Chapter 29

  

Wynan Congers was at my front door at five the next morning. I settled him in the kitchen and gave him a cup of coffee and some scrambled eggs and bacon.

“Thanks. And thank you for talking to this guy Vane. Do you think we can trust him?”

“I think so. And honestly, we don’t have much else to go on right now.”

“Joe said you felt sure Vane is not our suspect, that we haven’t forewarned him. You know how dangerous that could be for Jamie if he has her.”

“I do know. And I do know it’s risky going to him. But it may be the only lead we have right now, and my instincts tell me Shelby is not our guy.”

Wynan looked gloomily at his eggs. “Nell and her student helpers put all those posters up yesterday afternoon. Maybe they’ll help.”

I had grown to like Wynan Congers. Not just because he was a loving grandfather but also because he was a strong and decent man—a good man for Nell, and a good friend for Joe and me. I also hoped what I told him about Shelby was right.

  

The road to the Vane ranch was two lanes that ran through the country outside of Landry past a series of other small ranches. Cattle, mostly Black Angus, stood in sharp relief to the green grass that nourished them. The wooden split rail fences had just a touch of frost on the top rails, reminding us that September was full of warm days that began with cool mornings and would soon turn to late fall and crisp cold. Just before the turnoff to Shelby’s we came upon a sod farm, still operating with giant sprinklers keeping the sod green and ready.

The Vane ranch house was built low to the ground, a long one-story structure with a barn off to one side. Purple asters and orange chrysanthemums lined the driveway. A tall cottonwood, bright with brilliant yellow color, dominated the lawn.

The moment Joe and Wynan saw the owner on his front porch, dressed in boots, jeans and baseball cap, I could almost hear a simultaneous click in each of their well-trained police minds. Shelby did look very much like the description of the suspect. Joe gave me a sideways look that registered his renewed doubts about the wisdom of my visit alone to Shelby Vane.

“Morning,” we all said at the same time. Behind Shelby, we could see an older woman’s face in the window, her mouth drawn thin with disapproval. A Jeep appeared from behind the house, driven by a boy who looked like Shelby probably did when he was fourteen or so. The boy jumped out and handed his father the keys.

“Not much of a road going to the shed,” said Shelby, indicating we should all pile into the Jeep. I sat in back with Wynan, Joe in front with Shelby. The boy stood on the bottom step of the porch, watching us in silence as his father started up the engine and we jolted down the drive. About a quarter mile on gravel and then we turned into a field bisected by a narrow dirt path. The Jeep jumped and bucked at every rock in the road. Past a stand of yellowing cottonwoods, we saw the shack, small and weathered gray.

Shelby stopped the Jeep and climbed down. Without saying anything to us he strode toward the shed and lifted a large two-by-four that was across the door.

The door swung open.

Inside were bales of dry hay and a rusted wheelbarrow with a shovel and scythe in it. The shed measured about ten by eight feet, hardly large enough for two people to enter, much less for a large man to keep a girl captive.

“If she was in here, she’d have escaped easily by now,” Wynan said. “Unless she was tied up good.”

Shelby looked startled. “You think someone was in my shed?”

“No,” said Joe, who had entered the shed and was inspecting it with his flashlight. “There’s no sign anyone has been in here recently.” He emerged and brushed the dust off his pants and stamped his feet.

Shelby put one foot up on the running board of his Jeep and twirled the keys in his hand. “Anyone going to tell me what the hell is going on, and why we all had to get up at the crack of dawn to get over here?”

“We’re investigating a problem with one of Red’s students, Dr. Vane. That’s about all I can tell you right now.” Joe brushed off more dust and turned to get back in the Jeep.

Shelby’s neck turned red and the color crept up to his cheeks. “Sorry, Detective, that’s not good enough. You’re talking to a man whose brother was railroaded by false accusation. Tim did time in state prison for a crime he never committed. So I need to know more. Why is my land, my shed, even of interest to you guys?”

Joe looked steadily at Shelby and made a decision. “Because we believe that a man who may be a member of the Lassiter family has had something to do with a student’s disappearance. And this was once Lassiter land.”

Shelby inhaled deeply. “Okay. But this is just one of the smaller parcels of Lassiter land. There’s a much bigger one about twenty miles from here. Why don’t you look there?”

“I tried,” said Wynan. “But it’s protected with high steel fencing and I couldn’t see much when I walked a couple of miles of the perimeter.”

“Yeah, that was old man Lassiter,” said Shelby. “He never wanted anyone to get into there. His house was way back in the woods and he had no trespassing signs posted on all sides of the land around.”

Wynan frowned. “I didn’t see a house.”

“You won’t see it, either,” said Shelby. “The house is only accessible by a dirt and gravel road that leads in from the north side of the property. And that road has an eight-foot gate and an electric fence and warning signs.”

Joe, Wynan, and I must all have looked incredibly dispirited, because Shelby stopped twirling the keys and said something unexpected. “I know a way into that property on the south side.”

“That’s great, Dr. Vane. Can you show us?” asked Wynan.

Joe raised his hand. “Wynan, we don’t have a warrant to enter that land.”

Shelby shook his head. “Well, it’s risky going in anyway. The only safe time to sneak in is late afternoon, when the watchman goes home.”

“There’s a watchman?” Wynan looked surprised. “Hell, the property must cover fifty acres. Who can watch over a spread that large?”

“He drives a Jeep full-speed over that land. I’ve also seen him on a dirt bike. Most of the property is scrub pine and sagebrush. The only trees and grass grow alongside a lake in the middle of the property. I think the watchman probably pays his closest attention to the south side. Some kids cut an opening in the south fence last year and got in. The lake is a little wider on that side, and when the wind’s up, it’s good for windsurfing.”

Joe moved closer to Shelby. “Have you ever gotten into that property?’

Shelby looked sheepish. “If you promise not to arrest me for trespassing.”

“I promise.”

“I was on that lake last week, and it’s a eutrophic lake, if you know what that means.”

“Shallow, cloudy, full of plants.”

“You remember your biology, Detective. Well, my friend, Skip Kramer from Biology, wanted to go up there and gather some specimen plants for his lab. We know how to get in and out of there, even with two of us portaging a small boat through a meadow and squeezing through a small opening in the fence. A good thing, since the other day we saw that watchman’s Jeep barreling down on us like a bat out of hell. We barely made it back to our truck.”

“Did you use the opening the kids made?”

“Nope. Skip and I made another opening earlier this summer and then concealed it with tree branches so the watchman couldn’t spot it easily.”

“Can you take us there?”

“I can, but not today. I take my mother into Reno for dialysis today and I can’t skip that. There’s no one else except my boy, who isn’t old enough to drive on the roads. I can take you there tomorrow, but if we want to avoid that watchman, we should go late in the day. Sorry, that’s the best I can do.”

“A student’s life may be at stake,” I said.

“I understand, but you’re not even sure your student is up there at Lassiter’s place. It’s pretty far away. And one thing I am sure of is my mother’s poor health. Tomorrow’s the best I can do.”

“We’ve waited this long, we can wait until tomorrow,” said Wynan. “Besides,” he said, “I want to try for a warrant so that if we find the house, we can get into it for sure.”

Joe turned to him. “You really okay with delaying, Wynan? Getting a warrant’s a long shot with no compelling evidence.”

“I know a judge who might help me out, and just might also accept my word for probable cause.” Wynan dug his hands in his pockets and paced back and forth in front of the shack. “But I’ll have to fly down to Vegas to see him and talk him into it, so I need the extra day to do that. I want to be absolutely sure we can get into any building on that property.”

Shelby took his foot off the running board and put his keys into the ignition. “So we’ll go tomorrow then. How about we meet at my house at four tomorrow afternoon? I think the watchman may leave the property about four thirty, so we can dodge him.”

Shelby looked at Joe and Wynan, then made a sucking sound with his lips over his teeth. “I know you men are both cops, but that watchman is as tough and mean as a rattlesnake. Rumor has it he was in Special Forces. He caught Skip and me one day last summer. We managed to persuade him to let us get on our way and not to come back. But he carries a Bushmaster semi-automatic rifle and, if we see him again, I’d rather not be party to a gunfight.”

“Did he spot your opening in the steel fence?”

Shelby’s brow furrowed. “I don’t think so. He seemed to be satisfied when we practically ran with the boat. We left him by the lake. And as of last week he doesn’t seem to have inspected that section of the fence. But you never know. We may have to create another opening. Bring wire cutters.”

  

Jamie

  

The house did not have a vacuum cleaner so Jamie used a stiff whiskbroom to clean the upholstered furniture in the parlor. She pulled the seat cushions off the sofa and carefully brushed the base of the sofa. The broom caught on the crevice that separated the base from the back. Freeing the whiskbroom required her to poke her fingers into the crevice. Something hard and sharp was in there. She poked again and flipped out a small plastic card. It was a Nevada driver’s license.

She took the driver’s license to the window to examine it. She stared at the image in disbelief. It had been issued to Alice Lassiter. The face in the photo on the license could have been Jamie’s. So could the height and weight. The birth date was April 7, 1957. The date the license should have been renewed was April 7, 1987, when Alice was thirty years old. But according to the man, Alice had left the house when she was still in her late twenties. A chill ran through Jamie’s body. Who packs up her clothes and books and leaves without her driver’s license?

Jamie tucked the license into her pants pocket. She replaced the sofa cushions and went back into the kitchen. An hour later found her still standing by the sink, staring out the window at the meadow and the steel fence, still rehearsing the questions she wanted to ask without arousing his suspicions. She was certain she needed to find out much more about the time Alice had spent in the house.

But that evening was not to be her opportunity. The man came home late, slamming the car door and then the front door and calling out from the hallway. “I’ve eaten. Feed yourself and go to bed.” His voice sounded angry, very angry. He did not appear in the kitchen but she heard his footsteps loud and hard on the wooden stairs as he went up to his room.