Chapter Six
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Lauren’s pulse pounded as she and Jesse strode through the hospital’s automatic doors. Again. But this time, it wasn’t to interview the traumatized woman who’d shown up at the police station.
It was to find out why that woman was now dead.
As they walked, Jesse’s hand hovered near the small of her back, a calm and steady strength as they approached the nurses’ station.
She spotted the security guard, Sal Becker, and a weary-looking doctor, Larry Monroe, in a white coat.
Both the doctor and the guard looked up, recognition and dread, flickering in their eyes.
“You’re here about Miss Joyce,” the doctor said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. The guard moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with him.
“Yes,” Lauren confirmed. “What the heck happened?”
The doctor sucked in a long breath. “An hour before she died, she received a phone call. A nurse brought her the phone. It was someone claiming to be her brother.”
Lauren’s stomach twisted, and Jesse fired off the question on the tip of Lauren’s tongue. “Does she even have a brother?”
Sal shook his head. “Not that we could find in her records.”
It hadn’t come up on the background check that Lauren had run on her either.
“What was said on the call?” Jesse demanded.
“She wouldn’t tell us,” the doctor admitted. “But whatever it was, it upset her. After that, she became withdrawn, stopped answering the nurses when they checked on her. Then…” He hesitated, his voice dropping. “She used her own IV needle to end her life. We tried to save her, but—”
Lauren swallowed hard. “I don’t believe Abilene was suicidal when we were here earlier,” she muttered to Jesse.
“I agree. So, the caller threatened her. Unless…” Jesse looked at the doctor. “We’ll need the number of the person who called her and the security footage to see who went in and out of her room. Every nurse or doctor who had contact with her will need to come into the station and give a statement.”
Dr. Monroe didn’t argue with any of that, and he reached in his pocket and took out a sticky note. “That’s the number, but I’ve already spoken to the nurse who took the call, and she says the caller didn’t give a name, only that he was Abilene’s brother and had to speak to her.”
Lauren immediately took out her phone and ran a check on the number. And her heart went to her knees. She turned her screen so that Jesse could see the name of the caller.
Tim Reardon, the former sheriff who was already a person of interest.
“We need to go see him now,” Jesse insisted.
Lauren didn’t hesitate. “We do.” She looked at the doctor. “Please get everyone into the station for those statements. And we’ll let the sheriff know what’s going on.”
Hallie would need to get another CSI team out here in case someone had managed to walk into Abilene’s room and murder her. The security footage would help with that, too.
As Jesse and she made their way out of the hospital, Lauren stared at the number scribbled on the small slip of paper the doctor had handed her.
Tim Reardon .
She couldn’t shake the chill that slithered down her spine. Of all the people who could’ve called Abilene before she died, why him? And why had he said he was her brother? The man was in his mid-sixties, old enough to be Abilene’s grandfather.
Beside her, Jesse led the way out the ER doors and back toward the police cruiser. The smothering hot air did little to settle the unease twisting in her gut. She climbed into the passenger seat, her fingers tightening around her phone as she pulled up the number and hit dial.
One ring.
Two.
Voicemail.
Her stomach knotted as she listened to the impersonal message. Just Reardon’s gruff voice telling callers to leave a message. She ended the call, frustration burning through her. “Straight to voicemail.”
Jesse’s fingers drummed against the steering wheel. “He could have his phone off. Or he could be ignoring calls.”
“Or someone doesn’t want us to reach him,” Lauren murmured.
Jesse didn’t argue. Instead, he pulled up Reardon’s address on the cruiser’s GPS system. “He lives ten miles from here. We’ll go check it out.”
Lauren nodded, her nerves tightening more with each passing second as Jesse started the engine and pulled onto the road.
Lauren exhaled slowly, trying to shake the memories that were creeping in. This was too close. Too familiar. An abducted woman who looked much as Lauren had sixteen years ago. And now, another lead pulling her deeper into the past she’d tried to outrun.
She made a call to Hallie, filling her in on what had happened. As expected, Hallie jumped into action. By the time Lauren had finished the call, she had no doubts that Abilene’s death would be thoroughly investigated.
After Lauren had put her phone away, she shifted in her seat to look at Jesse. “Let’s play devil’s advocate and assume that Reardon didn’t provoke Abilene into killing herself. If he’s innocent, what reason would he have to call her?”
“Playing devil’s advocate here,” Jesse repeated. His hands tightened on the wheel. “Maybe Reardon knew something about her abduction. Or yours,” he added after a heartbeat.
Lauren swallowed hard and stared out the windshield at the empty stretch of road ahead of them. It wouldn’t be long before sunset. The minutes were just ticking away, and every tick felt like a failure. Because Nicky was still missing. Maybe other young women, too.
And, of course, the abductor was out there, too.
When that reminder brought a fresh avalanche of dread, Lauren had to push it away and focus on what Jesse and she were doing now.
“Maybe Reardon called Abilene to try to find out if Abilene knew anything about what happened to me,” Lauren threw out there. “I mean, Reardon has probably kept up any possible updates since I’m technically a cold case for him.”
“You’re a cold case for a lot of people,” he pointed out. “Outlaw Ridge PD. Dr. Graves. And anybody else who worked the investigation at the time.”
True, and that caused her to sigh. “Are you saying Abilene’s abductor, and mine, could be any one of those people?”
The glance he gave her might be a short, but it conveyed a whole of emotions. Including worry for her.
“I’m saying we need more answers. For now, take a few deep breaths,” Jesse suggested. “Try to level out before we get to Reardon’s place.”
Yes, because she couldn’t charge in there half-cocked. She tried those deep breaths and decided that it wasn’t helping when Jesse spoke again.
“Dr. Graves said I was one of the reasons you were able to hang on while in captivity. I guess you mentioned me to him.”
Oh, that .
Yes, lots of mentioning. In fact, Jesse had played a starring role in her attempts to keep her sanity. And, yes, she had relayed that to the doctor.
“I, uh, just fixed our first date in my head,” she admitted. “I mentally acted it out over and over again. You know, as a way of grounding myself.”
“You acted it out?” he asked, and there was both concern and amusement in his voice.
Lauren let out a rough laugh, shaking her head.
“Yeah. Over and over again. I pictured you waiting for me at Arlo’s.
I imagined sitting across from you, eating a ridiculous amount of pepperoni pizza and arguing about whether pineapple belonged anywhere near it.
” She forced a small smile. “It gave me something normal to hold on to when nothing else made sense.”
Jesse was silent for a moment, and he muttered some frustration-laced profanity. “You should’ve been there, Lauren.” His voice was low, rough. “We should’ve had that night.”
Lauren turned her gaze out the window, the landscape blurring past. “We never got the chance.”
“But we could now.”
The quiet words sent a jolt through her. She turned back to him, but before she could respond, the GPS signaled they were approaching Reardon’s house.
Her stomach twisted as they turned onto a narrow road lined with towering oaks that made it feel as if they were driving through a dark tunnel.
Or a bunker.
That brought on a few flashbacks before the cruiser emerged from the darkness and the house came into view. A white limestone and log single-story home with a wide front porch.
Jesse slowed the cruiser, and they both scanned the house and grounds. There was a red pickup parked in the driveway, and a petite sandy-haired woman in the side yard who appeared to be tending some rose bushes. A Golden Retriever was next to her.
Her head whipped up, her gaze zooming to the cruiser, and the dog started barking. Lauren caught just a glimpse of the woman’s worried face before she set down her pruning shears, caught onto the dog’s collar and started leading him toward the back of the house.
“You think that’s Reardon’s wife?” Jesse asked, coming to a stop next to the truck. “Or maybe his daughter.”
Lauren used her phone to run a quick background on Reardon, got the name of his wife, Belinda, and then did a search on her. “His wife,” she said, after seeing the woman’s driver’s license photo.
But Belinda was certainly young enough to be Reardon’s daughter. Reardon was sixty-three, and Belinda was thirty-seven, only three years older than Lauren and Jesse.
“Belinda’s not from Outlaw Ridge, but she was raised only about ten miles away on a ranch outside of Bulverde. Reardon and she have been married for a little over twelve years,” Lauren went on, reading from Reardon’s background. “No children.”
She had just finished giving Jesse that info when the front door opened.
Tim Reardon stepped onto the porch, the dimming sunlight casting an orange glow across him.
He looked much the same as Lauren remembered—tall, lean, his dark hair now threaded with silver, but his sharp blue eyes still missed nothing.
He was wearing military cargo pants and a black tee.
“Well, well,” Reardon drawled, his gaze moving from her to Jesse when they stepped from the cruiser. “Didn’t expect to see you two.” His eyes lingered on Lauren. “It’s been a long while.”