He flipped through the pages first, noting that each was short—about a paragraph synopsis of people’s lives and their connection to Jonathan. Better than what most of his guys could do. Arlen pulled out his file on the potential suspects, scowling at the list. One of them knew something—probably was the murderer. Investigations had changed, thanks to DNA testing and cell phones, but if the police didn’t get on a kidnapping within twenty-four hours, forty-eight at most, the evidence started to dry up, disappear, making it harder to put together the motive and the person involved.
Still, Arlen felt certain he’d spoken to Jonathan’s killer. Happened way too often. But without proof . . . he was back at square one. For now, he compared Nancy’s notes to the meticulous ones he’d taken thirty years ago.
September 19, 1991
Hank liked to hunt. He and that Leonard Framb talked about the best way to hunt and kill deer at the Framb’s Christmas party just weeks before Jonny was killed.
Hank field-dressed a lot of deer over the years. He used to have a big buck knife.
Like the detective said was used to stab Jonny.
I can’t find that knife.
Arlen tapped his pen cap on his legal pad. Hank liked to hunt. That never came up in their interviews. Could have been because the FBI suit led the questioning and never bothered to ask that simple question.
Arlen and the suit had interrogated Franklin Framb. Leonard hadn’t been in town then. Off visiting relatives, Franklin had said. Up in Tennessee, he’d said. His wife’s family.
Arlen had spoken to Leonard about the case when he’d come back. Not that Leonard said much. A quiet man who’d gotten quieter after returning from Vietnam. Franklin was dead now and Leonard was nearing sixty.
Thirty years was too long to let a case like this molder.
He read through the next entry.
Franklin Framb. Rancher. Last seen at the feed store at the time of the abduction. Drove an old gray Chevy truck; there are multiples on the Rocking F Ranch. I didn’t see the logo on the one that passed by while I waited for Jonny.
Could it have been painted over? Or scratched off?
Detective Hardesty said the model used to abduct Jonny was a ’73. Framb trucks were purchased between ’72 and ’77. Physically, Franklin was capable.
Motive? The boys (Jonny and Trevor) pestered his son, Leonard, about his time in Vietnam. Franklin didn’t like that.
But Franklin helped with the search.
Jonny was found in his pasture.
Danielle called. He’d planned to listen to her recorded conversation with Janice, Hank’s former secretary, that evening. “I have something to give to you,” she said without preamble.
“All right. Whatcha got?”
She blew out a breath. “It looks like it was yanked from my mother’s journal. One of them. Have you noticed any pages missing?”
“Not yet,” Arlen said. “I got about eight more to go.”
“Okay. Well, the page says, Voluntary stay in Houston for hallucinations. Log says he checked out the morning of March 28, but no one saw him from 10:00 p.m. the night before.”
Arlen narrowed his eyes. “Rusty’s Trucks is between Mansfield and Houston. Up in Humble.”
“What’s that?” Danielle asked.
“Up from Houston,” Arlen said, his tone meditative. “Hmm. That could’ve worked. Can you bring those papers by?”
“Tomorrow,” Danielle said. “Our oldest son has a baseball tournament tonight.”
Arlen smiled as he leaned back in his black ergonomic chair. “I remember those days. My son, Paul, loved being out there on the field.”
“So does Kevin. It’ll be a late night and tomorrow’s my carpool day. I’ll text you a picture. Oh, and I have a Bible verse. From Janice. She took it from my dad’s briefcase.”
“Interesting,” Arlen said. “Shoot that over, too. Might not be permissible as evidence, but then, I don’t know if it’s useful.”
“Why else would my dad take it?” Danielle asked.
“Don’t know,” Arlen said. “That’s why I want to see it. I’ll finish these journals up tonight. I want to see where the ripped out page fits in your mother’s writings.”
“Chief?” Danielle asked in a hesitant voice.
Arlen’s heart lurched. “Yep?”
“My dad . . . you’re sure it wasn’t him?”