“Guilty as charged,” he said, followed by a gruff snicker. “I just drove to Alber today to see the family and stopped to tell Gerard howdy, when all hell broke loose. Thought I’d stay for the fireworks.”
“Always looking for good entertainment, I gather,” I said.
“Why not? These are small towns. Nothing much happens. Gotta have a little excitement when I can,” Evan said, more of a sneer than a smile on his wide face. “But this is my town, too. I was chief here a long time, and our family lives here. I’m interested.”
“So am I,” I said, turning to Gerard. “And what I’m interested in is why you removed my listing from NCIC.”
“Because your sister’s not missing,” Gerard said. “I explained last night that—”
“You explained that you didn’t see Delilah. She wasn’t at the house,” I countered. “All you know is what my mother told you: that she sent a twelve-year-old all the way to Salt Lake on a mission, alone.”
“Not alone, with a family,” Gerard said.
“Yes, that’s right. Thank you for correcting me,” I said. “Did you get the family’s name? A phone number? Anything we can use to verify?”
Gerard looked over at Max, as if questioning if he was somehow involved with my rant. Max shrugged, but then agreed with me. “I don’t think the detective is wrong here, Chief. Like I said, we should ask Ardeth or Sariah—”
“Max, this isn’t any of your business. The sheriff handed this case over to my brother,” snapped Evan. He had been relaxed up till now, apparently enjoying the show, but Max’s support for my suggestion had changed his mood. I had the distinct impression that Evan didn’t support any further investigation into Delilah’s whereabouts.
To my relief, Max didn’t back off. “But Clara has a point. Another short meeting with Ardeth or Sariah, and we can put this to rest.”
Evan ignored Max and turned to his brother. “Gerard, you gonna let this woman tell you how to run a case?”
“Detective Jefferies is just worried about her sister. I understand that—” Gerard started.
“Don’t call her Detective. In Alber, she’s nothing more than a private citizen.” Evan’s sarcasm seeped into each word. “I must be wrong, Gerard—I thought you were the chief in this town.”
Gerard looked over at his brother with eyes as big as a raccoon caught in a trap, before he turned to me and said, “Clara, Evan’s right. You have no jurisdiction in Alber. You shouldn’t be meddling in police matters. As I said before, I need you to stand down on this.”
“And if I don’t?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” Gerard looked at me blankly, as if he truly didn’t understand.
“Are you going to look for my sister? Will you make sure Delilah is safe?”
Mullins piped up this time. “The chief’s in charge here, not you, Miss Jefferies. You need to head back to Dallas. We’ll let you know if there’s anything in Alber that needs your attention.”
“That so?” I commented, looking over at Max. A moment earlier, he’d been my only supporter. But this time – no help. Instead Max focused on his phone, and he appeared to be reading something that wasn’t making him particularly happy. In fact, he looked upset. Gerard cleared his throat and reclaimed my attention, and I noticed his lips were pinched in distaste.
“Clara, it’s time for you to go home to Dallas,” he said. “You don’t belong here. This is our town. We’re in charge.”
I shook my head. “You told me last night during our little talk at the trailer park gate that this isn’t the old Alber.”
“Yeah, but—”
“I’m counting on that being true, and that this isn’t the same police department that used to run young boys, including you and Max, out of town. The same police force that harassed the girls.”
“It’s not, but—” Gerard started.
I didn’t wait for him to finish. “I know one thing for sure. I’m not the same woman who fled from Alber frightened for her life.”
“Clara, stop,” Max interrupted. Off his phone, he appeared troubled. Where before he’d backed me, he walked over and stood next to Gerard. “The chief is right. Like the sheriff said, you have no jurisdiction here. You know that. You might as well leave and—”
“You, too, Max? Telling me what to do?” He seemed confused about what to say, so I picked up where I left off. I intended to leave no room for any misunderstanding. “Gentlemen, this you can believe: I’m not leaving Alber until I’m sure my sister is safe.”
As I turned to go, Evan Barstow glowered at me, his eyes filled with hate. I thought about the rumors Hannah recounted, that he favored young girls. Maybe it wasn’t a fluke that he’d chosen this particular morning to drop in to visit his younger brother, the police chief.
I couldn’t know how much, if anything, Stephanie Jonas had heard, but she was standing at the end of the hallway when I walked out. The men were quiet behind me; I assumed they were waiting for me to clear the area before dissecting my performance.
As I brushed past the dispatcher, she whispered, “Detective Jefferies?”
I turned and looked at her.
“If you need anything,” she said, and slipped me a card. I took it. I heard something and turned back toward the conference room. Evan Barstow stood in the doorway watching us, his eyes bristling with rage.
“Thanks,” I whispered to Jonas.
When I got outside, I glanced at the card. Jonas had written her cell phone number on the back. I slid it into my pocket.
In the car, I called Hannah.
“If you’re still willing to go with me to talk to the Heatons, I’ll pick you up on the way.”
Fifteen
Hannah ran out and got in the car when I stopped in front of the shelter. The gates to the trailer compound stood open when we arrived, but we still couldn’t get inside.