Chapter Ten #3
“No, that’s wrong, Rob,” his wife spoke up. “Lara was thirteen years ago. The one you’re thinking of was Michele Colton. She was twelve years ago. But Kerrick was there all three times. You mentioned that to the sheriff, but he didn’t seem to think it was relevant.”
Charly mentally ticked off the names of the nine they knew about.
Francesca Andrews, Tina Dayton, Peyton North, Lara Young, Michele Colton, Ella Franklin, Janet Miller, Hilary Trenton.
And Briana Willard. All blond-haired white females with blue eyes.
As well as three male boyfriends or husbands, including Martin.
All these missing people with unresolved cases had been captured on video at the same stop as Kerrick Rogers.
Maybe it was coincidence as he wanted them to believe.
But Charly didn’t believe it for a second and she knew for certain Billie didn’t, either.
This was wrong and the sheriff was ignoring it!
It took every ounce of strength Charly had to keep this to herself.
“You don’t happen to still have copies of the videos?” Billie asked.
Charly didn’t breathe until his question was answered.
“No. As I said, I turned copies over to Malone in each instance and then I just let the system overwrite itself after that. But those three visits, once each, were the only times those girls came into my place during their stay in Guntersville.”
“Do you remember anything specific about any of those three occurrences?” Charly asked. “Any trouble or behavior that caught your eye while they were in your store?”
“Well,” Rob said, “not really. Not that I can recall anyway.”
“You did say,” Mrs. Decker reminded him, “that one boy watched every move the Franklin girl made.”
Rob nodded. “That’s true but she was a looker and any man still breathing would have been looking.”
Mrs. Decker shook her head. “Men,” she muttered.
“Was that Kerrick Rogers?” Billie asked.
“No,” Rob said. “That was Lenny Reed. He was practically foaming at the mouth watching Ella Franklin like a mad dog about to pounce on a victim.”
Lenny Reed. The man Laney Rogers had mentioned.
“Lenny does that to all the girls,” Mrs. Decker said. “That boy was a mess. But that new wife of his has straightened him out pretty good. He goes to church every Sunday now.”
A new wife and church every Sunday didn’t rule him out in Charly’s book.
“I can’t believe the sheriff hasn’t found anything.” Rob shook his head. “It’s just like the others. It’s as if they vanish into thin air with no evidence left behind.”
“It’s hard to believe it can keep happening over and over,” Charly mentioned.
“It is,” Rob said. He looked to Billie. “My question is when are we going to have better methods in a case like this? There has to be a way.”
“No question,” Billie agreed, then he passed Mr. Decker one of his cards. “Please call me if you or Mrs. Decker think of anything at all you believe might help me in my search for Briana and her husband.”
“Count on it,” Mr. Decker assured him.
On the way to the door the two said again how sorry they were and how their thoughts and prayers would be with Billie and his family.
Charly suddenly wondered about Billie’s family. The Willards’, too. They must be devastated as well. She could only imagine how his parents felt.
When they were in his SUV, she forced her mind to move on to the necessary business and said, “Next stop is the home of Paul Grant, lifelong bachelor and revered pit master.”
“Just tell me where to turn.”
Grant Residence
Val Monte Drive, 7:50 p.m.
PAUL GRANT LIVED in a first-floor condo right on the lake. Unlike Rob’s place, this one was very new. Very contemporary and quite expensive. His home was mere yards from the water and very near popular restaurants as well as his own, the Pit—a renowned barbecue restaurant.
Paul was a good man. When her parents were murdered, he’d brought prepared meals to her and Jen for weeks.
When Jen had gone back to college, Paul had checked on Charly regularly.
Anytime she needed to cater an activity for her guests, Paul always came through with great food and a good deal.
He was like an uncle. And he’d loved Alex.
They’d spent many Saturday afternoons on the water fishing.
And when Alex died, Paul had been there for her all over again. He was kind and generous.
Billie rang the doorbell.
Almost immediately, the man’s voice came to them via the speaker in his video doorbell. “May I help you?”
“Hey, Mr. Grant. It’s Charly. I hope we’re not interrupting your evening.”
“Charly!” Five seconds later the door opened. He looked from Charly to Billie and back. “Come on in here. It’s been too long.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Life gets in the way.” Charly followed him inside, Billie close behind her.
He gave her a hug. “How have you been doing?”
“I’m good,” she said. “Staying busy with the cabins.”
“Good. Staying busy is the best route for moving on.” He looked to Billie.
“This is Billie Jagger,” she explained. “His sister, Briana, and her husband were staying at my place when they disappeared. I’m sure you’ve seen the news. Sheriff Malone held a press conference about them.”