Page 70 of Chasing Creed

“The bank, but it’s around the corner. No view of this street. I think we’ve reached a dead end on who left the windshield note. Might be a dead end on this waitress, too.” He sat back and looked up at her. “Have you told Ryder yet?”

“No, but I need to. It’s just…I don’t want to panic him if there’s no connection. He’ll go into lockdown as soon as I tell him.” She checked her wristwatch. “I asked Alonzo to run backgrounds on the victims’ names. See if their stories are similar to Brodie’s.”

“Nina Wrobel’s disappearance was enough of a match. But I get it. We shouldn’t presume a killer is telling us the truth.”

“It’s possible the person who left the note heard or read the story about Iris kidnapping and trying to replace her daughter. I’ve seen copycat killers. Maybe this guy’s simply using the story for an excuse to kill.”

“Even if it’s just a possibility, you might want to tell Ryder. He and Brodie need to be aware she could be in danger.”

“I know.”

“Looks like he’s still hanging around here if he just took Rachel last night.”

“Before we head back, there’s one last place we should check.” Maggie gestured to his empty coffee container. “Get another one of those.”

“Okay. You want a Diet Pepsi?”

“Yes, please. Can. Not soda fountain.”

“Where exactly are we going?”

She pulled out the napkin with Fred’s crude map in blue ink. “We’re going to do one last check on Rachel. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find she’s sleeping off a hangover.”

Less than fifteen minutes later, they drove up to the trailer directed by Fred’s napkin scrawls. No one answered the door. There was no Ford Fusion anywhere in sight. There was no vehicle on the property. And no tracks since last night’s snow.

Rachel Collins had not made it home.

48

Missouri

Dirty ice chunks were the only evidence of snow by the time Sara reached the southern tip of Missouri. Finally, a little sunshine, and the temperatures were warm enough to cut the truck’s heater and open windows.

She’d parked behind a three-story hotel off I-55. The parking lot was full, so no one would notice whether she was a guest. The open field that backed to the hotel’s property provided yellow-green grass and no signs that warned about trespassing. Other than a couple of gas stations, this was their first stop to get out and walk since they’d left Granny El’s.

She thought the dog would appreciate the break. Instead, Shadow reluctantly left the truck with a hunched back, eyes wide, tail tucked, and ears flattened. She kept close at Sara’s side. Close enough to brush against her left leg, almost as if the dog wanted the extra reassurance that she wouldn’t be left on her own again. She wouldn’t wander off, and probably didn’t need a leash, but Sara did. Sara needed her own sort of reassurance.

She had lived the greater part of her life looking over her shoulder for threats and avoiding blows. But now, she found herself looking out for this dog. She’d never been responsible for another living being. It made her feel anxious and stressed. And yet, in a strange way, it felt good to have someone need her. To have someone excited about her return. And content with her simple presence. It was something Sara had never experienced.

Now back in the truck, she pushed back the bench seat and pulled out a tote bag from the floorboard on the passenger side. It was time for Shadow’s meds, and the dog’s ears perked up at the smell of the peanut butter lid being twisted off. Sara had packed their snacks, bandages and medicine in the easy-to-reach bag. Their meals were already prepared in the small cooler also on the floorboard, so Sara didn’t have to pull anything out from the back of the truck until they settled for the night. Best-case scenario, she’d drive all night.

Putting the jar of peanut butter back inside the bag, she realized she had stuffed too much inside. At the last minute, she added four small jars of Granny El’s homemade jam. It had been surprisingly difficult to leave the old woman’s house. Other than the quick trip to Wyoming, Sara had stayed there since the beginning of fall. She needed to make the necessary preparations.

Iris had insisted Sara watch over her house and property when her last effort to be released on bail had been rejected. Her tone changed. Suddenly, she appeared to realize she might have a fight on her hands. That “these ridiculous people” might hold her in prison for longer than she expected.

Iris’ tone wasn’t exactly conciliatory, but she became more careful in how she conducted her outside communication. And Sara was one of the few contacts she had on the outside that she could trust. Or perhaps one of the few that she could still manipulate into helping her. There were constant reminders that Sara needed her protection. That Sara owed her. And in case all of that wasn’t enough, Iris had hired Orlando.

Orlando was a longtime friend and “business associate” of Iris’ dead brother Eli. According to Iris, that made him “practically family.”

But Iris had never given any instructions or any thoughts about Granny El’s. In fact, Iris had abandoned it ever since she vanished the old woman. Whenever Sara had asked about Granny El, Iris told her, “It was time.” She told Sara not to bother about the old woman or her property.

Sara hadn’t even had a chance to say goodbye. Iris had sent Sara away on a week-long assignment. When she returned, Granny El was gone. The windows of her house were boarded up. Security padlocks were placed on all the doors. And absolutely no explanation as to why or where the old woman had gone. There would be no more conversation or questions allowed on the subject.

That was several years ago when Iris’ power was overwhelming. Even now, from behind prison bars, Iris still held control over Sara. Over Orlando. And over men even tougher than Orlando. She knew all of their secrets, and she wasn’t afraid to share them if she had to.

For Sara, taking care of Iris’ properties meant extra money added to Sara’s measly allowance. She had decided on her own to fix up Granny El’s place. She’d taken every extra dollar she received or could siphon from Iris and put it into the house. In the beginning, Sara simply had too much spare time, waiting for Iris’ directives from prison.

She’d learned online how to make plumbing and electrical repairs. Each project led to another. Turned out she was good at fixing things, solving problems and putting pieces back together.