Yet that validation hadn’t changed the situation. My instincts had told me all along that Delilah was taken. The questions remained: by whom, and how do I find her?
On my way back to the sheriff’s office, I thought about the business card the Alber PD dispatcher palmed me that morning. I fished around in my pocket and found it. I looked at the phone number scratched on the back and wondered why she gave it to me. I steered with one hand and punched in her number with the other. “Clara Jefferies here, Stephanie. Why did you slip me your card?”
“Give me a minute,” she whispered. “A couple of the officers are here. I’ll walk outside.”
I did, and when she got back on, I asked again, “Tell me why you gave me your card.”
“I thought maybe you could call me if you needed help,” she stammered. “Maybe I could, you know, pitch in.”
“How could you help?” The secretive way she handed me the card needled at me. I sensed that she had something she wanted to tell me.
“I thought maybe you’d need someone local to assist you. That’s all,” she said.
“I think it’s more than that. What do you know that could help me?”
“Nothing, I—”
“Again, and this time please answer my question, why did you give it to me?”
“Because,” she blurted out, “around here, things aren’t always what they seem.”
“And there’s something in particular about what’s going on in this town that may not be clear to me?” I asked. “What?”
The silence dragged, but I waited. I’ve learned that keeping my mouth shut often works better than talking when I want someone to open up. The quiet lingered, until she said, “There are a lot of secrets in this part of the world, Detective.”
“For instance?” I asked. “Let’s focus on the current situation.”
“For instance, there’s a lot that never makes it to official reports,” she said, her voice lower, quieter. “For instance, sometimes doing a computer search doesn’t access the really important records. Because sometimes stuff isn’t entered into the databases.”
“Where’s it kept?” I asked.
“I’d show you if I could,” she said. “But I can’t. That’s a private room. It’s not open—”
“Stephanie, we found a body earlier today. A young woman left to rot under a pile of rocks,” I said. “I can’t promise you that helping me won’t get you in trouble. You might lose your job. I understand that. But I can promise you that helping me figure out what’s going on is the right thing to do.”
I asked a lot. I knew that. I didn’t have a choice. Someone had to come out from the shadows, pull back the curtains and let in the daylight. If I was right, lives depended on it. Delilah’s life depended on it.
“I’ll… Well… Jeez, this isn’t going to be good,” she said. Again, I kept mum. I heard the reluctance in her voice when she said, “Come on over to the station. The chief’s not here right now. I’ll do what I can.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
As soon as I hung up with Stephanie, I called Max. “Where are you?”
“I just got back to the office. I’ve got the Heaton and Coombs women in the waiting area. They’re eyeing each other, I guess wondering why I brought the others in. They heard about the girl in the field, so they’re worried, wondering what we want. I think they’ll cooperate. I’ve been waiting on you to press the issue.”
“Good…” I looked at the clock again, wishing I could be in two places at once. “Separate them by family in a couple of interview rooms and let them stew. Tell them I’m on my way. I won’t be long.”
“Okay. You have something for me to do while I’m waiting?”
“Check in with Doc on the autopsy,” I asked. “Find out what he knows so far.”
“Will do,” Max said.
I was relieved not to see Gerard Barstow’s black Suburban parked outside his office when I pulled up. The station looked quiet, a couple of cars parked on the side, but not much going on. I walked in and Stephanie looked up from behind the glass partition and buzzed me in.
In the main room, all the desks were empty. “Stephanie, hey, where is the chief? You expect him soon?”
“Call me Stef. Everyone does,” she said. “I don’t know. Chief Barstow left about twenty minutes ago, right before you called. Didn’t say where he was going.”
“The chief often take off like this during the day?”
“Not usually. He left ticked off about you, the investigation. I heard him call his brother Evan. There was a lot of shouting.”
“Where’s everyone else?”
“It’s three thirty. Day shift’s still out on patrol, and the evening shift hasn’t come in. Detective Mullins made a scene. He’s taking a robbery report on a stolen bicycle. At the moment, I’m the only one here.”
“Good. So what have you got for me?”
“Are you going to tell the chief about this?” she asked. The lids on her eyes shuttered, and her lips compressed into a straight line. “This could really get in the way of my plans. I’m taking forensic science classes at the community college in St. George. There aren’t a lot of law enforcement jobs in the area. I was lucky to get this one. If I get fired, I may not find another.”
“I can’t promise we can keep it from him, but I’ll do my best.”
Stef didn’t look happy, but appeared resigned. “This way.”
We walked through the main room toward the back, and then took a turn into the hallway. Ten feet past Gerard’s office, she stopped at an unmarked door on the left. Stef pulled a single key on a red lanyard from her pocket. “I found this about six months after I started working here. I worked nights back then. One night, I ran out of printer paper. I thought this had to be the stockroom. The door’s kept locked. I found the key on a hook behind the chief’s desk.
