Krewe of Hunters The Unseen (32 page)

9780778313298_HC.indd 280

11-12-01 3:55 PM

281

resume next week.” He looked at them both for a moment.

“I think I’ve found something you’ll want to see.” Logan and Kelsey walked around to stand behind him.

Sean had a series of emails up on the screen.

“This showed up at eight,” he said, indicating the computer. “It belonged to Linsey Applewood, and her landlord had it in storage. I hacked her code and brought up her emails. She was corresponding with someone called
Mr.Alamo.
”

“Were you able to trace it back to a name?” Logan asked.

Sean’s expression was sheepish. “If I’d traced a name, I’d be dancing a jig. No, no name, but I did find out that the emails were all coming and going from an internet café a few blocks from the Longhorn. The thing is, you need to read the email correspondence.”

Sean stood and allowed Logan to take his place. “Go to the first one. They start about two years ago, and become more…evocative, I guess you could say.” Linsey Applewood’s screen name had been
seeitgirl.
The first email had been sent by
Mr.Alamo.

Hey. Heard you have a gift. I have a gift. Maybe we could get together and explore options.

Seeitgirl
had written back:

I’m the real deal. I don’t play games.

Then you should come here. The area is full of legends, mysteries—and riches.

IN PROCESS EDITION - JAN. 10, 2012

9780778313298_HC.indd 281

11-12-01 3:55 PM

282

More emails followed in a teasing vein, including some that questioned
seeitgirl
’s abilities.

I talk to the dead, she’d written at last.

And

Mr.Alamo
had responded:

That’s what is needed. Only the dead can tell the tale. When you come, I will prove that I am everything I claim. And then you must prove that you are all that you claim. If so, we can share fame and treasure.

“Where’s the internet café?” Logan asked.

Sean gave him the exact address.

“I’ll need to bring photos of the woman,” Logan murmured. “Do we have a list yet of people working at the Longhorn at the time Sierra was murdered?”

“We have what I could pull off IRS logs,” Sean said.

“I guess being federal is good.” Logan grinned. “Very helpful. But we still need to interview Sandy, see what she remembers about any staff who were there a year ago.” He looked at Kelsey. She groaned. “I think that someone other than me should call her right now.” Logan nodded. “I’ll do it.”

“No, wait,” Kelsey said, heading for one of the other desks. “I’ll get her down here. I can’t believe she’s still that upset with me, or that she’ll refuse to help with an ongo-ing murder investigation.”

She sat down and dialed the Longhorn. Logan watched as she got an answer, as she waited and then frowned. Finally, she hung up.

“Logan, Sandy is gone.”

“What do you mean, gone?”

IN PROCESS EDITION - JAN. 10, 2012

9780778313298_HC.indd 282

11-12-01 3:55 PM

283

Kelsey’s face was taut with tension. “I spoke with Ricky.

He got the customers out at about four in the morning. He didn’t see Sandy then, but he assumed she’d gone to bed.

He went to wake her when she didn’t show up this morning and he found that her bed hadn’t been slept in. Her handbag’s there, none of her clothing is gone, but he can’t find her. Oh, God, Logan, do you think the killer was there last night? That…he’s taken Sandy?”

IN PROCESS EDITION - JAN. 10, 2012

9780778313298_HC.indd 283

11-12-01 3:55 PM

K elsey felt dizzy for a moment, worried sick, afraid that her affiliation with the case and her relationship with Sandy might have put her friend at risk. She was going to stand, but she didn’t. She couldn’t allow trembling knees in front of her coworkers. And a U.S. Marshal didn’t burst into tears. Neither did an FBI agent. She had strength. She knew it, and she knew her work. However, she’d had no idea what it would feel like when someone she cared about might be in a deadly position because of
her.

Sean looked at her from behind the computer desk. She saw the concern in his eyes. Logan, too, wore an expression of concern; he moved closer to her. “She has a crush on Chasson, right? Let’s find out if she went home with him.” He glanced at Sean. “Try to get him on the phone, and try everyone you know until you find him. Sandy’s probably with him, but even if she’s not, we’ll want to question him.” He looked back at Kelsey. “Sandy could be walking IN PROCESS EDITION - JAN. 10, 2012

9780778313298_HC.indd 284

11-12-01 3:55 PM

285

around the city, just needing a break from the Longhorn.

I’m not going to say you shouldn’t worry, but the last day’s been traumatic for her.”

Kelsey nodded. Before panicking, there were a dozen intelligent avenues she could follow. “Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t even be considered missing yet.”

“Let’s go. While Sean tracks down Jeff Chasson, we’ll start at the Longhorn and try to retrace Sandy’s steps,” Logan said. “Meanwhile, Sean can get a list of addresses for everyone we know was in the saloon last night, and we’ll pay calls on them while we keep trying to reach Sandy.

Sean, could you send someone to the evidence locker to see if they had a computer for Sierra Monte? You might check where Sheryl Higgins was last seen, too, and if there’s a possibility she had a computer, iPhone, iPad, whatever.

We’ll stay in close contact.”

Just as they were leaving, Jackson walked in. Logan briefed him on the latest developments, and Jackson listened gravely, then handed Logan the newspaper he’d been carrying.

“Have you seen this?” he asked.

Logan stopped and read the front page. Ted Murphy had been at it again.

Missing Dead Woman Found in Walls of Historic Longhorn. Below that, Actor in Custody for Murder. Citizens Question Guilt as Body Count Rises.”

The article went on to describe the discovery of Sierra Monte’s body as disorganized and chaotic. The team as-sembled to seek out answers was compared to the Key-stone Cops. While the sketches of local artist Jane Everett IN PROCESS EDITION - JAN. 10, 2012

9780778313298_HC.indd 285

11-12-01 3:55 PM

286

were helping identify the unknown victims, Texas law enforcement seemed to be working with so-called psychics.

Women in San Antonio should bolt their doors. Apparently, the killer was using a drug cocktail, and no one was safe.

Logan didn’t read the article word for word, but he noticed that Ted Murphy was promising an exclusive interview with accused murder suspect Ned Bixby the next day.

“I can make sure that doesn’t happen. We can transfer him to a federal facility. Since he says his wife went to New Mexico, I could play the federal card,” Jackson told him.

“If Murphy interviews Ned Bixby and gets something from him that we didn’t, it’ll be a good thing,” Logan said.

“Actually, I’d like to have Ted Murphy brought in for questioning. He has details in this article that we haven’t released.”

“We can have him brought in, but he’ll be out in a f lash.

He’ll claim his right as a journalist to protect his sources,” Jackson muttered.

“Well, we can hold him for twenty-four hours,” Logan said.

Kelsey was standing silently at his side, and he knew she was anxious to leave. Jackson didn’t delay them any longer.

Kelsey continued her silence as they drove. He glanced at her and saw the same sick feeling that must have shown in his face three years ago. He reached out a hand for hers.

“We’ll find Sandy,” he said.

“We saw a Ranger’s car in front of the inn this morning. If someone was there through the night, how could this have happened?”

“Rangers don’t tell people what they can and can’t do,” IN PROCESS EDITION - JAN. 10, 2012

9780778313298_HC.indd 286

11-12-01 3:55 PM

287

he said patiently. “If Sandy chose to go somewhere, walk out of the inn, there would’ve been no way he could stop her. Right now, we should think about Jeff Chasson. We both know she was hoping to hook up with him.” Kelsey let out a breath. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just that every time a woman disappears around here, we seem to find her dead.”

He didn’t speak again. They got to the Longhorn and quickly parked on the street. As they started to head inside, Logan noticed that the Ranger car parked outside belonged to a good friend of his, Tyler Montague.

When they walked in, there were only a few stragglers in the saloon. Ricky was sitting at a table with Tyler, who was taking notes. Both men rose when he and Kelsey entered, and Logan set a hand on her back, leading her toward them. As they all sat, he introduced Tyler to Kelsey.

Tyler made a perfect Ranger; tall, lean and muscled, he practiced martial arts during his off hours. Even better, he was smart and methodical.

Ricky was a mess. He looked tired and frantic, dark hair pushed back from his forehead in disarray. His eyes were red-rimmed.

He tried to smile at Kelsey. “The morning’s been insane.

The news is out about Sierra Monte’s body, there’s all kinds of stuff going on at the rodeo fairgrounds today and people have been rushing in from the street to gawk.”

“Ricky, could Sandy have left with Jeff Chasson?” Kelsey asked. She looked over at Tyler Montague. “You would’ve seen them, right?”

“Marshal,” Tyler said, “I didn’t arrive until about two this IN PROCESS EDITION - JAN. 10, 2012

9780778313298_HC.indd 287

11-12-01 3:55 PM

288

morning, so anything that went on before then, I wouldn’t have seen. Ricky’s been giving me a description of everyone here last night and trying to recall everything that happened, and it doesn’t seem to me that Ms. Holly could’ve been forced out by anyone. There were still a few people when I showed up, and part of what I was told to do was clear the bar. The assumption was that Ms. Holly had been upset and left the cleanup to her staff. We didn’t know she never went to bed until Ricky tried to find her when it was time to start cooking and serving breakfast.”

“I didn’t see her leave,” Ricky said. “But I didn’t see Chasson leave, either,” he said, brightening.

“Ricky, is her room locked?” Kelsey asked.

Ricky shrugged. “I don’t remember if I locked it or not after Ranger Montague and I went in there. We saw her purse on the dresser…her keys were by it. I checked the closets—it didn’t look like she’d taken anything with her.”

“Has anyone contacted Chasson yet?” Tyler asked.

“They’re trying from the station,” Logan said.

Kelsey got up. “I want to go into her room,” she announced.

“You know where it is. Right behind the kitchen,” Ricky told her.

“Of course,” Kelsey said.

As Logan stood with her, Tyler said, “I’ll hang here with Ricky and keep an eye on the place. Special Agent Crow wants someone watching the stairs and the gallery.” Logan nodded. He and Kelsey made their way to the kitchen and the room that branched off it.

“The kitchen was detached when the Longhorn was IN PROCESS EDITION - JAN. 10, 2012

9780778313298_HC.indd 288

11-12-01 3:55 PM

289

built,” she said. “By the time Sandy bought it, though, the pantry hall had been built to connect the kitchen to the saloon and the smokehouse, which is now Sandy’s room.” Logan studied the simple architecture. He noted that there was a private door leading to the grounds in back, which had probably been extensive once. Now, there was only the broad lower porch, some trellises, plants and little fountains. The back of the property was set off from its neighbors by a high whitewashed wooden fence, allowing guests privacy.

Logan walked to the door that led outside as Kelsey searched the room for any sign of where Sandy might have gone. Ricky hadn’t lied; there was absolutely no evidence of distress. The bed was neatly made, Sandy’s toiletries arranged in an orderly fashion on her dressing table, and there didn’t seem to be a speck of dust on the hardwood f loor.

As he reached the outer door, Kelsey was peering beneath the bed.

The lock was just a push-button type that could be locked from either side. Logan stepped out and stood on the rear porch. From here, Sandy could take a pathway straight to the street, or she could turn to her right and go through the gate to the backyard. He looked for footprints, but the porch was swept clean. He headed toward the backyard, entered and glanced around. He saw a pretty little toolshed in the far corner. His eyes followed the lawn to where there was access from a door at the rear of the saloon. It led to the side of the stage.

As Logan surveyed the area, his phone rang.

“Raintree.”

IN PROCESS EDITION - JAN. 10, 2012

9780778313298_HC.indd 289

11-12-01 3:55 PM

290

“Logan, it’s Sean. So far, we haven’t been able to get hold of Jeff Chasson. He’s not answering his home phone or his cell. I’ve contacted Bernie Firestone and other people associated with the documentary, and they haven’t been able to reach him, either. I had a patrol car go by his house, and his car
is
parked in front. Should we enter?”