Chapter 3
AFTER HE left the hospital cafeteria, Marty honestly didn’t expect to hear from Grant again.
He’d driven home expecting that Grant, given what he had told him about his childhood abduction, would simply keep his distance.
But it seemed that wasn’t the case, because he had called him the following day and asked him for a beer at Whiskey Rebellion downtown.
Marty had almost been too surprised to answer, but managed to make his mouth work and accept.
Here he was, dressed nicely in black jeans and a light blue shirt, walking downtown to the lounge inside the Comfort Suites.
It wouldn’t have been his first choice, but they had a good bar with people who knew how to make amazing cocktails.
He took a seat and smiled when the bartender greeted him, ordered an old-fashioned, and found himself glancing at the door every now and then.
After a while, Marty checked the time and was starting to wonder if he had mixed up the day or gotten the time wrong.
But after checking Grant’s text, he had the right day and time, so he figured he’d finish his cocktail and chalk this one up to bad luck.
He took the last of his drink and was about to ask for his bill when Grant hurried inside.
“Sorry. I got delayed at the station, and then I had to take Dexter home.” He sat on the next stool and ordered a Yuengling draft.
“How are you? Sorry I made you wait.” He flashed a smile, and Marty’s annoyance evaporated.
“It’s okay. But don’t do it again.”
“I know. Making people wait is rude. But I have a good excuse.” He waited for the beer.
“We found some traces of the person who took Bobby. Not a lot, but we did find something. We sent what we have to the lab, but that’s going to take some time to get the results.
Still, it’s a huge break in the case. We can check it through the databases… .”
“Basically, if you have a suspect, you’ll have something to check against? That’s a step forward.” He ordered a second drink, his limit. “I checked with the neighbors, put the word out asking if anyone saw anything, but no one seems to have.”
“We asked as well,” Grant said. “Went door to door.”
“I know. But sometimes folks remember things, or they’ll say things on the neighborhood chat that might be interesting.
But so far no one has said anything.” He cradled his empty glass in his hands.
“I know the people where I live, and they rarely miss anything. Someone saw something, but for whatever reason, they’re scared to say anything. ”
“How do you know?”
“Because if anything happens, they share it in the chat. It happens all the time. That’s how I know about anything that goes on.
Lots of people love to talk, and they share quite a bit.
But with all the activity at the house, there hasn’t been much discussion.
I find it kind of unsettling. But if someone did see something and is being quiet, I’ll do my best to find out. ”
“Folks get scared sometimes. But if they don’t help us, then we can’t help them.” Grant’s beer arrived, followed shortly by Marty’s second cocktail. “Anyway, I wanted to share that we’re making progress. But I wish things would move faster.”
“Do you think he’s still out there?” Marty asked.
“Yeah.” He took a swig from his beer. “I think there’s another case that may be related, but I don’t have any proof.
Just something in my gut that keeps telling me that they’re related to each other.
The other little boy hasn’t been found.” Grant’s gaze stayed down at his glass.
“One of the other officers is working that case. Cameron, the boy, has been gone over two weeks. Wes doesn’t think they’re related, so he’s still working that case and I’m working this one, but… .” He took another drink of the beer.
“I wish I had some sort of good news or something to make things better, but I don’t.” Marty said. “I suppose this is the hard part about being a cop. You have to deal with the things that most of us wish we didn’t. But if you think I can help….”
“That’s the thing. I’m working the case the way a policeman should, but somehow I think I need to come at this like a kidnapper. You know—what is he thinking? What does he want?”
Marty shook his head. “No. You need to find this guy’s trail and then get on it.
He made a mistake putting Bobby in that cistern, because we found him.
So you use that.” Marty sipped from his old-fashioned and continued.
“Bobby was last seen in our neighborhood, right? That was why you were searching the area in the first place. And why the empty house was of so much interest.”
“Yes.”
“Where was this other boy last seen?” Marty asked. This was so not how he had expected this evening to go. But now that his mind had found a problem, his analytical nature took over, and he wanted to solve it. “Are there any empty homes in that area?”
“We already searched them,” Grant said.
Marty bumped his shoulder. “And you had already searched the house on our street. Yet when you returned, there was Bobby. It’s a safe bet that Bobby was placed there after the first search.
So what if that’s what’s happened with Cameron?
If that’s the case, your suspect is watching you and placing his victims where you won’t think to look for them…
because you already have.” To Marty, the answer was right there: hide something or someone in plain sight.
Grant’s head snapped up and he pulled out his phone.
“Hey, Red,” he said after pulling up a number.
“Yeah, I know I’m off duty, but I got something.
” He started talking about case reports and things like that.
“Yeah…. There’s that empty store on Bedford.
We searched that location for the missing boy, right?
” He nodded. “Do you think we could search it again?” He explained the logic that Marty had given him.
“I know it’s a longshot, but….” He smiled.
“Okay. I’ll meet you there in fifteen.” He disconnected and got off the stool. “I need to get Dexter and—.”
“I’m going with you,” Marty said, paying his bill. “Don’t think you’re getting out of the evening this easily. I’ll stay outside, but….” He wasn’t going to step away… not now.
Grant sighed. “I’m off duty, so normally I’d be an observer too, but they need Dexter. So you can ride along, but please stay in the car. If there is someone in there, the situation could be dangerous, and neither of us wants the captain breathing down my neck.”
“True.” He didn’t want Grant to get in trouble.
So he followed him out to his SUV and rode with him to his place.
“The closer you get to town, the older the buildings get, so they might have had some way to hold water for household use. They also might have old root cellars or cold rooms in the basement that could have been walled off.”
“How do you know all this stuff?” Grant asked. He seemed to be driving as quickly as he dared.
“The historical society has a lot of the plans and original documents for the town. A lot of them have been gifted over the years, and I find it kind of fun to look up old plans, especially of buildings I know, to see how much they’ve changed.
Like on my street, one of the houses has a cistern as part of the basement with a trap door like mine, but there’s also a cavity under their garage that stores water.
At least, it’s on the plans. Whether it’s still there is another issue. ”
“Have you ever checked out the building we’re heading to?” Grant asked as he pulled to a stop outside a small home on West South Street. He got out and hurried inside, returning with Dexter, who jumped in the back seat and lay down.
“If it’s the one I’m thinking of, the building had long been a furniture store…
and before it became vacant, it was secondhand furniture and vintage stuff, so who knows what kind of repair rooms and workshops there might be.
I never checked on the plans because it was never very interesting.
” He sat back as Grant drove quickly through town.
Bedford Street was one-way, so they needed to approach from the north.
Grant hurried down Bedford and parked behind the two police vehicles outside.
Grant climbed out of the SUV and got Dexter haltered up and ready to go. Marty climbed out of the car and stood near him.
“You brought a friend to this party?” an officer said.
“Red, this is Marty, and he’s a history buff. It was his idea to check the cistern the other day.”
“This was a used furniture store when I moved to town, and it closed soon after. So who knows what’s inside.
But I understand it was a new furniture store for years before that, and old places like that had a lot of workrooms in the basement, including repair shops and even rooms for finish work,” Marty offered.
“Okay. Let’s be quiet. I have permission from the owner to enter the building.
He’s an eighty-year-old man from Virginia whose daughter takes care of him.
So whatever we find, I doubt the owner has anything to do with it,” Red explained.
He unlocked the door, and the police officers, including Grant and Dexter, went inside.
Marty returned to the SUV and got in the passenger seat, closed and locked the doors.
Grant had told him to stay in the car, and he intended to do just that.
He watched the front door of the building, waiting for the others to come out, and after a while he started to wonder if there was trouble and he should call someone.
But then Red emerged from the building. There was no mistaking him, given that the man was huge. Definitely a bear… woof.