Authors: Patrick Hurley
Tags: #Fiction, #Psychological, #Retail, #Suspense, #Thrillers
She glared at Gallagher for his insensitivity.
The detective believed his question had been more investigative than insensitive. He processed the situation and then made a decision.
Taking his partner aside he gave her instructions, “Elie, I want you and Officer Howell to drive out to the Shaw place and check it out. Call me if you find anything. I am going to reassure Mrs. Shaw and if you need me out there, I will meet you.”
Elie nodded. “As soon as I get directions I am on my way.”
Returning to Justin’s mom he smiled reassuringly, “Not to worry Mrs. Shaw, it’s possible Justin got his days mixed up. If the place is as desolate as you say it is, he wouldn’t know what year it was much less what day.
Everything will work out.”
Romy Shaw smiled weakly at him. She wanted to believe her son was safe. The power of a positive suggestion was an effective dosage for any crisis.
Elie asked Mrs. Shaw for directions to the ranch and raced out quickly. Detective Gallagher brought Mrs. Shaw some coffee. He assigned a community service officer to sit with her while his partner completed her mission.
As he walked back to Chief Parker’s office to finish their discussion, Gallagher mind was jolted by Romy Shaw’s words which echoed in his mind.... “
It’s quiet out there. Not a soul for miles around.”
His instincts as a detective were now quickly deducting the information,
”What a perfect place to hide Allison Taylor!”
Was Justin Shaw keeping Allison out at the abandoned ranch, if so, voluntarily or involuntarily?
Is that why Redding Shaw was drilled in the back of the head? Did he find out this volatile secret regarding his son and was rewarded execution-style?
Justin had been feeling extremely guilty, as evidenced by his mental breakdown, was this because he was the one who took Allison away on that warm summer August day?
Did she vanish or was this part of a carefully orchestrated plan by Justin alone or with Allison’s help? If she was taken involuntarily, then she was in danger. If Justin was ready to snap, then she wasn’t the only one in danger.
So was Elie and Officer Howell.
He quickly dialed Elie’s cell phone as a precaution to prevent the possibility he was right on this one. It rang and rang and rang.
No answer.
As he paced impatiently towards the conference room, he realized why she wasn’t answering his call.
There on the table was Elie Larsen’s cell phone vibrating with sound as it spun in a circle aimlessly. Elie had been in such a hurry, she had forgotten to take it with her.
Chapter Eighty-
five---Answers
With time working against him, Gallagher looked up Officer Howell’s cell phone number and called him. “Hello, Howell here!” came the cheerful greeting.
This was unusual for Howell, normally a cynical sort of guy.
“Jeff? It’s Michael Gallagher. I need to talk to agent Larsen.”
“Larsen? Unless she is hiding somewhere on my houseboat here on Lake Lanier, I think you’re out of luck!”
“You’re on vacation?”
“Yeah, so quit bothering me, Gallagher. I’ve got fish to fry!” This was more like the Howell everyone knew.
Gallagher reasoned quickly that Elie must have realized Howell was off duty so she decided she could handle this herself.
The detective grabbed his gun and cuffs, poked his head in to Chief Parker’s office and told him the latest news.
“I need to get out to the Redding Shaw ranch. His widow thinks that Justin may be in trouble out there. I sent Elie to grab Howell and check it out.
Chief Parker interrupted, “Howell? He’s on vacation….”
“Yeah, I know that now. After Elie left, I realized that Romy Shaw had said the place was desolate with no one around for miles.
I have a hunch there’s a chance that Allison Taylor may be out there. It’s a long shot but, hell, solving this case has been a long shot!.”
“Did you call Larsen and tell her all this?”
I was going to, but, she left her cell phone in the conference room.”
Parker was calm, “Just call her on her police phone.”
“No can do. She has a rental car. I have no way of contacting her. I am going out to the Shaw Ranch. It’s out on Snelling Road just off Bellevue, where Snelling dead ends into dirt.”
The Chief nodded. I was out there hunting with Redding Shaw a few years back. I know the location. I’ll call for back up.
Want me to go with you, Mike?”
Gallagher assured him. “Nah, you’re too old for danger. Let the young bucks handle this one!”
As he half ran out the door of the office, he could hear his boss’s usage of certain vocabulary words that would not be allowed in a standard Scrabble game and would make a nun blush.
Laughing, he jumped into his car and realized he forgot his lucky mascot, Mick. As he debated whether or not to race back to his office to retrieve him, he spotted him sticking out from under the right front passenger seat.
He leaned over and noticed there was a little mud on him. Poor little guy. He suddenly felt a twinge of guilt as he started his car. He also felt more than a twinge of foolishness that he even had guilt over an inanimate object.
Then, he started sneezing again. As one staccato burst followed another, he called his wife and asked for a favor, “Honey, can you pick up some Coldeze at the drug store today. My cold is back.”
Alisha laughed, “Fickle sucker isn’t it! Maybe it’s not a cold. Maybe you’re allergic to me. We haven’t had sex since,”
“Not now, sweetie. I need to go and I am in no mood to think about that beautiful body of yours. I am on my way out to the old Shaw ranch. Thanks. I’ll see you at dinner. Love you.”
He clicked off and felt a little bad he had been so curt with his wife. But, he had to focus on the problem at hand. This may be a major development in the investigation.
It could be what he had been waiting for since the first day of the disappearance.
Turning down Old Bellevue Road, he drove approximately five miles to Snelling Road. He passed Henderson Park and as Snelling disintegrated into dirt he saw a homemade sign, “Bootjack Road.”
He drove carefully along the pathway until he saw another homemade sign, this one was more broken down. It read, ”Redding’s Ranchero.”
He had arrived. He stopped his car short of the ranch and looked at the layout before he proceeded any further.
He was now about one hund
red yards from the ranch house. He could see his partner’s rental car parked around to the right side of the house and an SUV parked near a small shack on the left hand side.
The sport utility vehicle undoubtedly belonged to Justin Shaw. But, he quickly realized it was similar to the make and model of the one he saw Margaret Williams riding in outside the grocery store.
Justin Shaw and Raven?
Could they be in this together, had he missed this combination all along?
His mind went back to briefly seeing Margaret in the SUV. Was it Justin driving the car that night?
As he used his mind to scroll through the details of what he remembered about the utility vehicle he had to smile when he thought about sneezing on his wife’s cake and replacing it on the night his allergies had exploded everywhere.
He picked up his little leprechaun and chided him, “You made me sneeze, Mick. If you hadn’t been so saturated with mud and hay, I would have captured Raven. You’re supposed to help me solve cases, not lose them.”
Ahchoo!
He started sneezing again and tossed his lucky charm in the back seat. “When we get that mud and hay off of you, you can be my good luck charm again!”
Still he was thinking, “
Justin and Raven?”
He carefully put his car in gear and slowly made his way up to the house. He parked his car by the rental.
He got out of his car and started walking slowly towards the house. He suddenly stopped in his tracks and realized he was taking the wrong approach to this. He needed to make one important adjustment first.
Quickly backtracking, he went to his trunk and collected a couple of key items he had not planned on using a few minutes before.
He checked his gun and made sure his holster was unlocked. At that point, he had a strong premonition that the mysterious disappearance of Allison Taylor was about to be solved.
As he neared the building, he unhooked the safety on his gun. He walked cautiously from the right front of the house and peered into one of the smaller windows.
No sign of anyone.
He decided to walk around to the back of the building. He could feel his heart beginning to pound now.
He turned to go back to the main door of the house when he heard his partner’s voice, “Gallagher.” It was a loud whisper. She was keeping her voice down for a reason, he theorized.
As he ran to the sound of her voice to the back of the house, he was stunned to see his partner lying down in a pool of blood. He murmured, “Oh my god, Elie!”
As he approached her, she had her gun drawn but her face was as white as a sheet and her breathing was ragged. He looked down and saw blood on her shirt, her pants, everywhere.
She looked up, saw him and gently put her finger to her lips telling him to remain silent. She motioned to a cellar door about ten feet away. It was the kind of opening to the basement that families used in case of tornadoes.
There were stairs leading downward.
Gallagher came up and whispered to her, “Elie, what happened to you?”
His partner whispered in a raspy voice, “I took a hit. I may have hit him, too. Someone is down there. I believe more than one person. What do we do, Mike?”
Gallagher immediately radioed for an ambulance, “Officer down, might be in critical condition. Bullet wound.”
He gave the directions to the ranch and signed off. “You’ll be fine, Elie; you’re a tough Chicago girl.” He thought for a moment,
“Where was his damn backup?”
“I’m not so tough, Gallagher.”
He tried to keep her strong, “Can you tell me specifically what happened when you got here, Elie?”
She nodded weakly. “I came around the corner to go into the back part of the house and saw the storm door. I carefully proceeded to it, lifted it and looked down into the darkness.