Chapter 21
In a quiet residential neighborhood, Gabe followed El and Silas Tinsley up a winding staircase of a large older home now turned into a group home.
They were heading to Tinsley’s office on the third floor.
Gabe had hoped they would catch a look at the rooms, but every door was closed.
Probably for security or privacy, but it still gave Gabe a bad feeling.
Tinsley’s posh office, when the rest of the place was rundown, immediately made Gabe dislike the guy.
Or maybe Gabe was searching for a reason to dislike him.
He looked just like the picture El had shown Caitlyn—his blond hair styled perfectly, his suit tailormade—but that wasn’t Gabe’s issue.
He disliked the way he held his head, chin in the air, as if he were superior to everyone around him.
And the fact that his office was flashy and his clothing expensive when the rest of the property needed obvious repair seemed sketchy.
Maybe he should just cut his salary that paid for his clothing and use it to make the needed repairs.
He pointed to two chairs by a sleek glass desk and told them to sit when he should be apologizing for keeping them waiting for nearly an hour before agreeing to see them. A power play, or was he getting his story together regarding Kenna’s death and Lucy’s abduction?
He sat in a white leather chair behind the desk. “Is this about one of our children?”
“We’re here to talk to you about your organization,” El said, relaxing in her chair, as if this interview wasn’t important.
“Safe Harbor?” He blinked rapidly. “What about it?”
“We’d like to know what exactly you do and how it functions.”
“But why?”
El smiled, but it was forced. “This visit is more of a formality. The charity’s name has come up in one of our investigations, and we just need to cover our bases.”
“Oh.” He exhaled, his thin chest sagging even more. “I was worried it had something to do with one of the children.”
“Rest assured, it doesn’t,” El said. “Please give us an overview of this place and the charity.”
“It’s all really straightforward. Jonas Trent…do you know who he is?”
El and Gabe both nodded.
“You may not know he adopted two boys from here. That was when he learned we were really struggling financially and might have to close. So, he and his wife started a charity for helping children in need, but the main purpose was to designate the money for Safe Harbor.”
“Who decides where the money goes?” Gabe asked.
“The board of directors, but Trent is the chairman, and they pretty much do what he suggests.”
The perfect situation for a perfect storm, and Gabe was beginning to think they should be looking at Trent, not Tinsley. “I don’t suppose Safe Harbor has any income other than money from the charity.”
“That’s correct.”
“Tell me about how these funds are funneled to you,” El said.
“Simple, really. We receive quarterly checks from New Tide’s accountant.”
“The accountant’s name?” El sat with her pen poised over her notepad.
He tapped his finger on the desk a few times, then shook his head. “What difference does it make if I give it to you? You’ll find out, anyway. His name is Patrick Sloan.”
“Phone number?” El asked.
Tinsley looked at his phone and gave her the digits.
She wrote them down and looked back at him. “Address?”
“I don’t know exactly what it is, but he works out of the New Tide office across the parking lot.”
“Who handles the money on this end?” she asked.
“Our bookkeeper. Her office is down the hall, but she only works part-time and isn’t here until tomorrow.” He took a long breath. Let it out slowly. “So, this is about our finances?”
“Leave no stones unturned and all of that.” El smiled in a way that would relax an innocent interviewee, but Tinsley tensed. “About audits. How often are they done, and by whom?”
“We’ve had one. I’m not exactly sure who did it, but Jonas Trent hired an outside accounting firm and he interfaced with the auditors. I think it was maybe a year and a half ago. I can get out my records if you’d like, but I have a very busy day and would like to move on. What else can I answer?”
“You had an admin volunteer named Kenna James. Did you know her?”
“Had? Did?” He batted his eyes, and his face held either the best innocent look an actor could create or he was honestly surprised. “Did something happen to her?”
“You haven’t heard? She was murdered,” El said as plainly as if she were telling him Kenna went on vacation.
He startled. “Who would want to kill such a lovely young woman?”
“That’s what we aim to find out,” Gabe said, his tone more insistent, to try to get this guy to quit stalling and answer the question.
“But you think it had something to do with our place?” He snapped the back of his chair forward and rested his hands on the desk. “Is that why you’re here?”
“If you know she was a lovely young woman, it sounds like you knew her pretty well,” Gabe said. “Did you work in close contact with her?”
“I don’t know if I’d say close contact, but she acted in an admin capacity, so yes, we worked together. Mostly via notes or emails, but in person on the nights I worked the late shift.”
El scribbled a note on her pad. “Anyone else work directly with her?”
He shook his head. “You’re not suggesting I had something to do with her death.”
“No, but since you mention it, where were you on Friday evening between seven and ten p.m.?”
“Friday?” He closed his eyes for a moment. “Sorry, I’m just so stunned. I can hardly think. At the movies. Yes, I was with my family. My wife and two kids can verify that.” He named the movie and gave details of what happened in it, including the ending.
He was giving way too much information, the hallmark sign of someone who had something to hide. The guy was either giving them half answers or over-answering. Seemed like he wanted to play cat and mouse.
Fine. Gabe excelled at games, and he always played to win.
El walked alongside Tinsley, with Gabe behind them, as they strolled through Safe Harbor’s main floor. So far, they’d seen a large living room with shabby couches, a TV, board games, and worn books. They stepped into a hallway.
El believed Tinsley was holding back, and she needed to get him talking more to trip him up if he was lying. “I appreciate your willingness to give us a tour.”
“Like I said, my day is filled, and it has to be fast.” He pointed at a closed door with a bulletin board mounted on the front. “Staff office. This is where the bookkeeper I mentioned works. Also, our admin volunteers.”
“Looks like no one’s here today.”
“That’s normal. We’re very conscious of people with families and schedule our staff and volunteers for three- or four-day weekends whenever we can. If they do have to work on Monday or Friday, we make sure it’s only a half day.”
El didn’t know if this was significant, but she made a note of it. “Tell me about your other paid staff members.”
“We have a house manager. She let you in the door and called me. She runs the place in the daytime, and we alternate evenings, ensuring a manager’s on duty at all times.
There are two staff on shift at a time. One awake overnight.
The other asleep, but on call. They rotate.
That’s all. We have limited funds. Means we have a lean, but very effective staff. ”
“I’d like a list of their names, addresses, and phone numbers.”
“I’ll get one to you, but don’t be surprised if it changes the next day. Turnover in daily workers is high in this industry.”
Probably even higher working in a shabby place like this for a guy like you.
“Did a man named Howard Mason work for you?”
He swung his gaze to El. “No, am I supposed to know that name?”
“Not necessarily,” El said. “How many children do you serve?”
“Usually six, but we can house up to eight.”
Fewer than El had thought, and it explained the smaller staff. “Does anyone from the state evaluate your program?”
“Well, of course, we had to be approved before opening and obtain a license. It’s renewed every two years after an on-site inspection. Plus, we have a caseworker who visits periodically and a therapist who comes in weekly.”
He bolted ahead, put his hand on a doorknob, and turned back to look at them. “This last room is for high needs or new placements. It’s currently vacant and you can take a look.”
He opened the door to reveal a meagerly decorated room with a dresser, single bed with the bedding folded on top, and a desk.
Stained vinyl tiles covered the floor, and a white roller shade shielded the only window.
All in all, a very depressing room. The only thing that saved it was the cheerful yellow walls.
“There,” he said. “You’ve seen the main floor and my office. The first and second floors are bedrooms like this, only with two of everything. Nothing else to see, and I’ll escort you to the door.”
El planted her feet. “I’d like to see one of the double rooms.”
“Fine,” he said. “We have a vacant double on the second floor where our girls stay.”
He charged back down the hall and up the stairway. He used a key card to unlock the main door. They stepped into a hallway. Once again all the doors were closed, but these were decorated with bright posters and fun pictures by the residents.
“How do children come to stay here?” she asked.
“We take placements from social services for children who most foster homes don’t want to deal with. Kids who are neglected or abused or have behavioral issues. We also provide temporary placements referred by social workers.”
Such a shame that these children had already been through so much then had to live in such a depressing place. If she believed donating money to the home would perk the place up, she’d do it, but she only feared Tinsley would use it for his office or his needs.
Tinsley jutted out his chin. “Are you satisfied now, and I can get back to my work?”
“Yes, thank you for the tour,” El said.
He walked out the door, his pace brisk in the hallway. She followed, Gabe behind her. Three early teen girls were walking toward them, heads bowed together and chatting.
Tinsley didn’t seem to notice them, but continued down the hall.
El said hello in passing and continued after Tinsley. One of them tugged on the back of her jacket, stopping her. El turned.
The girl glanced in Tinsley’s direction then stepped closer and motioned for El to lower her head.
“We need help,” she whispered, abject fear in her eyes. “They take kids who don’t have anyone. Kids like me.”
El couldn’t be more shocked and didn’t know how to respond.
Was this girl telling the truth?
El opened her mouth to ask her name.
“Girls!” Tinsley bellowed down the hall at them. “Move along now. You should be in class. And you, Detective, should be on your way.”
“Please help,” the girl whispered and rushed away with the others, who also gave El a silent plea as they passed by.
El followed them down the hall. Was this girl right? Were they actually taking kids for some purpose? Maybe trafficking them or selling them for adoption? Should she believe the girl?
She didn’t know, but one thing was sure. She had to follow up. Not only for the children’s sake, but because it could be related to their investigation, and the reason Kenna had been murdered.