Tuesday, November 19, 4:15 p.m.
As Bennett crossed the park’s parking lot toward Macy, the officer’s mirrored sunglasses tossed back Macy’s reflection. Macy figured she and Bennett were about the same age, but in so many respects their lives were worlds apart. When Macy had been juggling high school graduation and college, Bennett was already a mother. Macy had lived at a dozen addresses in the last decade, while the deputy still lived in the house she grew up in.
“Do you find it odd that Ms. Roberson didn’t lock her car?” Macy asked.
“Not everyone around here locks their front doors or cars. I know it must be different in the big city.”
“Do you lock your front door on your house?” Macy asked.
“Damn straight.” The deputy slid her long hand into a latex glove. “I can’t sleep with an unlocked door, Mayberry or not.”
“Working in law enforcement does challenge your faith in your fellow man.”
Bennett pulled on the second glove. “I have a son and a mother to protect. I trust no one when it comes to them.” The deputy eyed Macy with a long stare and then lifted her shades. “Let’s have a look inside the car.”
As Macy gloved up, Sullivan arrived, and Bennett instructed him to monitor the perimeter.
Macy opened the front door of the car and studied the interior. The bucket seats were made of black faux leather with cracks on the driver’s seat. The steering wheel was worn in spots, and two of the radio buttons were missing. The glove box was crammed full of extra fast-food napkins, a tire gauge, and a worn owner’s manual still in its original plastic sleeve. Coins filled the drink holder, and on the floorboard of the car was a plastic grocery bag containing a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of white bread. The receipt inside the bag read LUCKY’S, 11/16/19, 9:07 P.M.
“Lucky’s?” Macy asked.
“It’s a convenience store close to the highway near your motel room.”
“Hopefully, they have surveillance tape.”
“I’ll call now and tell them to hold whatever they have.”
While Bennett made her call, Macy patted her hand under the passenger seat but found nothing. A search under the driver’s seat revealed Debbie’s purse, as had been reported. It was tucked out of sight.
It was never smart to leave a purse in a locked vehicle, let alone in an unsecured one. Women did it all the time thinking thieves never looked under seats or beneath coats or blankets on the seat. Most didn’t realize there was always someone watching parking places. As soon as the driver walked away, thieves gained entrance using a rock or hammer and snatched the valuables so carefully tucked away.
The worn purse was outfitted with a half dozen zippered pockets. The largest compartment held Debbie’s wallet, which contained no cash but all her credit cards.
The bag had been chosen for functionality and not fashion. It was stuffed with a dozen mundane items, including a ring of keys, tampons, rumpled receipts, gum wrappers, condoms, and a small bag of pot.
Macy wasn’t going to prejudge the woman on its contents. A twenty-one-year-old virgin who hadn’t tried weed was as rare as a unicorn.
There was no sign of Debbie’s cell phone. The phone’s absence explained why Bennett hadn’t been able to track the woman to this location. Someone had either shut the phone off entirely and removed the battery or destroyed the device.
Macy returned to the vehicle, searching for anything unusual. The windows were intact, and there were no pry marks on the doors. She also found no blood or hair fibers on the seat, steering wheel, or door handles.
Bennett tucked her phone back in a pouch on her belt. “I spoke to the store manager. He’s holding the tapes for us.”
Thinking out loud, Macy said, “Ms. Roberson finishes a three-day shift, and then she stops for groceries, knowing there’re no groceries at home.”
“She buys only the essentials,” Bennett said. “Payday isn’t for five more days.”
“And she puts it on the card.”
“And then she comes face to face with someone who knocks her out and dumps her in the trunk of her car,” Bennett said. “He drives here, and transfers her to another vehicle.”
“Then why is her purse under the seat?” Macy asked.
“That doesn’t strike me as something an assailant would do, but women do it all the time.”
“Could she have been meeting someone here? She then crosses paths with a bad guy?”
“Or she knew her attacker.” Macy glanced around at the tall trees and mountains. Nevada would be up there for a while. “Let’s go to Lucky’s and follow up on the video.”
“I’ll have Sullivan remain on site and keep the area secure.”
“Perfect.”
“We’re lucky,” Bennett said. “The manager only keeps the footage for three days and then erases it. He’s never had a robbery, and the last time anyone needed to see a recording was when the Pollard boy got drunk after a football game and knocked over a display.”
“Good. We don’t want to waste time, then.” Macy’s phone rang. She glanced at the display and recognized her sister’s number. Stifling a groan, she stepped away from the car and pulled off her gloves before clearing her voice. “Faith.”
Faith McIntyre was her twin sister, a fact she still had trouble wrapping her brain around. She’d always known she was adopted and thought maybe biological siblings might come into her life, but a twin? Really?
“Where are you?” Faith asked. “The reception isn’t good.”
“I’m at the entrance to a national park in the Shenandoah Valley.”
Faith dropped her tone a notch. “I know you want your life back, but are you rushing things?”
Hearing her own doubts echoed back annoyed her. “I’m handling it. You only know the broken and battered me. The real me loves this kind of work.”
“You sound tired. How are you feeling?”
Bennett, as if sensing this was a personal call, walked back to her cruiser. “Other than the need for some coffee, I’m fine.”
“I don’t believe you,” Faith said. “The doctor told you not to rush things.”
Since Macy’s accident, Faith had been there for her. She’d been at the hospital after Macy’s emergency surgery and had spoken to the doctors who couldn’t say if she would live or die. Her newfound twin had been there when Macy had woken up confused and frightened. She had stuck around during rehab and cried with Macy at the funeral of the young teen mother who had died giving birth to them.
Faith was never too motherly. It was Macy who chafed at being accountable. From her latchkey kid days to her work at the bureau, Macy had always been on her own. This new hovering thing just didn’t fit her well. “I’m not rushing anything. For the first time in months, I feel like myself.”
A long silence, and then, “I’m calling you again tomorrow.”
Macy tipped her head back and pinched the bridge of her nose, reminding herself that Faith wanted to help. She truly cared. “Sure. Call away. But you’ll be wasting your time. I’m fine.”
“It’s my time to waste.”
A smile tugged at her lips. “Thanks for checking.”
“Anytime.”
Macy pocketed the phone, shifted her weight to her right side, and walked toward Bennett. “Let’s have a look at the security footage.”
“Stay on my tail. I don’t want to lose you,” Bennett said.
Hearing the challenge, she fired back, “I might not walk fast, but I drive just fine.”
In her vehicle, Macy relaxed back into the seat and waited for the discomfort to ease. The docs said the leg just needed time. Unfortunately, that was one thing she didn’t have.
She turned on the ignition and followed the deputy’s brown-and-white vehicle out of the park toward town, where the small convenience store was located.
She fished three ibuprofen from her backpack, chewing them up for quicker action. With no water to wash down the bitterness, she kept driving. Ten minutes later she felt decent as she pulled into the convenience store parking lot behind the cruiser. She followed Bennett through the door and toward the clerk.
The store was a good size and featured a diner and a small grocery. The clerk behind the counter was a thin man in his early thirties with a thick crop of dark hair that was cut short on the sides but long along the middle. The company’s blue smock draped over a white short-sleeved T-shirt. Multicolored tattoos stretched from his wrist past his elbow. A small diamond earring winked in his right ear. His name tag read Bobby.
The clerk smiled when he saw Bennett. “Deputy. I got that footage for you. You’re going to be interested to see it.”
Bobby sized up Macy, branding her an outsider. “You can see it in the back office if that will help.”
“Thanks, Bobby. And this is Special Agent Macy Crow. She’s with the FBI.”
“FBI? I saw you on the television today during that announcement you made. Get any good tips on the hotline yet?”
“Not yet, but it’s early,” Macy said.
“So what are we looking for?” Bobby asked.
“I’m looking for Debbie Roberson,” Macy said. “She’s still missing.”
“You think this killer has her?” Bobby asked.
“Hard to tell,” Bennett said. “But folks like you helping will make all the difference.”
Bobby came out from behind the counter, and they followed him past the snack and chip aisle and beyond the beer coolers to a small office. The neat space featured a desk, a chair, a bulletin board with the month’s work schedule, a personalized coffee mug, and four sharpened pencils lined up in a neat row. Front and center was a dated computer running four feeds from the store’s security cameras.
Bobby clicked on the upper right image, which showed the front of the store. He backed up the imaging forty-seven hours and hit “Play.”
“I didn’t realize she was missing until you called. I remember seeing her a couple of days ago, but she looked fine and there was no sign of any trouble.”
“What day was she here, Bobby?” Bennett asked.
“Saturday evening. She said she was grabbing a few groceries to get her through the next couple of days until payday. She said her extra money had gone to fixing a flat tire. I offered to float her a few days, but she said she didn’t mind peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”
“Did she say how she got the flat?” Macy asked.
Bobby shrugged. “Picked up a nail.”
“Was she alone when she came in the store?” Macy asked.
“She was.”
“And she didn’t appear nervous or upset? Hurt? Sick? Depressed?”
“No, normal Debbie,” Bobby said.
“Do you remember where she parked in your lot?” Macy asked, hoping small-town life meant people paid closer attention to details like that.
“As a matter of fact, I do remember. She parked off to the side.”
“Any idea why?” Macy asked.
“Because the kids from the high school were here. They take over the parking lot and store when they come through. It was after the postseason football party.”
“How did the team do this year?” Macy asked.
Bobby shook his head. “Not well. Ended with a five-and-four season.”
“Not like the Dream Team days, right?” Macy prompted.
Bobby grinned. “That season will go down in history,” he said.
“Shame about Tobi,” Macy said.
“Yeah.”
“Did you know her? I mean, seems everyone in Deep Run knows everyone.”
“I knew her,” Bobby said. “She was nice.”
“Did Debbie say if anyone else was in her car?” Bennett asked.
“If there were, she never mentioned it,” Bobby said.
Macy sensed Bennett’s impatience as Bobby fast-forwarded the video. She leaned in as the footage skimmed back in time to Saturday evening.
Bobby hit “Stop” at the 9:05 p.m. time stamp and then hit “Play.” The camera caught a collection of teenagers bustling through the front door. They were laughing, and two were kissing. “That was about the time a few kids tried to buy beer, but I carded them all. I’m not going to lose my liquor license over a couple of kids. I don’t care if they are on the football team.”
Macy imagined that comment was for the deputy’s benefit. Both women kept their gazes on the black-and-white feed and watched as Debbie, dressed in pastel scrubs, entered the store. They watched her grab peanut butter and bread and head directly to the register. She spoke to the clerk briefly and then exited the store.
“That’s Debbie Roberson,” Bennett said.
Macy studied the woman’s face, looking for signs of stress, worry, or even happiness, as if she were glad to see someone. Just as Debbie moved offscreen, her expression seemed to change. “Can you back that up?” Macy asked.
“Sure.”
“Play it in slow motion.” As the scene unfolded again, Macy watched as Debbie exited the store and her eyes shifted from casual to alert. She had seen something or someone. “Do you have a camera that covers this area?” Macy pointed to the top right corner of the screen.
“Not totally, but camera three records from a different angle.” He clicked on camera three, and the trio watched it catch the edge of a blue four-door Ford Focus. A man rose up out of the car, but his head was downcast, making it impossible to see his face.
“Do you know who that is?” Macy asked Bennett.
“No.”
“What about you, Bobby? Did you see the guy?”
“No. I was trying to make sure the teenagers didn’t walk out with half the store.”
“Would any of those kids have been out in the parking lot about that time?” Macy asked.
“Sure. There were at least a dozen.”
“Do you have names, Bobby?” Bennett asked.
“Well, there was the Wyatt boy. And the Piper brothers and the Donovan kid.”
“Tyler. Tyler Wyatt was out there?” Bennett asked.
“Yeah, with his girlfriend, Amy Meadow.”
Macy wrote down the names. “Anyone else you remember?”
“No, but talk to Tyler or Amy. They’re the king and queen of the high school and know everyone.”
“Wasn’t there a Wyatt on the Dream Team?” Macy asked.
“That would be Kevin. Tyler’s older brother.”
“Older brother? That’s a big age gap.”
“I guess it happens.”
“How long have you worked here, Bobby?” Macy asked.
“Sixteen years. My dad owns the place.”
“So you’ve seen a lot of kids come and go.”
“Sure.”
“Remember Cindy Shaw?”
He nodded. “Haven’t heard that name in a long time.”
“I hear she was friends with Tobi,” Macy prompted.
“I don’t know if I’d say they were friends, but they hung out sometimes.”
“Can we get a copy of all the footage you have?” Bennett asked. “I want to review everything.”
He dug a thumb drive from his pocket. “I thought you might ask, so here you go.”
“Thanks, Bobby.” Macy offered the thumb drive to Bennett, but the deputy held up her hand, deferring to Macy. She pocketed the thumb drive. “I’ll double back if I have more questions.”
“Sure. I’m here just about all the time.”
Outside the store, Bennett said, “I thought we were here to talk about Debbie.”
“We are, but I can’t lose sight of the fact I’m here for Tobi and the rape victims. Don’t underestimate a guy like Bobby and what he notices. How do we get to the Wyatts’ house?”
“Follow me. Amy Meadow’s family lives one street over, so we have a chance of seeing them both.”
“Lead the way.”
Macy followed the deputy’s marked vehicle across the small town and around the university toward the western edge. The farther west they drove, the sparser the developments became. She then saw brick pillars marking the entrance to a fairly recent community.
They wove through the neighborhood, and the deputy parked in front of a two-story brick home set back from the road on an acre lot.
Macy opened the back of her vehicle and removed a buccal DNA test kit. She tucked the sealed glass vial containing a swab in her jacket pocket before joining Bennett by the mailbox. Streetlights, sensing the approaching dusk, had begun to flicker on.
“This has to be one of the most affluent sections of town,” Macy said.
“It’s where the new money lives. Old money is a little farther out west toward the mountains, where you find the large horse farms.”
“And this is the home of Tyler Wyatt?”
“It is. His older brother, Kevin, also lives here part time. He is an attorney who splits his time between here and Washington, DC.”
“Kevin Wyatt has a long commute,” Macy said.
“Kevin has stayed close to home since his dad died. He thinks it’s important for his little brother that he’s present.”
“What about the boys’ mother?” Macy asked.
“She’s always traveled a lot. Not home much.” Bennett shifted her stance. “His family and the Shaws can probably trace their roots back to the beginning of this town.”
“The Shaws and Wyatts are related?”
“Cousins of some kind.”
“Given their economic differences, I’m assuming they weren’t close.”
“The families were not, but Bruce and Kevin got pretty tight when they played ball.”
“And now?”
“I don’t know,” Bennett said.
“You know a lot about this family.”
“I grew up in the area. And Tyler Wyatt is no stranger to the sheriff’s department. He received a new car for his sixteenth birthday and was clocked going over one hundred miles an hour two days later. He also was caught drunk at one of the football games. In both cases, his brother hired an attorney.”
“What was his brother like in high school?”
“Much the same.”
“Well, let’s hope Tyler was paying attention at the convenience store on Saturday night.”
“He’s very intelligent. Just bored and spoiled.”
Macy did not grow up in a world where high-dollar attorneys rode to the rescue. Lower-middle-class and poor kids did jail time on lesser charges. Feeling an old chip on her shoulder, she pushed the emotion aside and rang the bell.
Steady, even footsteps echoed in the house, and seconds later the door opened to a tall man dressed in a charcoal-gray suit, a white monogramed dress shirt, and a loosened red tie. His prematurely gray hair was brushed back away from a round face.
“Deputy Bennett,” Kevin said. “This is a surprise.”
“Mr. Wyatt, is Tyler home?”
“What’s he done?” Kevin asked.
“Nothing. He happened to be in Lucky’s convenience store on Saturday night, and we think he and Amy might have seen something.”
“Seen what?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Macy said as she pulled her FBI badge from her breast pocket and introduced herself. “He might be a big help to us.”
Kevin gripped the doorknob before stepping aside and inviting them into the foyer. “Can you tell me what this is about?”
“A woman is missing,” Bennett said. “We know from surveillance footage that your brother and Debbie Roberson were in the parking lot at the same time. We’re hoping Tyler saw something.”
Kevin’s jaw worked at the joints as if he were weighing the pros and cons. Finally, the pros appeared to win. “Tyler, come downstairs.” A door opened, and the faint bass beat of music grew louder.
“Coming,” Tyler said.
“Are you Tyler’s legal guardian?” Macy asked.
“Our mother travels a great deal, and I step in when she’s gone. I have full legal authority, then, when it comes to Tyler.”
“What does your mother do for a living?” Macy asked.
“She travels. For pleasure,” Kevin said.
“Sounds like fun,” Macy said.
“It is, for her.”
Meaning it wasn’t for Tyler and Kevin. “How often do you commute in from DC?”
“A few times a week.”
“That’s rough,” Macy said. “Traffic never lets up.”
“Does your family own the Wyatt barn?” she asked.
“No. My father sold it almost thirty years ago, but the name has stuck.”
“You heard about the recent discovery at the barn?”
“I did.”
“Did you know Tobi?” Macy asked.
“Knew of her, but we never spoke.”
“Band geek versus Dream Team kind of thing?”
“High school kids can be very judgmental. I wish I’d been kinder to her.”
“You weren’t nice to her?” Macy asked.
“Most of the football players, including me that year, were too stuck up for their own good.”
Heavier footsteps thudded across the upstairs floor before Tyler appeared at the top of the stairs. Tall like his brother, he was wiry and strong. Likely the same build his older brother had enjoyed at that age before long hours at the office and stress had caught up.
When Tyler saw Bennett, his face flushed a faint pink as if he were mentally ticking through what he had done recently that would warrant a visit from the law.
“What’s up, Kevin?” Tyler asked.
“You’re not in trouble,” Kevin said. “The police have questions about a missing woman.”
“Tyler,” Bennett said. “You and Amy were at Lucky’s on Saturday night.”
“Yeah. Everyone was there, even Matt,” Tyler said.
“Matt?” Macy asked.
Bennett’s frown deepened. “Matt is my son. He’s fourteen.”
Macy sensed the deputy’s frustration over this new bit of information about a curfew-breaking son. “Continue, Tyler.”
“We were all getting food after the rally at the high school.”
“Tyler, did you see Debbie Roberson?” Macy asked.
“Yeah.”
“How did you know her?” Macy asked.
“She worked at the assisted living place where my grandmother lived until she died. Grandma liked her. She was nice.”
“Did you two speak?” Macy asked.
“Yeah. I said hi and so did she. She was wearing her scrubs and looked like she just got off work.”
“Did anyone else speak to her?” Macy asked.
“Yeah. A guy. He used to work at the old folks’ home, too. I think his name is Rafe.”
Bennett shifted her stance as she reached for her phone and typed in a name. When an image came up, she showed it to the boy. “This him?”
Tyler studied the picture. “Yeah. That’s him.”
“Rafe Younger,” Bennett said.
“Did Younger say anything to Debbie?” Macy asked.
“I wasn’t really paying attention. But she laughed when he spoke to her. She got in her car and left.”
“What did Younger do?”
“Drove off, I guess,” Tyler said. “I don’t know. I didn’t sense anything odd.”
“Did you see anyone else around Ms. Roberson?” Macy asked.
“No. But I wasn’t paying attention. Matt had just—” He glanced toward the deputy and stopped.
“Matt just what?” Bennett asked calmly. “I’m not mad, seriously.”
“Nothing,” the boy said.
Bennett looked as if she wanted to press the matter, but let it go. “Okay.”
“Is that all the questions you have?” Kevin asked.
Macy thanked both Kevin and Tyler Wyatt, but as she turned, she asked Kevin, almost as an aside, “What about Cindy Shaw? You must have known her. A cousin, right?”
“The two families never mixed, but yes, she was a cousin.”
“Why didn’t the families mix?”
“My aunt was a meth addict. And Cindy was following the same path as her mother,” Kevin said.
“And Bruce?”
“He tried to be a good brother to Cindy, but his life was football. She finally realized that and took off.”
“And Bruce stayed.”
“His future was here. He moved in with my family the second half of senior year.”
“I hear Cindy was really into the bonfires,” Macy said.
“The bonfires?”
Macy smiled. “You know, the big pregame events that were a good luck ritual for the Dream Team. Seems to me if you mix teenagers, booze, and hormones, it’s a recipe for something to happen.”
“I don’t understand your meaning,” he said carefully.
“Did anyone ever get hurt at those shindigs?”
He glanced quickly at the deputy but then shook his head. “Not that I remember.”
Macy reached in her breast pocket and pulled out the cylinder holding a buccal swab. “Would you allow me to swab the inside of your cheek? I’m gathering samples from every male who might have been in contact with Tobi those last days. It’s really just to eliminate you so I can move on to the real suspects.”
He hesitated. “How will DNA help you find Tobi’s killer?”
“I’m not sure it will, but we’re being proactive with the DNA testing given the recent news about the untested rape kits. It’s more of a PR thing.”
“I still don’t see how I figure into the equation.”
“Exactly. And the sooner I don’t have to look in your direction, the better for us both. It’ll only take a second. I promise.” He was an attorney and knew he could say no, and if she wanted to press, she’d have to get a court order.
“I’ll check with my attorney. If he gives the go ahead, I’d be glad to.”
“Why not just do it now?” Macy asked.
Kevin smiled. “I never deal directly with the cops even if I have a speeding ticket.”
Macy reminded herself that even innocent men were cautious. “Next time I see you, I’ll ask.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine with it. What’s going on with Debbie Roberson?” Kevin asked.
“Hopefully it’s all a false alarm, and she’ll show up just fine,” Macy offered. “Thank you for your time.”
Bennett rattled her keys as they moved toward their cars. “You believe Tobi’s killer is wrapped up in the Dream Team?”
When they reached Macy’s car, she drew a line under her notes and then jotted Kevin Wyatt’s name down. “I have no idea. But I have three unsolved rape cases and a murder from the year this Dream Team went all the way.”
Bennett’s brow knotted. “The team received a lot of exposure, which in turn brought to town a lot of people who weren’t normally here.”
“How can I find Rafe Younger?” Macy asked.
“I’ll see if I can track him down.”
“I’d like to speak to Debbie’s mother, too,” Macy said.
“Special Agent Crow, you’re here to investigate the rapes and murder, not this case.”
“Deputy, have you ever had one of those moments when a word you wish to recall is on the tip of your tongue, but for the life of you it remains out of reach?”
“Sure.”
“When I get that feeling with a case, I don’t ignore it. In fact, I run with it until that funny feeling goes away.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’ve got that feeling now.”
“You think Debbie’s case is related to Tobi’s?”
“It makes no logical sense, but I can’t shake the feeling.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
She thought for a moment and lightly touched the side of her nose. “I rarely am.”