Chapter 41
Jayna was still missing. Over 24 hours had passed without a word.
Derek sat at the bar, his eyes scanning every man in the pub. Burke had asked him to compile a list of anyone he’d noticed watching Jayna. Every man in this bar with a pulse and a functioning libido would have watched her. Jayna was stunningly beautiful. She was funny and full of life. He winced at the phrase. She was going to be alright. She had to be.
His stomach churned, and he stared at the untouched whiskey in front of him. He needed to keep his mind clear. What he needed to do was stop drinking before it became a problem. The past few years, since everything with his brother, he’d been drinking a lot. It was time to quit. His liver would thank him, and Jayna needed him.
His gaze shifted to the small notebook on the bar top. He’d written only two names on the page—the same two he had already given to Burke; Lance and Duncan. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d never open the door to Duncan. That brought him straight back to Lance.
Burke said Lance had an airtight alibi. Duncan, on the other hand, had missed another shift. The man had disappeared.
This was a complete waste of time. Derek slapped a ten-dollar bill beside his untouched drink, grabbed the notebook and his keys, heading out.
Five minutes later, he pushed open the glass door of the Blythe Landing Police Station. He strolled in, ignoring the officer at the front desk. Derek walked down the corridor toward Burke Winston’s office, and he raised his hand to knock on the closed door. Hell with that! He turned the knob and entered.
Burke glanced up from the pile of papers strewn across his desk. “Derek?”
How was the man sitting there so calmly?
“Burke,” Derek’s jaw clenched. “It’s been over 24 hours.”
“We are doing everything we can.” Burke’s voice was a mixture of weariness and concern.
Derek ran a hand through his hair. “Sitting at your desk pushing papers around is not doing everything you can! Every second that passes…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
Burke sighed and leaned back in his chair. “There are officers canvassing Jayna’s neighborhood, checking her usual spots, talking to anyone who might have seen something. We’re following up on every lead, no matter how small.”
Derek’s fists tightened at his sides. “What about Duncan? Once again, he didn’t show up to work.”
“We’re looking into that. But Duncan doesn’t have any known connections to Jayna besides working at a bar that she frequents. We don’t have any evidence to link him to her disappearance.”
“No evidence?” The words came out clipped. Derek was barely managing to control the explosion of emotion that was threatening to erupt. “How about the fact that he’s vanished? Isn’t that suspicious enough?”
Burke nodded slowly. “I agree that it’s suspicious, Derek. But we can’t act on suspicion alone. We need something concrete.”
“Concrete?” Derek spit out. “Jayna is missing. The guy was clearly obsessed with her. He is nowhere to be found. That’s concrete enough for me.”
A knock sounded on Burke’s open door and an officer poked his head in. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to speak to you. Privately.”
Burke raised an eyebrow at Derek, who remained seated. “Don’t get up! I’ll just leave MY office.” His chair scraped as he shoved it back and stood, sending an annoyed glance at Derek.
The minute Burke left the office, Derek leaned forward and spun the thick file folder around. It was the report on Jayna. He quickly read through it. The same footprints around Jayna’s bedroom window had also been found around Greta Cochrane’s. The tread matched EMS Station boots issued to paramedics. Size 10. Lance Roman wore size 10. Interesting. The police were investigating the man despite Burke’s denial.
The county had donated a surplus of these boots to the Salvation Army Thrift Store. Duncan had bought a pair, according to the store clerk. A search of Duncan’s locker at work found a pair of running shoes he’d left behind. Size 10.
He flipped the page. It was Greta’s report. Burke must believe the two cases were linked. Derek’s hands shook as he continued reading. Large amounts of Ketamine had been found in Greta’s bloodstream. The woman had been kept alive for over 78 hours after going missing before she was injected with a lethal dose of Ketamine. Time was ticking.
“You can’t read that.” Burke grabbed the folder, flipping the manilla cover shut.
“Too late,” Derek stood. “So, let’s go find Duncan. He’s the one.”
“He’s not the one,” Burke said as he eased into his chair. “Duncan’s body was found in the trunk of his car. He’s been dead for over 48 hours.”
“What?” Derek pinched the bridge of his nose. “Then, it’s Lance. He would have access to Ketamine.”
“And so does every drug dealer in the country. Anyone could purchase it in a back alley.” Burke shook his head. “Lance didn’t do this.”
“Yeah, yeah. You cleared him. But Duncan is dead.” Derek swallowed hard. “Do you have any other suspects?”
Burke’s mouth remained firmly shut.
“Let’s go, Columbo!” Derek stood.
“I don’t take orders from you,” Burke told him.
“Fine. Stay. I’m going to see Jamie and solve this case.”
“You’re not a cop.” Burke stood as well and grabbed his hat off his desk. “It’s not your job to ‘solve this case’.”
Derek rushed to the front of the station. Burke increased his pace to catch up.
“You’ll just mess it up,” Burke called after him .
“Or maybe I’ll find Jayna,” Derek said, pausing by the door to glance at the cop. “I know it’s a long shot, Burke, but I can’t just sit back and wait.”
“And you think that a psychic can solve this?” Burke threw his hands up in the air. “Derek, psychics aren’t real.”