Chapter 26
Twenty-Six
Sloane
“I think it’s better if I talk to her alone.”
I smile at Jason as I get out of the sheriff’s cruiser.
SAC Bellinger was on the phone at the stroke of seven this morning. He’d seen my emails, both the one I sent before Jeff’s call, and the one I followed it up with after I talked to Dan. He wanted me to go interview Shelby, see what I could find out about her ex without giving her too much information on why we’re looking into him. He suggested I could always use the vandalism on Dan’s home as my excuse for questioning her.
Ewing called shortly after. He’d also spoken with the special agent in charge, and insisted on sending over a deputy to pick me up and drive me to the feedstore. I was a little worried I might’ve been saddled with Frank Schmidt’s miserable mug, but it was Jason who showed up. He’d been at the end of his shift, and kindly volunteered, which was a relief. I had him quickly stop at the office so I could drop off the spray-paint can for the sheriff to dust for prints.
“Sure thing.”
I know she recognizes me when I walk in the door. Her mouth narrows into an angry slit as she watches my approach.
“Shelby Vandermeer? My name is Detective Sloane Eckhart with the Lincoln Sheriff’s Office. I wonder if I could ask you a few questions?”
“What is this about?”
If she’s intimidated or even surprised I’m here in an official capacity, she doesn’t show it. She’s oozing defiance.
“Actually, it’s about Michael Cedric.”
I watch her closely when I mention his name, and she seems surprised.
“Mike? What about him?”
“Michael is your husband, isn’t that right?”
“Ex,” she corrects me. “I divorced his sorry ass last year.”
“Very well, ex-husband. Your ex owns a company I believe?” I flip through an almost empty notebook. “Yes, Cedric Transport.”
She snorts. “Some company, it’s just a stupid delivery truck he drives himself.”
“Did you ever work for him? Take phone calls, schedule deliveries, things like that?”
“No. He did that himself. I had a job, at Watson’s Market in Eureka.” She tilts her head and narrows her eyes on me. “What the hell did he do?”
Hmm . I’m starting to wonder if her ex had anything to do with spraying Dan’s place. She was surprised I brought him up, and so I can’t detect any deception.
I ignore her question and change direction.
“When was the last time you were in contact with your ex?”
She scoffs at that. “That would’ve been the last time he split my lip in the parking lot outside the courthouse in Eureka after the divorce was final.”
I feel a pang of sympathy for the woman. Now I understand a little better why she’d been so eager to hook herself to a good man like Dan.
“Did you report it?”
“Hell no,” she responds instantly. “It would’ve meant another thing to tie me to that man. Nah, I figured it was a small price to pay for being rid of him once and for all.”
“So he never called, never bothered you here?”
Her eyes drift over my shoulder and I see her lips press together. Then she lowers her gaze and straightens a stack of brochures. “No.”
Hmm . Defiantly verbose before, she suddenly seems awfully subdued with that one-syllable response.
She could be lying, and has seen him since, in which case I’d love to know why, but if I push her she might shut down altogether, and I still have some questions I’d like her to answer.
“I only have a few more questions and then I’ll get out of your hair,” I mention, drawing a look of relief from her.
“Sure.”
“Did you often go up to the cabin with him?”
I’m purposely making it sound like I already know she’s familiar with the existence of the cabin.
“That hunting shack he has up on Kenelty Mountain? Hell no. He’d disappear there for days with…uh, with friends.”
She appears to catch herself, which is interesting. Does she know something?
“Anyone in particular?” I prompt.
“No.” She shakes her head firmly for good measure. “Hunting friends, I don’t know them.”
“Does he still go up there? To hunt?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know?” she snaps, annoyed. “Didn’t I tell you I haven’t seen him?”
An older man comes walking through a door that looks to connect with a storage space in the back. His eyes are sharp on me.
“Can I help you with anything?”
Shelby looks uncomfortable. “I’ve got it covered, Dad.”
I get the vibe she doesn’t want her father to clue in on what, or probably who, we were talking about. Not sure why but I understand a little something about family dynamics and decide to give her a break.
“Thank you,” I address Shelby, scribbling my number on an empty page in my notebook and handing it to her. “Give me a call if you think of anything that might be helpful. I appreciate your time.”
With a nod for the older man, I turn and head for the door. I can feel two pairs of eyes burning my back as I hobble outside. So much for a graceful exit.
“Get everything you need?” Jason asks when I get into the cruiser.
“I’m not sure,” I admit. “Sounds like the subject was a dick, who didn’t think twice about hitting her in the middle of the day outside the courthouse. She was forthcoming about that, but I get the sense there’s something more, maybe she was aware of what Cedric was up to. She did suggest he wasn’t up at the cabin by himself, but I never managed to get names because her father walked in. I’ll try her again later, and in the meantime, I left her my number.”
He takes me back to the office, at my request, and I assure him he doesn’t have to wait around for me; I’ll find my way home. If worse comes to worst, I’m sure I can convince my aunt or Ira, who is a mechanic for Pippa at her Pit Stop Auto Shop, to run me home. I know I could call Dan and he’d probably drop everything, but I know he has his hands full today with trades showing up.
Junior is in his office and raises his head when I knock on his doorpost. Folding his hands behind his neck, he leans back in his chair as I walk in.
“How’d it go?”
“Found out our man didn’t think twice to beat on her in public.”
“Not a surprise,” he grumbles.
“She knew of the cabin’s existence; claims she never went up with him but he spent time there with friends .” I use my fingers to make air quotes. “I think she knows something, but I didn’t want to lean too hard and then we got interrupted. Left my number with her, and I can try again.”
“Good. I’d like to have a name for those friends. Bellinger called again, turns out Cedric is in the wind and has been for some time.”
“What do you mean?” I take a seat across from his desk.
“Agents went to check at his address, a rental place, but found new tenants in there. According to the landlord, Cedric forfeited his rent two months in a row, and when he went to collect he noticed mail had piled up with stamps dating back to early November and his pickup was parked outside, but the delivery truck was gone. The landlord ended up putting his belongings in storage and getting the truck towed. The feds discovered he hadn’t been paying his bills and his cell phone account had been suspended since January. Looks like he’s been off the grid for almost a year.”
“Yet we have him and his truck on video,” I point out.
“His truck, yes, but do we know it’s him?”
“Who else?”
Ewing shrugs, “I don’t know, but there were fingerprints found on one of the shells from the bullets that were fired at you that did not match fingerprints on file for Michael Cedric.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“How about this then?” he follows it up with. “I scanned and emailed a thumbprint I was able to pull off that paint can you dropped off, and it was a match.”
“A match to Cedric?”
Junior shakes his head. “A match to one of the prints on the shell.”
This is getting weirder and weirder.
The more we discover, the less we seem to know.
Dan
“That’s seriously fucked up, man.”
I just finished telling Jackson about Shelby, who she was to me, and how she seems to be connected to the spray-painting of my house, and to the guy who was suspected of dumping the bodies found in the gorge.
“You’re telling me.”
We’re just having a bite to eat, sitting under the awning outside the motorhome. It’s a hot day for September, and the shade is a welcome break from the sun.
While the trades are working inside, Jackson and I have been working on removing some stumps from what is to become my yard. Backbreaking work I wasn’t sure Jackson would be up to, but he seems to be getting around okay on his prosthesis and offered to swing an ax to try and sever the roots.
I didn’t stop him. He’s a grown-ass man, and if he’s feeling the need to prove himself still a man, for his own sake or mine, I’m not gonna stop him. Besides, I figure a bit more upper body muscle might come in handy for him.
“Want another one?” I ask with my hand in the cooler Ama ran out of the house this morning to give to me.
Stocked with water, apples, and probably a loaf’s worth of bread in wrapped sandwiches. She must’ve heard Jackson’s here too, although she didn’t mention it.
“Is there another egg salad?”
I dig one up and toss it to him, grabbing a cheese and ham one for myself.
“You haven’t asked.”
It’s a rhetorical question I don’t even need clarification for. I know exactly what he means. What I take from his comment is he feels as uneasy as I do with the proverbial elephant in the room, and has decided to confront it.
“So you can tell me to fuck off? I figure you’ll talk if you want me to know.”
He seems to think on that, and I take the opportunity to take a bite of my sandwich.
“Honestly, aren’t you pissed? Everyone else seems to be,” he adds under his breath.
I fix my eyes on the river and the mountains beyond, trying to remain calm when I feel anything but.
Still, he wants honest, he’s going to get it.
“Fuck, yeah, I’m angry as hell at you. Been tempted to take a swing at you, but the fact of the matter is, I can’t pretend to know what would fucking drive you to do something like that. I’m not in your shoes.”
I can feel him glancing this way but I need a minute to get a handle on my emotions before I turn to look at him.
“Shoe,” he corrects me, with a wink.
I’ll be damned if that doesn’t set me off laughing. “You’re an idiot.”
“I think we’ve established that much,” he responds somberly, before shoving the rest of his egg salad sandwich in his mouth.
The kicker is, when we get back to work a few minutes later, I no longer feel like I’m working side by side with a stranger. If anything, it almost feels like having my old friend back, the short interlude seems to have cleared the air.
The HVAC guys have already left—they’ll be here tomorrow—but the plumber won’t be back until Monday. I’m just watching him get into his truck, when I notice Sully and his daughter walking up the driveway.
“You guys done for the day?” he asks when they reach me.
“I think so. Jackson’s already in the shower.”
I jerk a thumb over my shoulder at the motorhome. He was pretty much done half an hour ago, driving himself too hard, but I figure that’s okay. Sometimes physical pain can drown out psychological pain.
I turn my attention to Carmi. “How’s school?”
She sticks a finger in her mouth and gags. “I hate school. It’s boring.”
I glance at Sully, whose eyes roll skyward. Maybe that wasn’t the right question to ask.
“Where’s Sloane?” Carmi looks around, trying to peek inside.
“Sloane? I don’t know.”
“Dad, I thought you said she was here,” she directs at her father.
“That’s what I assumed when she came by the ranch to borrow the ATV. You haven’t seen her?”
The last is aimed at me.
“Not since last night.”
Another night that ended with both of us at least partly naked, and Sloane sneaking back home so she could wake up with Aspen. But I’m not about to share that.
“Odd. She was supposed to be over for an early dinner with Isobel and the baby. They got there twenty minutes ago, and my sister says she can’t get a hold of Sloane. So, I thought maybe Sloane got hung up here and her phone ran out of juice or something.”
I’m officially tweaked, but I keep a straight face, mostly for Carmi’s sake.
“She’s not been here. Are you sure she came this way?”
“Yeah, I saw her head down the trail here.”
Except there’s a fork in the trail and if you hang right, you end up here, but if you turn left, it takes you straight to the shallow part where we crossed the river on horseback. It should still be shallow enough to do so by ATV.
“You figure she’s gone back up the trail?” Sully asks.
“It’s the only thing I can think of,” I reply. “What time did she leave?”
Sully consults his watch. “Just after lunch, I think it was about two?”
It’s four twenty now.
“Could be work-related,” I suggest, despite the burning in my gut that tells me differently.
Sully nods and is already grabbing for his phone.
“I’ll check with Ewing.”
“In the meantime, I’m gonna go grab Will and have a look up there.”
“Pick up a two-way. I’m gonna walk Carmi home and be right behind you.”
Yeah, I’m not the only one worried.