Return to Mystic Lake (8 page)

Again her heart squeezed painfully tight as she placed a hand gently on his shoulder. “We’re doing the best we can, Max.”

He nodded and stepped back to his father’s side. “We’ll be in touch,” Jackson said.

Once they were back in the car Marjorie slammed the steering wheel with the palm of her hand. “Who would be so evil to take away that little boy’s mother?”

“Let’s hope we get some answers in Mystic Lake today,” Jackson said, a hint of emotion thickening his voice.

They didn’t speak again until they reached the small town. The first place they stopped was at the sheriff’s office, where they found Roger Black seated in Cole’s office.

“Any news on the missing Jeff Maynard?” Jackson asked the middle-aged head deputy.

“Actually, I have a tip from the rumor mill that he’s holed up with Tara Tanner.”

Marjorie looked at him in surprise. “Jimmy’s ex-wife?”

Roger nodded. “That’s the word out on the streets. Apparently they were seen together last night at the liquor store.”

Marjorie’s head spun as she remembered their talk with Jimmy. Had Jimmy lied about Jeff not being at the poker party because he was ticked that Jeff was with his ex-wife?

Roger shoved a piece of paper toward them. “This is Tara’s address. Be careful—she’s a bit of a firecracker.”

“So we’ve heard,” Jackson replied.

Roger looked tired, with dark circles beneath his eyes and his brown hair standing on end as if it had felt the rake of frustrated hands through it too many times.

“I wish somebody would find Cole. This job was his, not mine. He’s a good sheriff and everyone wants him back behind this desk, where he belongs.”

“Right now we have three people in our sights as potential suspects,” Marjorie said. “Hopefully in the next hour or so we can either remove Jeff from that short list or confirm that he had something to do with Cole and his wife’s disappearance.”

“I wish all of us could be more help,” Roger said as he stood. “I’ve got all my men out on the streets, pounding the pavement in an effort to find some kind of answers, but so far we’ve come up empty-handed on our end.”

“We’re going to check in with good old Jeff now, and then we have another person of interest we intend to check out this afternoon,” Jackson said. “And in between those interviews we’ll be walking the streets, as well, seeing what scuttlebutt we might be able to pick up.”

“As you both know, we’re at your disposal at any time. Whatever you need from us, you’ve got,” Roger replied.

With that Marjorie and Jackson left with directions to Tara Tanner’s house. “Jimmy was mad at Cole for outing his cheating. I wonder what Tara’s feelings are about Cole?”

“She should probably consider he did her a big favor,” Jackson replied. “I’ve never understood women who put up with men who cheat on them.”

“Maybe it’s a matter of a bad man is better than no man at all,” she replied.

“I’ll bet you wouldn’t put up with a cheater,” he said.

“You’ve got that right. If by some miracle, at any point in my life I would decide I wanted a meaningful relationship with a man, I’d expect monogamy. I’d far rather be alone than just have a male body in my life who wasn’t committed to me body, heart and soul.”

“Apparently Tara Tanner has an addiction to bad boys, if she’s moved on from Jimmy to Jeff,” Jackson replied.

“We’re about to find out,” Marjorie replied as she pulled into the driveway of a neat ranch house.

Together they got out of the car and approached the front door. Remembering Roger’s warning about Tara being a firecracker, and the fact that it was possible Tara had hired men to beat up Jimmy, Marjorie made sure her gun was easily accessible, if needed.

Jackson knocked on the door and they waited. When there was no reply, he knocked again, harder this time. “Hold your damn horses,” a husky female voice called from inside the house.

The door flew open to reveal a bleached blonde wrapped in a red silk robe that had several cigarette burns down the front. The air that wafted out of the door smelled of stale smoke and booze and dirty clothes.

“Yeah? What do you want?” Tara pulled a cigarette and lighter from the pocket of her robe, lit up and blew smoke at both of them.

“We’re here to talk to Jeff,” Jackson said.

Tara frowned in fake confusion. “Jeff who?”

“Are we really going to play that game?” Marjorie asked dryly.

A tall shadow appeared behind Tara, and as he came into view he gave them a guilty smile. “Hey,” Jeff said.

“We need to talk to you,” Marjorie said.

“I figured as much.”

Tara stepped back with a shrug of her shoulders, and Jeff gestured them into the semidark living room. Marjorie and Jackson stood just inside the door, looking at the bartender who was dressed only in a pair of plaid boxers and a stained white T-shirt. He wore bed-head badly, and it was obvious they had awakened them.

“Tara, put some coffee on,” he said, and she scurried out of the living room.

“None for us,” Marjorie replied. She wasn’t about to put her mouth on anything that came from this house.

“It’s for me,” Jeff replied. “We went on a little bender last night and I have a headache from hell. So, guess you’re here about the poker party on the night that Cole and his wife disappeared.”

“Your alibi sucks, buddy,” Jackson said. “Your friends say you never showed up that night. You didn’t even call them to say you weren’t coming.”

Jeff raked a hand through his hair, making his bed-head even worse. “Yeah, well, I hooked up with Tara that night and I couldn’t exactly call Jimmy and tell him I was boffing his ex-wife. That was the first night Tara and I hooked up, and I’ve been here ever since.”

Tara came back into the room. “He’s telling the truth.”

“And we should believe a woman who has been hiring thugs to beat up her ex-husband?” Marjorie said.

Tara’s cheeks grew dusky with color. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She averted her gaze to the wall.

“I think you do, and we could take you in right now and have you arrested for conspiracy to commit bodily harm or even attempted murder.” Marjorie glared at the woman.

Tara’s gaze shot back to Marjorie. She folded her arms across her chest, a mutinous expression on her face. “Okay, so maybe I wanted Jimmy to get banged up a little for all the hurt he caused me over the years, but I didn’t want him hurt too bad.”

Jeff looked at her with stunned surprise. “You actually hired people to beat up Jimmy?”

“It doesn’t matter what I did, I’m telling the truth when I say that Jeff was with me on the night that the sheriff and his wife disappeared,” Tara said.

She took a deep drag of her cigarette, ignoring the ashes that fell on her ample breasts. “Besides, no offense, but Jeff is too much of a dumb ass to pull off the kidnapping of two people. He couldn’t even figure out that it was smart to tell the truth about where he was that night.”

“Hey,” Jeff said in protest. “I’m not a dumb ass.”

Yeah, he was, Marjorie thought and there was no way in hell she’d believe that he had anything to do with whatever had happened at Cole’s house almost two weeks ago.

She looked at Jackson. “I think we’re done here.”

He nodded and inched toward the door as if he couldn’t wait to escape the confines of the house. “If we have more questions we’ll be in touch. Make sure you both are available,” he said.

“Whew, I couldn’t wait to get out of there,” Jackson said once they were back in the car.

“Did you see the look on Jeff’s face when he found out that Tara had hired people to beat up Jimmy?” She laughed. “I don’t see a happy ending for Jeff with Tara.” Her laughter lasted only a moment and then she sobered. “I also don’t think Jeff had anything to do with Cole and Amberly’s disappearance. I think we need to take him off our short list of suspects.”

A wave of discouragement swept through her. Their list of suspects was dismally small for the length of time they’d been working the case.

For the first time since she’d been handed the case she began to wonder if they’d find the answer they sought, or if this would wind up being like what Jackson had been working on in Bachelor Moon...an unsolved case with collateral damage in the teary eyes of a young child.

Chapter Eight

After leaving Tara’s house, Maggie parked her car on the street in front of a business that sold knickknacks and trinkets, and they took off walking.

The heat was unrelenting, the humidity like a sauna, and Jackson wasn’t sure what he hoped would happen as they interacted with some of the people of the small town, but he knew with certainty that the investigation was in trouble.

Cell phones had yielded no clues; the bank accounts and credit card activity had remained untouched. It was as if Cole Caldwell and his wife had been levitated into an awaiting spaceship. Just like Sam and Daniella and Macy from Bachelor Moon. He shook his head to dispel the thought.

It was important they continue to work this case by itself until the time came that they either found some answers or had to reach the horrible conclusion that somehow, someway, the Bachelor Moon crime and this one were related.

He shouldn’t be confused by attempting to combine the two cases together even though so far they had only one person who had motive for getting rid of Amberly—and that was her ex-husband.

At the moment he was attempting to focus on the chicken fried steak dinner in front of him. He and Maggie had ducked into the diner twenty minutes ago for a late lunch.

Maggie picked at her salad as if without appetite, and he knew the lack of forward motion in the case was affecting her, as well.

“Don’t look so depressed,” he told her.

She looked up and offered him a small smile. “I just can’t get Max’s little face out of my head.”

As he had that morning, he reached across the table and covered her smaller hand with his. He liked touching her. He wanted to give her comfort, but he knew as far as the case went, he had no words of support to offer her.

She surprised him by twining her fingers with his. “We’re doing the best we can, right?” she said.

“Maggie, honey, we’re doing everything humanly possible.”

She squeezed his fingers a little tighter. “I just don’t understand why we haven’t found their bodies yet. Deep in my heart I can’t imagine a kidnapper keeping them alive for this length of time. That takes planning and work, and even though John might have the best motive for something happening to Amberly, I also believe it would be in his best interest just to kill them and let them be found.” She finally pulled her hand away from his.

“He has a lot of resources,” Jackson said. “Despite his modest home, he’s a very wealthy man. He may have properties we don’t even know about, people working for him who aren’t even here in town. I’ve got people from your field office trying to dig deeper into John’s life and finances.”

She looked at him in surprise. “Working behind your partner’s back?”

He shook his head. “Just using whatever resources are available. I know your gut instinct is that John had nothing to do with whatever happened, and to tell you the truth, my gut instinct has completely stopped talking to me. I’m starting to believe in aliens abducting people for scientific studies.”

He was rewarded with one of her infrequent but charming laughs. “If that’s the case then maybe both of us need to make some aluminum foil antennae to make contact with the alien species.”

He grinned. “I think you’d look beautiful in a pair of aluminum earpieces.”

“Stop that,” she chided him.

“Stop what?”

“Don’t flirt with me. I want to know the real Jackson Revannaugh, not the superficial one who spews compliments like the peeing boy statue sprays water.”

“I can’t believe you just compared me to a little boy statue in Brussels,” he said with a laugh. “And just for your information, that wasn’t a superficial compliment. That one came straight from my heart.”

Her gaze held his and then she looked down and stabbed a piece of carrot with more force than necessary. “You make me a little bit crazy,” she said.

“I think you’re making me a little crazy, too,” he admitted.

They finished their meal in silence and then once again hit the sidewalks for more interaction with the locals. Edward Bentz’s landlady, Betty, had told them that she expected Edward back around dinnertime.

Jackson was eager to talk to the man who had ties to both Baton Rouge and Mystic Lake, a man who had visited Maggie’s mother before he’d left town.

Certainly, there were elements of this case Jackson found quite troubling, elements that weren’t like what he’d investigated with the Bachelor Moon disappearance.

Everything that could be done was being done, both at the federal and at the local levels. There was nothing more they could do but what they were doing.

They spent the next couple of hours going in and out of stores, chatting up people about the sheriff and his wife. Everywhere they went, everyone they spoke to had only good things to say about Cole and Amberly.

Spinning wheels, he thought in disgust. They were hamsters running as fast as they could and getting nowhere. Somebody had been threatened by them, but who? Who had been holding on to the Uzi that shot up their motel room?

He believed the threat had come from this small, pleasant town with its sparkling lake and friendly people. He believed that whoever had shot the gun had followed them from here with the intent to kill them both.

At five o’clock they headed back to Marjorie’s car. “I’m hot and my feet are killing me,” Marjorie said as she leaned against the driver door. “I’m not used to doing this kind of pounding-the-sidewalk investigation.”

“I told you it might be a good day to go casual,” Jackson replied, although his feet were aching, too, and his polo shirt was damp with perspiration.

The sun was relentless and the humidity was like a living entity trying to suffocate him to death. “Is it always this humid here?” he asked as he slid into the passenger seat and she got behind the steering wheel.

“This feels worse than usual. I heard somebody say we’re supposed to get storms tonight. The atmosphere is definitely soupy enough for them.” She started the car and turned the air conditioner on high blast.

It blew hot air for several seconds and then began to cool. Jackson moved his vents to shoot on his face and neck and looked out the window where the sky remained cloudless. “I don’t see any signs of rainstorms anywhere,” he said.

“Give it another hour or two,” she replied. She backed out of the parking space. “Look to the southwest, that’s usually where they come from. I just hope we’ve given Edward Bentz enough time to get from wherever he’s been to Betty Fields’s place. I’m eager to see why he was visiting my mother.”

“I’m eager to ask him a lot of questions,” Jackson replied. He hoped there was a reasonable explanation for Edward Bentz’s sudden move to Mystic Lake. He hoped they’d discover that the man had family here, that he’d grown up here and decided it was the place he wanted to retire.

Otherwise Jackson would have to consider if he was a potential link between the crime that had occurred in Bachelor Moon and what had happened here in Mystic Lake.

By the time Maggie pulled up in Betty Fields’s driveway behind a white panel van, Jackson’s head was spinning. A high dose of adrenaline pulsed through him at the sight of the van, which hadn’t been in the driveway when they’d been here before.

If somebody was going to kidnap two people, they would need transportation, and a panel van was the perfect vehicle for such an undertaking.

Betty answered Jackson’s knock. She was a petite older woman with a head of snowy-white hair and the smile of a gentle soul. “Come in and get out of the heat,” she exclaimed. She ushered them into a small, cool formal living room with a sofa, two chairs and a polished coffee table.

The scent of pot roast rode the air, and Jackson’s stomach rumbled despite the fact that they’d had a late lunch.

“I know you’re here to speak to Edward. He’s just gone to his room until dinnertime. I’ll call him and you all can talk in here.” She gestured them to the sofa and then disappeared down a hallway.

The sound of a knock on the door, a murmur of voices, and then she returned with a tall, broad-shouldered man following at her heels. “I’ll just be in the kitchen if you need anything,” she said, and quickly scurried from the room.

Edward Bentz was a handsome man with sandy hair and hazel eyes. He gave them both a pleasant yet curious smile. “You wanted to speak to me?” he asked.

Jackson did the introductions, noting the slight dilation of Edward’s pupils as he realized they were FBI agents. “What have I done to warrant the interest of the FBI?” He sank down in the chair opposite the sofa.

“The first thing is that you visited my mother before you left town,” Maggie said.

“Your mother?” His brow wrinkled and then smoothed out. “Of course, you’re Katherine’s daughter. I should have recognized the resemblance.”

“What was your business with her?” Maggie asked, her tone more aggressive than usual.

“Business? No business. I knew Bob Stevenson. I used to deliver medical supplies all over the southern portion of the States. I met Bob and we became friendly and then a year went by when I didn’t see him. I saw him again about three months ago and he mentioned that he’d married and divorced a woman from Mystic Lake. I got the impression he’d done her wrong, and so when I came to town I decided to look her up. She’s a lovely lady, by the way.”

Jackson could tell Maggie wasn’t sure if she believed him or not. “I understand you’re from my neck of the woods,” Jackson said. “Baton Rouge?”

Edward grinned. “I’d know that accent anywhere. I called Baton Rouge home for a long time, although my roots are here in the Midwest.”

“Ever hear of a place called Bachelor Moon?” Jackson asked.

Edward frowned again. “No, I don’t believe I know the place. Is it near Baton Rouge?”

“Not far from there,” Jackson replied. “So, why does a man move from Baton Rouge to Mystic Lake?”

“I came into a little money, an inheritance, and decided my traveling-salesman days were over. I was sick of the big city and remembered passing through here once when I came to a conference in Kansas City. I wanted a small town, and this seemed to be the perfect place.”

Although he spoke earnestly and his facial features showed no signs of lying, as he’d talked his body had shifted slightly away from Jackson, and his feet pointed toward the door.

When Jackson began to question him about his whereabouts on specific dates, Edward got downright shady, not remembering where he’d been or who he’d spoken to, professing that since he’d been making trips back and forth to Baton Rouge he wasn’t sure what days he was where.

He couldn’t provide receipts for gas or travel, didn’t have records of what motels he’d stopped at on his trips. “I didn’t know any of this would be important,” he exclaimed. “I’m just a retired salesman looking for a quiet life. Why would I want to hurt a sheriff and his wife?”

Why indeed?

By the time they left Edward, Jackson was more confused than ever. There was something about the man he didn’t trust, but he couldn’t make the pieces fit. According to Bentz, he’d never even met Cole Caldwell.

Dammit, they needed a break, he thought as he slammed out of the house when they were finished with the interview. He got into the car and noted the dark clouds gathering in the sky.

Maggie had been right. It looked as though a storm was brewing, and he felt it simmering inside him. The frustration that roared through him was the same that he’d felt when he’d been working the case in Bachelor Moon, only bigger and stronger.

He couldn’t imagine working back-to-back cases that yielded no answers, no closure. He was used to solving crimes, not allowing crimes to beat him, and at the moment he felt totally beaten.

Maggie slid into the car and turned to look at him. “Food,” she said. “I sense a raging beast not only in the sky but also in the seat next to me. I can’t do anything about the coming storm, but we need to feed the beast before he fully emerges. We’ll stop at the diner before we leave town.”

He looked at her in surprise, wondering when in the time they’d spent together she’d come to know him so well.

“I just feel like we can’t get a damned break,” Jackson said when they were seated in the Mystic Lake diner, where they had eaten lunch earlier in the day.

They’d already ordered burgers and fries, but even the promise of imminent food didn’t relax the tense lines on Jackson’s face.

“You’ll feel better after you’ve eaten,” she said. She took a sip of her water as outside the window where they sat, the sound of thunder rumbled, and lightning flashed in the distance. Hopefully they could eat quickly enough to get back to her place in Kansas City before the rain came.

“What did you think about Bentz’s story?” he asked.

She released a tired sigh. “To be honest, I don’t know what to think. I definitely believe we need to dig a little deeper into his background, confirm his previous employment and whatever we can find out through legal channels. We don’t have enough on him to get any kind of a warrant to dig too deep.”

“I did a cursory background search on him already. He has no criminal record. The man has never even gotten a speeding ticket,” Jackson said with obvious disgust.

“Maybe it is just a coincidence that he showed up in town around the same time Cole and Amberly went missing. Maybe he really is exactly what he says he is, a traveling salesman from the South who decided to retire to a small Midwestern town.” She sighed once again. “And maybe the moon is really made of green cheese.”

“So, you didn’t believe him,” Jackson replied. He paused as the waitress arrived with their orders.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” she admitted. “I feel like my brain has been taken out, scrambled and shaken and then set back in place. Maybe I’m just exhausted. I haven’t been sleeping very well.”

“That makes two of us,” Jackson replied.

She had a feeling he wasn’t sleeping well for the same reason she wasn’t. Each night that he’d been beneath her roof, she’d tossed and turned, trying not to think about him in the next room, trying not to play and replay the kiss they’d shared. The energy between them snapped and crackled, and fighting it had become exhausting.