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The trees parted and a small farmhouse came into view. The front porch was swept clean, the siding freshly painted. Flower beds neatly outlined with bricks held trimmed bushes. Several plants were covered to protect them from the cold with white sheets. Clothes lines, hung between two poles, stood empty.
“Maribelle,” Xavier shouted. “Come out here. The sheriff wants a word.”
The screen door creaked as a woman stepped onto the porch. Her dark hair was threaded with gray and a washed-out dress hung on her slender frame. She didn’t have a coat on. Claire surmised a stiff wind could knock her over. Maribelle had lost a lot of weight in the last year. Was she ill? Or did they not have enough food? Xavier wasn’t the type to reach out for help if it was the latter.
Claire nodded in greeting. “Mrs. Sterling, I’m here to ask about your daughter, Stephanie. Have you heard from her recently?”
Maribelle crossed her arms over her midsection. If Claire’s question surprised her, it didn’t show in her expression. “No, ma’am.”
“When was the last time you spoke to her?”
“I don’t recall. She’s living in Houston now. I got a postcard from her a while back, letting me know she was okay.”
“Do you have the postcard? Could I see it?”
Maribelle passed a glance toward her husband and he gave a stiff nod. She disappeared back inside the house. Xavier’s attention stayed locked on Claire. Hatred oozed off him. Moments later, Maribelle returned. She’d grabbed a shawl for her shoulders and held a postcard in her hand.
Claire stepped forward to take it. She angled the card for Gavin to see. It was dated eighteen months ago and the zip code was from the Houston area. The lettering scrawled across the front appeared feminine. But there was no way to know if it was Stephanie’s without having it examined by an expert. For that, Claire needed something else Stephanie had written.
“Do you still have some of Stephanie’s things?” she asked. “A notebook from school, perhaps? Or a note she wrote?”
“No, ma’am.”
Maribelle voice was flat. Rehearsed. Claire had the sinking sensation that she’d been coached by her husband. Everything about this encounter only deepened her uneasiness about Stephanie’s whereabouts. She chewed the inside of her cheek. “Did Faye Hansen speak with you recently about Stephanie? It’s my understanding she was concerned about your daughter.”
Xavier’s glowered. “We had nothing to do with that woman’s murder. You’re testing my patience, Sheriff. We aren’t criminals, and I’m gettin’ real sick and tired of being treated like one. All we want is to be left alone.”
So he knew Faye was dead. Xavier might live in the woods, but he wasn’t as out of touch as he liked to claim. Maribelle’s expression stayed placid. They could’ve been discussing the weather for all the emotion she showed. But Claire sensed there was more going on under the surface. The older woman’s hand trembled as she tightened the shawl around her shoulders.
Claire lifted the postcard. “I’d like to take this with me, if that’s all right. I’ll return it when the investigation is complete.”
“Don’t bother.” Xavier snorted. “We don’t need it.”
Claire ignored him, keeping her gaze on Maribelle. “I’ll return it.”
For a moment, there was a flicker of something in the woman’s eyes. Gratitude? Worry? Before Claire could figure it out, Maribelle turned. She disappeared into the house. The screen door slapped closed behind her, like a gunshot.
“You’ve asked your questions.” Xavier straightened. “Now go.”
Claire turned. Gavin kept one pace behind her, using his body as a shield. Still, she felt the heat of Xavier’s gaze following her into the trees. A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold weather raced down her spine.
Five
The conversation with the Whitlocks plagued Gavin as he drove to Wilson’s Lakeside Cabin Rental. Xavier had a mean streak, that much was certain. Even his wife was afraid of him. Maribelle didn’t answer a question or make a move without looking toward her husband. It was unnerving. But was he guilty of murdering Faye? It was too early to tell.
In front of him, in her own vehicle, Claire tapped her brakes and pulled into a parking spot. Gavin followed suit. She leapt from her vehicle, holding up a finger indicating he should wait, then went inside the main office. A woman was sitting behind the counter. They started talking.
Hold music spilled from Gavin’s car speakers. He tapped his thumb against the steering wheel. Anxiety churned his stomach. He was waiting for his boss, Lieutenant Vikki Rodriguez, to come back on the line.
Faye’s murder. Stephanie’s disappearance. The missing private investigator. Protecting Claire. There were a lot of pieces to this case and Gavin couldn’t be everywhere at once.
“Gavin, sorry to keep you waiting.” Lieutenant Rodriquez’s voice was clipped but not unkind. “I’ve spoken to Ryker Montgomery. He’s available to assist on the case immediately. As I understand it, you and Ryker have worked together before?”
“Yes, ma’am, as state troopers.”
Ryker wasn’t just a colleague and fellow ranger. He was one of Gavin’s close friends. When an opening became available in Company A, it’d been Ryker who recommended Gavin for the position.
“Good,” Lieutenant Rodriquez said. “I’ve also reached out to Grady West. He stands ready to assist as well, should you need it. Keep me informed, Gavin. Claire went above and beyond during the serial killer investigation. I consider her a friend and an honorary member of Company A.”
