Page 62 of Bring Them Home

Amanda stood there for a second or two, stunned.

“Not the reception I expected,” Trent said.

“Me neither.” Was the woman covering up for her son and former daughter-in-law, or naive to think her flesh and blood could do no wrong? Amanda thought again of the barn. Were the Archers in there? Janet wouldn’t likely know anything about it if that was the case. She didn’t see the older woman taking a trip out back, regardless of how well she got around. Amanda headed toward the barn.

“What are you doing?”

“I was just being polite asking Ms. Johnson for her permission to look around. We have every right to do so from outside, but if we see just cause, then that changes.” As she neared the structure, she called out, “Valerie? Brooke?”

No sounds flagged. All that hit her ears was birdsong, the breeze rustling the leaves of nearby trees, and the odd vehicle that drove down the road.

“If they’re here, I can’t see any proof of it.” Trent pressed his lips.

“Me neither.”

They returned to the car, and Trent said, “I found it strange she never asked why her son and daughter-in-law were of interest to the police.”

Amanda tried again to picture the elderly woman being part of the conspiracy and couldn’t. “I’m not sure it means anything nefarious. I just don’t think she wants to know. After all, the less she hears, the more she can defend her son.”

“Nothing like a mother’s loyalty, I guess.”

With the devoted ones… Despite how Amanda could empathize with the woman’s stance as a mother herself, it was beyond frustrating they weren’t any closer to finding Valerie and Brooke. Her phone rang once she was in the car and doing up her seatbelt. The caller’s identity had her answering on speaker. “Detective Steele.”

“Officer Jensen. I’m posted down the street from Bill Johnson’s house. You’ll never guess who just returned home.”

“Detective Stenson and I will be right there. Well, in about forty minutes.”

“Should I approach him, bring him in?” Jensen asked.

“No. Hold off. But if he goes to leave, tail him.”

“You got it.”

Amanda ended the call and turned to Trent. “Time to get some answers.”

“You could have just had Jensen bring him in.”

“I could have, but I want to have a look around his property for myself.”

“Can’t blame you there.” Trent got them moving.

As the Johnson farmhouse faded in the rearview mirror, Amanda’s gut clenched. Had they just left Valerie and Brooke behind?

THIRTY

This was the first time Amanda and Trent were seeing Bill Johnson’s house. A modest gray-brick bungalow, at least thirty years old. The garden beds were full of flowering perennials and being strangled by weeds that were left to grow. A privacy fence lined the property, blocking out the view of the backyard, but the roofline of a shed was visible.

They passed Jensen’s cruiser, and Trent pulled into the driveway behind Bill’s black cargo van. If he got the harebrained idea to run, it would be on foot.

Trent banged on Bill’s door, and called out, “PWCPD. Open up.”

Nothing. Though criminals rarely did what they were told.

Trent repeated the process, and said, “We know you’re in there.”

More silence.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” she said.