6. Elliot
CHAPTER 6
ELLIOT
M ood already sour, I climb out of my truck and make my way up the short walk to the Jackson family’s front door. Riley has been silent—thankfully—giving me time to figure out what I should do.
I’d been dead set on not taking this case until Lani pushed me into taking Jane Doe out for that walk. Spending time with her helped separate her from the memory of Renee since the only similarity they share is the red hair. But I can’t figure out if that’s a good thing or not since now I can’t get my mind off of her or her terrified expression when that car backfired.
Riley’s not wrong about the rest of them being busy. Since I don’t have any current assignments, I’m the only one who can take the lead on this. But is it such a good idea to jump back into a missing person’s case? Especially one where the woman in trouble looks a whole lot like the last one I lost?
It may have been three years ago, but that failure still haunts me.
We climb the porch steps, and Riley rings the doorbell.
Irene Jackson answers the door, her graying hair pulled back in a tight bun, her face already twisted in irritation. “What do you two want?” she demands.
“Ma’am, we were wondering if we could talk to you. Something happened that we think you should be aware of.” Riley offers her a smile.
“Then talk.”
“It’s sensitive, can we come inside? Please? It will only take a moment.” Honey catches more flies, I remind myself. The Jackson family has never cared for us, thanks to an old feud between our family and theirs. It started decades ago when my father showed interest in my mother. She’d been on a date with the Jackson patriarch, and ever since, he’s claimed my father stole her away. Even though she’s told us many times that there would never have been a date two.
Still, the feud grew and is apparently healthy and strong today.
“I only have a few minutes,” she says, though she doesn’t step aside to let us in.
“What is it, Irene?” The grumpy voice of the Jackson patriarch himself, Lester, sounds as he pulls the door from his wife. His dark eyes are hard as he studies us. “What do you two want?”
“As we were telling Mrs. Jackson, something happened that we would like you to be aware of. It will only take a few minutes of your time.” I force a friendly smile even though irritation is clawing its way to the surface.
“Fine. Only a few minutes though. I have things to do.” He pulls the door open farther and steps to the side to let us in. By the time we’ve made it through the door, Irene is already out of sight. “This way.” He slams the door and stalks through the foyer down the hall toward a study. As soon as the door is closed behind us and he’s seated behind his desk, he crosses his arms. “Go.”
“A woman was found injured in the creek bed on our property.” I watch closely, waiting for any sign that he’s not surprised.
“That’s a shame. What does it have to do with me?” Cool, neutral tone.
“We believe she washed down the river.”
He arches a brow, cheeks reddening as he shifts his attention to Riley. “Are you accusing my family of something?”
“Of course not. We believe she may have been dumped north of your property and washed in.”
“Then why are you here?”
“We were just hoping, if you don’t mind, that you would allow us to trace the creek on your property as well. That way we could see if any clues washed down with her,” Riley says.
“She wasn’t hurt on my property.”
“We never said she was,” I reply, frustration growing. “As my brother said, we think it happened on the other side of your property. As you well know, there’s a park over there with river access.”
“Yet you want to search my land.”
“We want to ride the creek line,” I tell him. “Just in case there are any clues.”
“I don’t see badges on your chest. If I’m not mistaken, you boys aren’t police.”
“Getting a warrant takes time,” I reply. This is going nowhere. “However, if you would rather the police comb your property, that’s entirely fine with us. We’re simply trying to save you the trouble.”
“Unless you find something. Then I’ll have to deal with two intrusions.”
“Mr. Jacks?—”
“No.” He shoves back and stands. “I told you I would give you a few minutes, and I did. Now, if you don’t mind, you can get off my property. Should the police show up with a warrant, I will do what I must do to comply. Until then—” He walks around the desk and pulls open the study door.
Riley and I both turn to face him, but we don’t move. “Mr. Jackson,” I start. “This woman has no idea who hurt her. We’re just trying to help her.”
A flicker of emotion moves across his face, but it’s gone so fast I’m sure I must have imagined it. “That has nothing to do with me. Get off my property before I have you forcibly removed.”
Neither Riley nor I say anything as we leave the house and make our way back toward the truck. I start the engine, but before I can pull out, Irene Jackson marches toward my truck.
“Great, so this isn’t over,” Riley mutters under his breath.
I roll my window down. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Jackson?”
“I heard what you told Lester. The woman is alive?”
“She is,” I reply.
Her expression softens. “You can search our property for clues. But do not get caught. Lester is adamant you stay away from our land.”
“Why do you think that is?” Riley questions.
Irene levels a glare on him. “He doesn’t like you. I assure you, no one in my family had anything to do with harming the woman. But if it’s possible you’ll find something that leads the police to who did, then I don’t want our family to stand in your way.”
“Thank you.” I offer her a smile. “I appreciate it.”
“Warrants take time. If Lester is waiting for the police to obtain one, whatever was there could be gone.” She steps back. “Come tonight after midnight, and steer clear of the house and barn. I’ll make sure no one is out and about.”
“We will,” I assure her.
She nods then turns and stalks back toward the house.
“That was unexpected,” Riley comments as we pull out of the gated drive.
“She was in an abusive relationship before she met Lester,” I tell him, remembering a story my mother once told me.
“Man, I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah. My guess is she’s looking at this a bit more personal than Lester.”
He sighs. “Looks like a midnight operation is on the books,” Riley says. “I was hoping to have sleep deprivation.”
I chuckle at his sarcasm. It’s hardly the first late night we’ve had. “We’ll do a thorough check of the property then go from there.”
“Do you think Irene is wrong and he’s hiding something?”
“I don’t know. But we’re going to find out.”
* * *
“I could get in trouble for this, you know.” Lani reaches into her purse and withdraws a plastic bag with the bloodstained clothes Jane Doe was wearing when we found her. She offers it to me.
“Which is why we appreciate you taking the risk,” Riley replies with a grin. He takes the bag first and opens it then holds the clothes in his hand so his dog Romeo can catch the scent.
“We’ll make sure you get it back,” Bradyn promises as he takes the clothes and repeats what Riley did, this time with his dog, Bravo.
Tucker and Dylan, who only just returned a few hours ago, repeat the process with their dogs, Tango and Delta. Then Dylan hands it to me, so I kneel in front of Echo. Ears perked forward, he leans in and sniffs the dress. “We need answers, bud. Yeah, you got this.” I pet him then stand and offer the clothes back to Lani.
She sticks them into the bag and shoves it back into her purse. “Anything you can find will help. Gibson said they’ve had no luck on the fingerprints or facial ID. They’re still digging, but so far, our Jane Doe is a ghost.”
Isn’t that the truth? Red hair and hazel eyes swim into my memory. Cold, dead hazel eyes that once held such warmth. I shake it off. Stay focused, Hunt. You have a living woman counting on you. There’s nothing you can do for the dead.
“She still hasn’t remembered anything aside from running through the woods?” Bradyn questions.
“Not so far. Kennedy is with her now. She brought her dinner, and we’re hoping that random, easy conversation will help jog something. Gibson has an officer stationed outside her door just in case running her prints alerted whoever shot her that the attempted murder didn’t stick.”
Bradyn nods then looks at the rest of us. “Let’s pray and get this night on.” He bows his head. “Lord, we ask for Your guidance as we search for any signs that can lead us toward answers. Please help us remain steadfast and quiet, and help us to find something that points us in the right direction, Lord. We ask this in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.”
A chorus of “Amen” follows. Then we’re all grabbing our gear and heading for the door. Here’s hoping the black tactical gear will keep us hidden tonight. Even though we have Irene’s permission to enter their property, Lester explicitly told us no. Which means if he catches us, it’ll be bad. I seriously doubt she’ll take our side if we’re caught.
Either way, it’s a risk I’m more than willing to take if it means getting answers.
“I saw trees. Tall trees. It was dark, and I was running.” I recall the memory Jane described to me. She hadn’t remembered much, but it was enough to confirm Lani’s hunch that she was running from whoever shot her. And the trees eliminate all urban areas. Which, to be honest, is a good lead. We’d only suspected she was dumped in the creek; now we know she was there before being shot.
My gut tells me we’ll find something tonight. Whether it’s answers or something else, I’m not sure.
But something is in those woods. I know it.