The Truth Seeker (34 page)

And the time is right. Grant bought the horse in either or ’.”

“Amy disappeared in .”

He nodded. “Grant and Christopher were both here. Chicago did come to Amy.”

She started tapping her pen on the table, and Quinn waited. “That tells us more than I thought we would find.” She reached for one of the photographs on the table from the excavation of Rita’s grave and held it out to him. “What do you see?”

It was a photograph taken looking down into the grave site. The

“It matches what they were doing during the calf roping.”

He looked back at the picture, stunned.

“It’s a calf roping loop. Look at her hands. The tape first figure—

skeleton beginning to appear was lying face down, the dirt had been brushed away so that Rita’s arms and hands were uncovered. He looked back at Lisa. “What?”

eights around the wrists, then goes around the palms fast and then loops between the hands.”

The silver reflection of the duct tape suddenly became the focus of what he was seeing. “Rita was killed by someone who knew how to calf rope.”

“It’s bigger than that. Someone who roped like that probably killed Rita, Marla, Vera, and Heather.”

“Christopher.”

She rubbed her arms. “I think so. And if that’s true, it suggests Amy is buried somewhere around here, bound in a similar fashion,” she whispered.

He absorbed that.

Lisa got to her feet and came over, closing her hands around his.

“We need to go back to Chicago.”

He slowly nodded. It meant Christopher had probably shot his father.

“Quinn? We’ll find out the truth.”

Twenty-three

Christopher did it.”

“Convince me,” Marcus said quietly.

Lisa scowled at her brother. She was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open, and he wanted to sit and review what she and Quinn had spent the day proving.

“Lizzy, I trust your conclusions. I just want to see how you reached them. You and Quinn are both very close to this.”

She pushed back her chair and got up to walk over to the whiteboard.

Marcus was right. And if she’d missed something in this list

it mattered. She’d already helped convict Grant Danford of a crime she was now arguing he did not do.

“The Plymouth clinched it.”

“What? It was found?”

She nodded. “Lincoln found it this morning at a junkyard, crushed. Christopher had hauled it in. He said he’d hit a tree. It got him fifty dollars. He was the one following Quinn. As soon as we had that, the other threads started falling into place.”

Marcus absorbed that, then nodded. “Go on.”

She wiped the whiteboard clear to draw the circles she now knew by heart. “It’s the number of links that point to Christopher, rather than any one piece.”

She started with Montana. “It wasn’t just Rita and Amy who were horse-crazy. So was Christopher. Quinn was the one who pointed out that to ride in the city, it takes money, access, and time. Christopher started to work for Grant Danford at the stable so he would have the ability to ride. Christopher met Rita Beck and Amy Ireland when they were at the stables taking pictures of the horses. Amy returned to Montana. A year later, Christopher went out to Montana to drive back a horse for Grant. During the time he was there, Amy disappeared and Quinn’s dad was shot.”

She started the list for Chicago. “Rita Beck. Christopher knew her.

His testimony puts himself at the scene when she disappeared. He had access to where she was buried.

“Marla Sherrall. She was buried in the same way as Rita. Again, Christopher has put himself at the scene. He’s driving the Plymouth, following us, he’s the one leaving the notes about the murder, telling me to go away. He’s nervous because we’re investigating Rita and Amy and finding out we’re investigating Marla is enough to push him into trying to stop me. He’s running scared now as he feels the noose tightening.”

“Why kill Marla?”

“Why he chose her? We don’t know. It’s the MO of the killing that makes them connected. But with Vera—the type of duct tape positively linked Vera and Heather. And we’ve placed Christopher knowing Vera.

She worked for his uncle before she retired, knew his aunt. If she knew about the gambling—well we know Christopher had been trying to cover up that fact from his uncle.”

“Martha Treemont?”

“A similar burial to the other victims, but we don’t have a direct connection to Christopher. We’re hoping to find it in the Nakomi Nurseries’ records, that he worked a job near where she disappeared.”

“Christopher burned down your house.”

She nodded, hating him for that. “We think so. It’s the fact Egan’s

house burned down. I don’t think that was an accident,” she said quietly. “We didn’t find it, but he may have gotten away with murder.

Egan didn’t have to be the one who dropped the cigar. The only other person besides Christopher who might benefit from Egan’s death is Walter—and that doesn’t type. Walter wouldn’t have risked a fire that near the nursery when a turn of the wind in the wrong direction would have sent the flames racing through the nursery grounds. The nursery is his life.”

“Agreed. But Walter had to have known or at least suspected something about his brother. Lizzy, he gave Christopher an alibi for the day your house burned down.”

“He’s protecting the nursery, trying to be big brother. Christopher is named as a passive owner. If Christopher is proven to be the arsonist, the insurance company will come after him for the damages, and thus go after the nursery.”

Marcus looked from her to Quinn.

“It’s Christopher,” Quinn stated. “And I want him.”

Marcus nodded. “I’ll get the search warrant.”

“Christopher’s home, vehicles, and the nursery grounds,” Quinn added. “Jack thinks he can match the fuel oil if we can find him a sample of where it came from.”

Twentyfour

The nursery grounds were busy on Saturday afternoon. Customer cars filled all the parking slots in front of the two long greenhouses; drivers were now parking in the grass on both sides of the road.

Quinn pushed open the nursery office door and felt a wave of slightly cooler air rush out to meet him. The front room with its open service counter, large scheduling board, and time clock was noisy with phones ringing and a fax machine active, but it was empty of customers at the moment. “Walter.”

“Back again?” He tore off the fax, scanned it, and passed it to the office manager. “Write up the work order for this and check the inventory.

I’ll figure out which crews to assign later.” Terri nodded, cast a curious glance at them, and turned toward the back office.

Walter picked up his gloves and walked around the counter.

“What can I do for you?” He sounded willing to help but also looked ready to leave.

“We’ve got a problem.”

Walter looked out the window, saw the squad cars pulling in, and stiffened. “Okay

”

“We’re going to have to talk with your brother. Do you happen to know where we can find him?”

“I wish I knew. He was supposed to be working on a job at the new First Union Bank in Naperville, but he never showed. I had to send another site manager, putting the job three hours behind schedule.

Why?” He groaned. “He’s been gambling again, hasn’t he? I knew it.

What kind of trouble has he gotten into this time?”

“We’d like your permission to look around the nursery grounds while we wait on a warrant to his home.”

Walter looked stunned. “What do you think he did?” He looked from one of them to the other, but they didn’t answer him. “Listen, Christopher’s got some problems, not the least of which is his temper, but he’s an okay guy.” He took a deep breath. “I own the house he’s been staying in. The only thing Christopher has is a passive interest in the nursery business. As far as I’m concerned, you can look anywhere you like. I’m sure this can get resolved without going as far as a warrant.”

Quinn looked at Marcus, got a slight nod. “I appreciate it. And I hope it can be resolved with a few questions. You’ll be here for the next couple hours?”

“Here or up at the toolshed. I’ve been working on the sod baler.”

“There’s going to be an officer staying here at the office. Please don’t move any records.”

“Of course not.”

“We’ll be in touch.”

Walter’s business and home were landscaped and carefully maintained for a beautiful image. The house where Christopher was staying was the exact opposite. The yard needed mowing; weeds were growing in the cracks of the walkway from the driveway to the house.

A motorcycle was being taken apart in the front yard, a few feet off the driveway.

Despite Walter’s offer, they had waited for the warrant to search the

“Christopher? Police.”

Quinn walked through the silent house.

Christopher needed a housekeeper. The place hadn’t been dusted “Where do you want to start?” Marcus asked.

“I’ll take the desk in the den. Why don’t you take the bedroom and

nursery grounds and Christopher’s home before coming over. Quinn found the front door unlocked, knocked, and received no answer. He opened the door and stepped inside. Dumped in the hallway were two hockey sticks, a bike helmet, and a set of golf clubs. There was the faint odor of bacon grease in the air.

in months. The kitchen would take a few hours to clean; the dishes were piled in the sink and the counters were littered with coffee grounds and spots of jelly.

closets. If he’s our guy, I think he’d have kept something as a memento.

And if he’s Lisa’s firebug

well most arsonists like the paraphernalia of firemen.”

Marcus headed toward the back of the house.

Quinn found the overhead light in the den had burned out and the lightbulb had not been replaced. He turned on the side table lamp.

The desk was a clutter of mail, open magazines, and jumbled newspapers; two of the drawers had caught on crumpled pages and not closed all the way.

Quinn tugged out the vinyl black cover he spotted under what appeared to be an insurance policy and found it was a month-at-aglance calendar. It fell open at the current month. Quinn was relieved to see that Christopher apparently used it. The squares were filled with scrawled notes and times. He turned back several pages looking through the months. They’d be able to get a good idea from this who they needed to talk with to establish Christopher’s whereabouts. He checked January and found it similarly marked up. Odds were good there would be a calendar from the previous year around here somewhere.

He pulled out the chair and tugged open the first drawer on the

left. He found a thick brown book with its cover falling apart, held together by three rubber bands. Holding it together, he slipped off the rubber bands. It was a disorganized address book, stuffed with business cards and torn off scraps of paper with jotted phone numbers.

“Quinn.”

Quinn slipped the rubber bands back in place and set the address book and calendar to one side to take with him later. He headed back through the house to join Marcus. “Find something already?”

Marcus nodded to the dresser on the far side of the room.

Quinn saw the pictures and walked forward as his jaw tightened, shocked.

Lisa paged through the printouts the office manger had run for her, looking for jobs Christopher had worked near where Vera had lived.

Walter tapped on the door. “Lisa, I’ve got a lead on where Christopher is, but he may not be there for long. Bring the printouts and let’s drive over and get the marshals. I’d like this situation cleared up and settled. Customers are finding it rather disconcerting to see all the cop cars around.”

She was surprised at Walter’s suggestion but also relieved. They needed to find Christopher. She closed the printout and picked it and her notebook up. “I know it’s troubling Walter, but it’s necessary.”

“I wish you’d just tell me what you think he did. I know Christopher. He doesn’t always think before he acts, but that makes him a pain to have around, not a criminal.”

Being left in the dark had to be frustrating. “It may not be that serious once we talk to him. You really think you have an idea where he is?”

“I tracked down one of his more questionable friends. Apparently there’s a poker game going on this afternoon.” Walter held the office door for her, and they stepped out into the bright sunlight. “We’ll take

“Sure. Christopher’s got her picture on his dresser mirror.”

“Quinn.”

“Why else do you have twenty-year-old pictures taped to your

the truck. Your brother said they were going over to Christopher’s house.”

She grabbed the door frame and pulled herself up into the truck, relieved that her back no longer barked with every move she made.

The dust stirred behind them as Walter drove around the office building to the back road.

“Walter, have you ever been to Montana?” She knew the answer but wanted to hear it from him.

If he was surprised by the question, he still answered it. “A couple times over the years. We’ve got distant relatives out there.”

“You and Christopher once drove a horse back for Grant Danford.”

“Grant tell you that? We made a couple trips like that, for Grant and for his neighbor Bob Nelson. Must be twenty years ago now.

What’s that got to do with all this?”

Lisa took a chance and dug out the picture from her portfolio. “Do you remember ever having met this girl?”

He reached over and took the wallet-sized photo. His face went tight. “Where’d you get this?”

“You know her?”

Quinn reminded himself to breathe. There were several pictures of Amy, a couple of them taken of Christopher and Amy together. The pictures were in a small cluster near the corner of the dresser mirror, held in place by yellowing tape. “He kept the pictures of his victim.”

dresser?” Quinn stepped back, clenching his fists to stop from touching the pictures. “He was involved in Amy’s disappearance. He shot my father in the back.”

“Maybe,” Marcus said quietly.

Twenty years of looking had come down to a small collection of pictures in a run-down house in a suburb of Chicago. Rather than relief, there was intense sadness. This wasn’t the vindication and justice he had sought; it was just the truth. “Where’s Lisa? She needs to see this.”