caught her staring at a stack of magazines featuring articles on the latest diets, fashion, and desserts. She thumbed through one. She didn’t appear curious about the text but seemed distant and sad.
He remembered the call from Dr. Faith McIntyre, medical examiner in Austin, Texas. Faith had said that she was scrolling through contacts on Macy Crow’s phone, and he was listed under favorites. And then she had told him how badly Macy had been hurt.
He’d immediately called a contact in the Texas Rangers and learned the details of the attempt on her life, as well as the case she’d been investigating when she’d been attacked.
After closing the magazine abruptly, Macy dropped it to the table and moved to a pamphlet rack. She inspected the brochures absently, but he noted her hand trembled slightly.
“You look agitated,” he said.
She carefully replaced a pamphlet on long-term care. She faced him and with a shrug said, “I spent weeks in one of these. I worked my ass off because I knew if I didn’t, I was screwed in terms of my career and my personal life.”
“And you did a hell of a job. There’s nothing to be nervous about now.”
She ran her hand over her short hair. He was sorry he’d respected her wishes to tackle physical therapy alone. He should have been at her side. “And here you are, back in the game.”
The door opened, and a man dressed in a white lab coat entered. In his midthirties, he had short dark hair brushed off his narrow, angled face. Bruce Shaw had been the quarterback for the Dream Team, and he’d had more girls chasing him than any teenage boy could imagine. He had maintained a lean, fit body.
Nevada rose. “Dr. Shaw, thank you for seeing us.”
Shaw shook his hand. “Anything to help, Sheriff. I just caught your press conference on the television. Hell of a thing. No one ever thinks that kind of thing could happen in a town like Deep Run.”
“No, sir,” Nevada said. “I’d like to also introduce you to FBI Special Agent Macy Crow. She is working the case with my department.”
Shaw shook her hand. “Pleasure, Agent Crow.”
The three sat around a small, round conference table. Macy pulled out her yellow legal pad and flipped to a clean page. “Dr. Shaw, our visit has two purposes. The first is to ask about an employee, Debbie Roberson. Her mother hasn’t spoken to her in days, and she’s worried.”
His eyes widened, and he reached for his phone. “Let me check the schedule.” He scrolled for several seconds, frowned, and then said, “She’s supposed to be on duty.”
“Could she have switched shifts with another employee?” Macy asked.
Shaw shook his head as he typed a text. “It’s policy that she inform her manager. I’ve just asked Mrs. Bland, her supervisor, to check.”
“Has she missed work before?” Nevada asked.
“She has,” he said. “In fact, she’s on the verge of receiving a letter of reprimand for the last time she switched shifts and didn’t properly communicate it.”
Macy scribbled a note on her yellow pad. “Has anyone been giving her trouble? Have you noticed any signs of abuse or harassment directed toward her?”
“No. Debbie is young and somewhat immature. However, the patients like her, and she’s very popular with the families, which is why Mrs. Bland keeps her on. Is Debbie really in jeopardy?”
“We don’t know yet,” Nevada said. “Just covering all the bases.”
“You said you were here for two reasons,” Shaw said.
Macy looked up from her pad. Her face was relaxed, but Nevada sensed she was anything but. “Can you tell us about your sister?”
“Cindy?” He shook his head. “That’s random.”
“One of the primary reasons I’m here is to investigate the death of Tobi Turner. Several people we spoke to said Cindy was seen with Tobi close to the time she vanished.”
“How much do you know about my sister?” he asked carefully.
“That’s exactly my question for you, Doctor,” Macy said.
He rubbed the underside of a gold college ring. “We grew up under challenging circumstances. Our mother was addicted to meth and was more worried about her next hit than Cindy and me. Football was my outlet. The team became my family. Unfortunately, Cindy’s outlet was the bottle, and then she started smoking meth shortly before she vanished.”
“The people we spoke to say she ran away,” Macy said.
“She did. When I heard she’d left, I drove to the bus station and tried to talk her into staying. But she was determined to leave Deep Run. She was convinced a better life was waiting for her.”
“When was this?” Macy asked.
“Early November.”
“After Tobi vanished?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Did you ever hear from her again?” Macy asked.
“No. But I also didn’t try to find her. I was drowning at the time, too. I tried in my own way to save her, but she wouldn’t let me. In the end, I had to let her go.”
“She never contacted you once?” Macy asked.
“I received a postcard from Dallas about a year after she left. She mailed it to the trailer, and it was forwarded to me at
college. I called the number she’d written in her note, but no one answered.” He leaned back, as if distancing himself from a memory. “You’re both in law enforcement, and you must know the odds for a seventeen-year-old runaway aren’t good.”
“I’ve seen the odds beaten before,” Macy said.
“Then why wouldn’t my sister contact me?” Bruce said.
“I don’t know,” she said. Macy studied him silently. “Why would Cindy befriend a band kid, a math geek like Tobi? Seems like apples and oranges.”
“Cindy was good at working the angles. She needed money for the drugs. She was probably using the girl.”
“Did Cindy ever mention Tobi?” Macy asked.
“Not to me.”
“Did Cindy go to the bonfires?” Nevada asked.
“Yes. She loved being around the team,” Bruce said. “The football team adopted me, and I guess she hoped they would adopt her as a mascot.”
“Did they?” Macy asked.
He dropped his gaze, plucking a thread from his pant leg. “Not really.”
Macy tapped her index finger against her notebook. Nevada had seen that look before. The wheels were turning, which they would do constantly until she cracked this case.
“Thank you for your time,” Macy said as she handed him a card. “If you think of anything, no matter how inconsequential, call me.”
Bruce locked gazes with Macy. “You said you’ve seen the odds beaten before. Do you think my sister is still alive?”
“Do you?”
“I hope so.” Bruce looked sincere, but that didn’t mean much. Nevada had seen stone-cold killers convince a judge and jury of their innocence.
“Call the number after you’ve given our conversation some thought.”
Macy shifted in her seat, ignoring the discomfort in her leg as Nevada drove by Debbie Roberson’s house. It was a small one-story brick structure that backed up to woods. “Just the kind of place our boy likes,” she said.
Nevada parked and the two got out. She walked up to the mailbox and opened the door, finding a couple of days’ worth of mail inside. They followed a gravel path to the front door.
She rang the bell, and both waited for a sign that someone was inside. There was nothing.
