Chapter Two #2
Admittedly, Charly had never known the department to do anything except its best. Lathan was just cocky. Trying to show out for her and anyone else who might be looking. Some guys were like that.
“I have questions for you.”
The sound of Billie Jagger’s voice drew her attention back to him. “Sure.” Charly gestured to her cabin. “Come on in and I’ll tell you everything I know.”
She stepped onto the porch and walked across it, left the door open for him to follow her inside.
He closed it behind him and she took the opportunity to size him up a little better.
Six feet at least. Broad shouldered. His hair was cut shorter in front but brushed his collar in the back.
Blue eyes, she was pretty sure. When his gaze landed back on her, he gave her the same treatment—a thorough perusal.
Yep, blue eyes. She wore a vintage gray Bradly Retreat tee and equally vintage—aka worn—jeans.
Nothing fancy. Charly had never been a fancy person.
“Can you walk me through your interactions with the Willards from the time the reservation was made until you noticed they were missing?” He moved a step or two closer. “Specific details, please. Dates, times, method of communication. Those sorts of particulars.”
She nodded. “Sure. You want to sit?” She gestured to the sofa.
He walked around to the other side of the sofa but didn’t sit until she did.
Charly took the chair she considered hers—the one her husband had loved—and waited until her visitor had settled on the sofa.
“Briana made the reservation online six weeks ago. A week ago, Friday before last, before their arrival, she called and confirmed all was set.”
He waited through her pause. Said nothing. Only stared at her.
“On Friday, July third, they arrived at about three in the afternoon. They were driving a white Ford SUV. A rental from an agency at the Huntsville airport. Both were literally beaming.” She smiled at the memory of the happy couple.
“It was obvious they were madly in love and excited for this getaway.”
He slipped his cell phone from a jacket pocket and searched for something before getting up and walking over to where she sat. “Was this the couple who checked in?”
The question startled Charly but then again, she supposed it was a good one to ask.
Obviously, she had been provided with the husband’s driver’s license when he arrived, but she supposed it could have been a fake.
She studied the photo on his phone. Briana and Martin were smiling widely, still sporting their wedding attire.
“Yes. That’s them.”
Billie put his phone away and resumed his seat. “Did you see or speak with either of them after they checked in?”
Charly replayed the weekend, then yesterday. Taking her time as she sifted through the memories. “No. As far as I am aware they never left the cabin once they arrived.”
He digested this information. “Are there delivery services available? Like DoorDash?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “A couple, in fact. DoorDash and Uber Eats. Some restaurants have their own delivery as well.”
“Do you know if they used any of those services?”
Charly wished she’d had cameras put in ages ago, but she and Alex had worried that their guests wouldn’t like the intrusion. “I can’t say one way or the other. I don’t have cameras here and I’m not always where I can see comings and goings.”
Another lengthy pause. “When the deputies were in the cabin, did they take the trash?”
“I can’t be sure. They sent me back here.” Charly frowned. “But when they returned they had nothing with them. The forensics guy stopped by on his way out, and he didn’t mention taking anything. And I didn’t see anything.”
“The trash might tell us if they had food delivered.”
Charly nodded. She should have thought of that. “You’re right. We could go have a look.”
He stood. “I would appreciate that.”
Charly grabbed her keys. “We’ll take Lola.”
He didn’t ask but she saw the question on his face. She smiled to herself. He’d know the answer soon enough. She climbed into the UTV and waited while he did the same on the passenger side. Lola didn’t have doors but that was okay with Charly. Made getting in and out much easier.
She drove to the parking area, which she pointed out to him, and then on to the Willow.
The sun had set, and it would be dark soon.
Too late to search tonight but she would start first thing in the morning.
As Cohen had explained, unless there were obvious indications of foul play or extenuating circumstances like a vulnerable adult, missing persons reports would have to wait a full twenty-four hours, which was stupid in Charly’s opinion.
But at least there was a family member here to provide incentive.
She walked to the door and unlocked it, but Billie didn’t follow.
Instead, he walked around the corner of the cabin.
Charly shrugged and followed his path. He checked each window he encountered.
Inspected the patio door on the screened deck.
Then checked the remaining windows as he made his way back around front.
As he walked, he carefully surveyed the ground.
She supposed he was looking for areas of trampled grass and wildflowers where someone might have stared through a window.
Once they were inside, she waited while he took a tour of the cabin.
He thoroughly examined every cabinet, drawer, nook and cranny.
The small trash can beneath the sink revealed a bag delivered by a DoorDash driver.
He removed the sales receipt that was still attached, looked over it and then tucked it into his pocket.
“They received a food delivery on Saturday night.”
Charly nodded. It was a starting place at least. That one piece of paper suggested they had been in the cabin on Saturday night.
Billie conducted the same thorough perusal of each room.
He sniffed their shampoo. The soap and the toothpaste.
She might have been startled but she’d read enough mystery novels to understand he was looking for some sort of poison or sedative that may have been added to their products.
The idea that he knew what he was doing a little too well crossed her mind. Was he a cop? A private investigator?
Seemed reasonable.
When he finally appeared to be satisfied he’d seen everything, she asked, “What do you think?”
“I think I need to stay here until I find my sister and her husband.”
Charly nodded. “Of course. I’m sure you’re very worried.” Actually, it was difficult to say. He seemed intent. Focused. He’d shown few other emotions. She was extremely worried herself.
“I would like the cabin closest to this one if it’s available.”
Oh, so he literally meant he wanted to stay here. “Of course. Sure. The other guests all checked out yesterday. I haven’t cleaned number seven but number five, the Treehouse, is ready.”
“Treehouse?” His expression told her he wasn’t sure what she meant.
“It’s exactly what it sounds like.” Cabin five had been Alex’s baby.
A treehouse. He’d seen an article on the topic in some magazine and decided they had to have one.
“It’s a cabin but it’s suspended between two massive trees.
The stairs up to it wind around one of the trees.
It’s quite unique and gives you a bit of a view from above. ”
“Sounds perfect.”
“I’ll take you back to your SUV and get the key from the office.”
As they drove back, she pointed out the parking spot for the Treehouse. Of course there was a sign but it was getting darker. Better to be sure he had a grasp on the location.
At the office while he waited, oddly patiently, she put together a basket.
She was sure he hadn’t brought anything with him for this sort of situation, so she packed bottled water and a couple of sodas as well as chips and other snacks.
Luckily, she had a few power bars. For good measure she tossed in a couple of candy bars. The wicked sugary, chocolatey kind.
When she felt she had put together a decent offering, she thrust the basket at him. “I figured you weren’t prepared for this sort of lodging.”
He accepted the basket. “Thanks.”
She followed him onto the porch. She’d been right. It was mostly dark now. A big moon and blanket of stars provided some amount of light. There was little artificial lighting around the retreat.
She had to know one thing before they parted ways for the night. “Billie.”
At the bottom of the steps, he paused and turned back to her.
“It is possible they just took off for an unexpected excursion and left a message for me at the wrong number.” She shrugged. “Maybe they’re coming back tomorrow.”
His somber gaze was answer enough even before he spoke. “Doubtful.”
Fifteen years she had been running this place. From the days of renting out spots for tents and small campers to the build of each of the cottages. Not once—ever, ever, ever—had a guest been injured or robbed or bothered in any way.
She sure as hell had never lost one.
“You—” she shrugged again “—believe we need to be worried, I mean really worried, about them.”
“Yes.”
And then he was gone.