A Shred of Evidence (13 page)

“So when are you bringing in the feds?”

Will leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head. “They’re on the way. We owe it to that little girl to find her—dead or alive—and punish whoever’s responsible.”

J
ulie Hamilton lay on the couch as Wednesday turned into Thursday The grandfather clock struck twelve times, each gong piercing her heart. The FBI had explained how critical it was to find Sarah Beth within the first few hours. After that, the chances of finding her alive dwindled with each tick of the clock.

She focused her eyes on the family portrait taken shortly before Nathaniel’s accident.

Ross stood with his hand firmly planted on Nathaniel’s shoulder, his face beaming with happiness, his eyes full of light that had since gone out.

Nathaniel was a handsome bundle of energy and the spitting image of his Grandfather Gardner.

Sarah Beth’s bright blue eyes and red hair were outshined only by her adoring smile as she reached up to touch her brother’s face just as the photographer snapped the picture.

Julie looked relaxed and youthful minus all the stress lines the past year had etched on her face. She relished for a moment how happy she had felt—and how alive.

She let the tears roll down her cheeks. If only she had paid more attention to Sarah Beth. If only she had appreciated what a gift her daughter was instead of spending so much emotional energy on the son she couldn’t bring back.

Ellen Jones sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, sipping a cup of warm milk, vaguely aware that Guy had stumbled through the doorway.

He put his hand over his mouth and stifled a yawn. “What are you doing up? I hoped you’d sleep better now that I’m home.”

“I’m stressed about Sarah Beth. I’ve been praying for over an hour. Since I’m wide awake, I decided I might as well get up.”

“Must be a horrible ordeal for her parents,” Guy said.

“I just hope it’s because they want her back and not because they
don’t
want her found.”

“The police routinely hold family members suspect in cases like this.”

Ellen mused. “In spite of his strange history, it’s hard to believe Ross Hamilton would molest and murder his daughter while he’s in the spotlight.”

“No one’s saying he did.”

“I know. But I’m bothered by my phone call to Valerie Hodges.”

“Good. At least you still recognize sloppy journalism when you see it.”

“In all fairness to Valerie, she started out with a perfectly valid lead,” Ellen said. “And she uncovered some disturbing facts. Too bad she never made a serious attempt to contact Ross and get his side of the story. I got the impression she didn’t really care if he was guilty or innocent or how much her article might have hurt him. All she wanted was credit for a good story. I have no respect for that.”

“So are you waffling in your assessment of Ross?”

Ellen put her head back and downed the last of the warm milk. “No. I just don’t have the facts yet to back up my suspicion.”

“That’s more like it.”

“I’m glad you’re happy. I’m not going to sleep unless I unwind. I think I’ll put on my sweats and go running on the beach.”

“It’s too late to be down there alone. I’ll go with you.”

Ellen ran with Guy along the surf until she reached her favorite spot at the far end of Seaport Beach, then turned around and ran back to where she had started. She dropped into the warm sand and tried to catch her breath. “I can’t believe … how good … it feels to run.”

Guy stretched out in the sand next to her. “I don’t know … why we haven’t done … more running since we moved here. The beach is a great place for it.”

Ellen lay staring at the starry sky, the damp breeze tickling her face, and became immersed in the sheer magnificence of the heavens. “The last time we saw stars like this was on that dinner cruise in the Cayman Islands.”

Guy took her hand in his. “Makes you realize how small we are and how big God is, doesn’t it?”

“You haven’t talked much about the Lord lately I was beginning to wonder if you’d changed your mind about Him.”

“Of course not. I’ve just been preoccupied trying to impress Brent McAllister. I’ll get back to Bible study and church soon.”

Ellen didn’t tell him how relieved she was. “How’s the case coming?”

“Great. Brent’s decided to let me do the opening.”

Ellen squeezed his hand. “That’s exciting.”

“Yeah, that’s what I wanted.”

“You nervous?”

“Not really. I’m confident that what I have to say will set the tone.”

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Absolutely. Brinkmont’s done everything by the books.”

Ellen wrinkled her nose. “Considering all the sick people in Marble River, that’s hardly comforting.”

“True. But Brinkmont’s done nothing illegal.”

“I don’t know how you stay objective,” Ellen said.

“I look at the facts and try not to let my feelings color the issue—just like you’re trying to do with Ross Hamilton.”

“Then it’s just as well I’m not writing an article
or
defending him,” Ellen said. “Because everything in me feels as though the man must’ve had some part in each of those deaths and disappearances even if the police have never found anything to charge him with.”

“But that’s the name of the game: Innocent until proven guilty.”

“I’m aware of that, Counselor. But I trust my feelings more than you trust yours.”

“I can’t afford that luxury,” Guy said. “Feelings can mislead you. Facts don’t.”

Ellen kept her eyes fixed on the night sky in an effort to keep thoughts of Sarah Beth’s demise from turning into images. If Ross had killed her, surely the police would find enough evidence to charge him. The thought that he might get away with it was almost more than she could bear.

“You’re awfully quiet over there,” Guy said.

“I’m so afraid they’re not going to find Sarah Beth alive. It’s been twenty-two hours—” Ellen’s voice cracked.

“Come on, honey, don’t cry. Let’s pray about it.” Guy tightened his grip on her hand and paused for a moment. “Lord, we know that You have each of us in your sight at all times. If Sarah Beth is alive, we pray You would protect her and bring her to safety. If she’s with You, we pray that the authorities will find her body and bring the perpetrator to justice. Help everyone involved in this case to do a fair and thorough job. We ask it in Jesus’ name.”

Ellen wiped a tear off her cheek.

“Did I upset you?” Guy said.

“No, I always feel close to you when we pray together. I’m just preparing myself for bad news.”

“You ready to head back to the house?”

“You mind if we stay a little longer? It’s so peaceful out here.”

Guy turned on his side and draped his arm over her. “We can stay as long as you like. Pretend we’re on vacation. That ought to relax you.”

Ellen nestled in the sand and listened to the surf whooshing up on the beach. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she lost herself in the smells and the sounds of the sea.

Ellen was aware of a blinding light and a deep voice. She held up her hand in front of her eyes and tried to remember where she was.

“Do you folks know it’s against the law to spend the night on the beach?” a man said. “You’ll have to move on.”

Ellen sat up and could see the man’s silhouette in the moonlight and recognized his voice.
Chief Seevers!

Guy sat up and combed his fingers through his hair. “What time is it?”

“4:30 AM.”

“No kidding? My wife and I were out jogging last night and stopped here to rest. Must’ve gone out like a light.”

Chief Seevers shone the light on Guy and then on Ellen. “Oh … it’s
you
, Mrs. Jones. Want me to drive you home?”

“Well, actually I—”

“We just live up the street,” Guy said. “No need to rattle the neighbors by chauffeuring us home in a squad car.”

“Sorry to run you off, but there’s a city ordinance against congregating, partying, or camping on the beach after dark. It’s an effective means of keeping out the wild kids and the homeless.”

“Well,” Guy said, “we’re not wild or homeless—just a couple of aging baby boomers who fell asleep after a good run.” Guy put his hands on his lower back and stretched. “Come on, honey, let’s head up the hill and find a better mattress.”

Ellen took his hand and trudged through the sand, glad it was too dark for the chief to see her face burning with embarrassment. She stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Have you found Sarah Beth Hamilton?”

“No. Someone reported seeing her with a man at a McDonald’s in Pensacola, but it turned out to be a false alarm. Sure you don’t want a ride home?”

“No, we’re fine,” she said.

The chief tipped the brim of his hat and then walked over to his squad car and got in.

Ellen and Guy crossed Beach Shore Drive and began walking up the hill. When the chief pulled his car away from the curb and drove past them, Guy began to laugh and then laugh harder.

“I’m glad
you
think it’s funny,” Ellen said.

“I wish you could’ve seen your face. You looked like a teenager caught in the dark with her boyfriend.”

“You do realize that was Chief Seevers? I’m sure he thinks I’m a real loon. My credibility just dropped to zero.”

Guy laughed and slipped his arm around Ellen and pulled her close. “Oh, come on. This’ll make a cute story to tell our grandkids someday.”

Chief Seevers plugged in the coffee pot just as his watch beeped. Five o’clock was too early to be in the office two days in a row. Not that he’d ever fallen asleep.

He heard a knock and saw FBI Special Agent Bryce Moore standing in the doorway “Just the man I’m looking for. Come in.”

Bryce dropped down in the chair next to Will’s desk. “We’ve
questioned all registered sex offenders within a hundred miles. As far as we can tell, each has followed the conditions of his parole. Plus, that set of prints on the window doesn’t belong to any of them. Or Hamilton’s coworkers. Or the previous tenant.”

“Where does that leave us?” Will said.

“Other than hanging by our thumbs?” Bryce heaved a sigh. “I’d like to be positive, but it’s time we started looking for a body. I’ve got my agents and some of your officers searching the warehouses and docks in Old Seaport. It doesn’t look like anyone’s been down there in years, except a bunch of pelicans and some kids who painted graffiti all over the place.”

“Seems like a good spot to dump a body,” Will said.

“That’s what I thought. I had my divers take a look before the tide went out. Nothing.”

Will sat back in his chair. “On my way over here, I spotted something lying on the beach and got out to investigate. Turned out to be a couple joggers who fell asleep. And that was the closest thing to a lead I’ve had. Pathetic, eh?”

“More and more I’m thinking Hamilton was involved in this,” Bryce said. “I’ll need a lot more than a hunch to prove it. But he has the strangest history I’ve ever seen for a man without a criminal record.”

“Yeah, I know.” Will got up and went over to the coffee pot. “Can I pour you a cup?”

“No, thanks. I’m due for a little shut-eye.” Bryce yawned and rose to his feet. “My agents will be working around the clock. You’ve got my cell number if anything breaks.”