Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Guiding Rogue towards the park entrance, I pulled out my phone and searched The Commons Café, finding it easily enough and deciding I had enough time to drive Rogue home first.
Twenty minutes later I walked up to the entrance to The Commons Café, puzzling over the mystery of what kept setting Rogue off.
There didn’t seem to be a pattern yet other than the fact both times had been around men, but I was determined to figure it out, for his sake as much as mine.
I hated having to leave him home simply because I wasn’t confident that I could keep him under control and he scared the people around him.
I stepped through the front doors of the café and glanced around.
The space was quaint, a few comfortable-looking egg chairs hanging from the ceiling amongst the normal seating.
Gracie had already arrived, and I found her standing in line behind a behemoth of a man carrying a guitar on his back and paying in crumpled ones.
“Oh, hey!” she said as I stepped up beside her. Before either of us could say anything else the man with the guitar moved to the side and then it was our turn. Gracie insisted on buying my coffee, despite my weak protests. Considering how little savings I had I didn’t bother arguing it further.
Once we were both seated, Gracie clutching a dirty chai latte like it was the only thing keeping her grounded and my own iced caramel latte cooling me down after my run, she leaned forward and spoke softly.
“Thank you again for doing this,” she said. “I know talking about a missing person you have no connection to whatsoever is not the way you planned to spend your afternoon.”
“She was your cousin, and you’re my friend,” I replied, though friend was a bit of a stretch at this early stage.
Agreeing to talk about Lexi’s case felt a little selfish, in a way.
The chances that I could solve it when plenty of other people couldn’t was arrogant at best, but I knew deep down that I was doing this because I needed it just as much if not more than Gracie did.
I couldn’t help but wonder why she had chosen me to be the one to talk to about the case.
Surely with a friend like Kenna in her corner, the two of them had discussed it from every angle already.
Still, I wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity sitting in front of me.
“Tell me about her case, from the beginning. Everything you know, and then everything you suspect but can’t prove. ”
“What we know is that my cousin, Alexandra Tate, went missing seven years ago. I was the last person to see her at a family dinner, where she seemed agitated and distracted. I walked her to her SUV and asked her what was going on but she brushed me off and left. No one saw her again after that and by the time the police let us submit a missing person’s report, all trace of her was gone.
“The investigation showed that she had drained her bank account that week,” she said, and my eyes widened in surprise at the first indication I’d gotten that her disappearance might not have been an accident on the trail.
I leaned in, listening closely as Gracie continued, “and her landlord claimed she had paid three months of rent in cash. Her SUV was nowhere to be seen, and half her things were missing. Everything pointed to her going somewhere and not telling any of us. Except, that wasn’t like her.
Lexi and I went through med school together.
She told me everything, adored Hadley, and never missed a call.
Like I told you, her Find My Friends showed that she was out near Good Dog Trail.
Her phone was found a week after she went missing, floating in a waterproof case in the Deschutes River out by the Benham Falls Trailhead.
Her—” She took a breath to steady herself, the memory obviously still causing her pain.
“Her dismembered and decomposed hand was found at the Big River campground three years later.”
“Was there any other evidence that she went missing on either the Good Dog or Benham trails?” I asked, frowning.
“No, but she was a survivalist and she was always vocal about being careful on hikes, telling people where you were going, and packing out what you brought with you.”
“Did Kenna manage to find anything? Anything the police missed?”
“Kenna actually hired another P.I. before she got her license and then apprenticed under him. The two of them went through all of Lexi’s things after we put them in storage, but nothing turned up,” Gracie told me, confirming what I had already suspected.
Kenna and I were alike in how we’d reached a career in professional investigations.
That was just about where our similarities ended, though.
“And the P.I. she hired, Kahele, thought he found Lexi’s SUV about a year ago, based on a picture of a particular dent in the back door, but the seller took down the listing before we could get in contact with them and without the VIN the police wouldn’t take it seriously. ”
“What about your ex?” I pointed out, “Was he unable to sway the police towards further investigation?”
“Lachlan tried,” Gracie answered. “Trust me, he absolutely tried. They almost fired him for insubordination and warned him that if he misused his access to dig into a case that wasn’t his, they would make sure he never worked another investigation again.”
“Wow,” I said. That seemed like a strong response to trying to find a missing woman.
A part of me had to wonder if someone in the police was involved in Lexi disappearing.
I didn’t offer that suggestion, though. If it was true, there was little that Gracie could do about it and if it wasn’t I would only be creating distrust based on my own negative experiences with the law.
“I don’t know what else to try,” Gracie whispered, wrapping her hands around her tea and staring at me like I would have the answer. As much research as I’d done, as much training as I’d gone through to specialize my degree, I’d never actually solved a cold case before. At least, not on my own.
Now I had a surplus of cold cases that I was connected to, and no answers for any of them. My mother’s death, Monica’s murder, and now Gracie’s missing cousin. I was drowning in missing puzzle pieces and questions left unanswered, and I could see from the look in Gracie’s eyes that she was too.
There was only one path forward, only one thing an investigator could do when they hit a dead end. It was all I could offer to Gracie now, with the hope that it would be enough.
“Okay,” I said, taking another sip of my latte and leaning forward across the table. “Let’s go back to the beginning, that night at dinner —.”
I cut myself off as I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket.
Considering there were only two people who knew my number, I knew this wasn’t a call I could ignore.
I raised a finger, pulled my phone out, and frowned at the caller ID.
There was no name attached to the number, and yet my screening system hadn’t rejected it.
There was every chance that Noah was calling me from a different phone number—that the truth had come out and he was now on the run. That he was trying to warn me before the FBI found me.
“Give me a second. I have to get this,” I said, and Gracie nodded. I gave her a grateful smile and answered. “Hello?”
“Hi,” a vaguely familiar man’s voice said from the other end of the line. “I think I have your dog.”
“What?” I said, the gears in my mind screeching to a halt. Of all the things to be called about, this was one I hadn’t expected. Rogue was supposed to be curled up on the bed at home.
“I was driving down Highway 97 and saw a dog wandering down the sidewalk,” the man said. “I pulled over because I didn’t see anybody with him and I was concerned. He’s a real sweetheart. The name tag on his collar had your phone number.”
“How did he get out?” I asked, though it was clearly a question for myself. This man couldn’t possibly know where Rogue had been or how he’d gotten out. “I mean—I believe you. I just can’t imagine a way he might have gotten out.”
“I’ve got some free time if you’d like me to bring him to you,” the man offered.
“Oh, no,” I said, shaking my head even though he couldn’t see me. I met Gracie’s gaze, giving her an apologetic wince before continuing. “I’m not too far from home. I’d be happy to come get him myself, if you don’t mind waiting there. Where along Highway 97 are you guys?”
I watched Gracie give me an understanding smile and begin to gather her things as the man identified the businesses nearby. Once I had a good idea of where they were, I thanked him and hung up, gathering my things as well.
“I am so sorry,” I said, but Gracie only shook her head. “My dog got out. Someone just found him on the highway.”
“These things happen,” she replied. “Besides, I’ve taken up enough of your time. Thank you for being willing to talk to me about this.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to be more help,” I told her.
The truth was, now that I had the details of the case, I desperately wanted to know more.
On the surface it seemed like her cousin had simply broken her own rules about the buddy system, gotten hurt or fallen into the river, and died of exposure.
But these new details pointed to something else going on.
“You did help,” Gracie said. “It’s incredibly therapeutic to be able to talk about these things—especially with the anniversary of her disappearance coming up.”
“I hope you find the answers you’re looking for,” I replied, and then I was headed off to go collect my dog—and figure out how the hell he had gotten out in the first place.