Friday, December 7
Santa Rosa County, Florida
Creed stayed close to Norwich as they entered the woods from the parking lot of the Red Roof Inn and the Waffle House. A week later, and here they were again. There wasn’t the same urgency and no rush of adrenaline. But unlike their first trip with Bolo, this time Creed kept Grace on a leash.
Sully had left a message for Sheriff Norwich. Gunner had found more bones and maybe a grave.
Norwich stopped before they headed down the ridge and into the thicket. There was no visible path. Nothing padded down. No broken branches to mark a trail.
“I don’t think I remember the way,” she confessed. “Do you?”
The woods had been pitch-dark early that morning when Sully led Creed to his camp. Creed was so exhausted he could barely keep up with the old man. Sully took him and Will back to the parking lot, but even the beginning light of dawn didn’t provide much guidance.
That morning, while the boy reunited with his mother, Sully hung back from the commotion. That’s when he gave Creed his worn canvas bucket hat. Then he gestured to Grace, who watched from the Jeep’s window. “When you decide to come over for some beans and rice, just use this. She’ll find me.”
Now, Creed pulled the canvas hat out of his daypack, showed it to Norwich, and said, “Better than a map. Sully gave it to me.”
He bent down to Grace and presented it to her with the crown facing the ground. Her nose traveled over the underbrim. She gently put a paw on it to bring it down, so she could dip her nose inside. Then she sniffed the entire length of the sweatband. When she was finished, she sat and waited.
“Grace, this is Sully. Find Sully.”
She started prancing, and he added, “We’re going slow, Grace.”
The dog understood. She didn’t tug as she weaved and sniffed and panted. Holding back took added effort, even though she knew this search wasn’t urgent.
Norwich kept pace alongside them, allowing them to go ahead when the path narrowed.
“How’s the boy doing?” she asked when the ground leveled.
Creed knew Jason was giving Taylor and Will time together, but still checking on them.
“He seems to be doing well. He told Jason he’s drawing a book about his adventures.”
“Adventures?” She smiled. “Actually, that’s probably a healthy thing for him to do. He told me Peter Gregory had chased him for hours. He thought he lost him when he climbed inside the bulldozer. But as soon as he got back on his bike, the guy was following him again.” She shook her head. “When I think about him running around those woods...all the things that could have happened. We never did find that alligator.”
“He’s lucky he ran into Sully and Gunner.”
“Yes, he is.” She was quiet for a moment, then said, “I wish Caleb would have been as lucky.”
“I heard you arrested his father.”
“The mother turned on him as soon as we told them.”
“You believe her?”
“Domestic abuse cases are often complicated. I’ll leave it to the evidence. You remember Grace alerting to his work truck in the driveway?”
“Big four-door crew cab with bags of fertilizer stacked in the bed.” At the time, he was certain it was the fertilizer that got Grace’s attention.
“We found blood in the backseat. Evidently, there had been enough of it Mr. Monroe tried to clean it up.”
They walked in silence through a narrow stretch. Creed tried to concentrate on the surroundings, so he wouldn’t need a dog to guide him each time. He already decided he’d be checking on Sully from time to time. Hannah had warned him that not everyone wanted to be rescued. She had told him this before, but it was a hard lesson that he continued to brush aside.
“Sheriff, any idea who this person could be? The bones that Gunner found. That first one looked old.”
“Maybe up to twenty years. That’s what my forensic guy said.”
“Any cold cases? Missing persons?”
He glanced at her just as she pursed her lips and shot him a look.
“It’s probably nothing,” she said. “Right now it’s only a theory, and I haven’t shared it with anyone else. I’m only telling you, because I trust the hell out of you, okay?”
“I understand.”
“When Will went missing, we asked permission to access the Ramsey’s home security system. It didn’t help much, but we monitored it off and on throughout the time Will was missing. Lucky for Dora Ramsey, it most likely will validate her claim of self-defense. Her son did come in through the garage door unexpectedly. He roughed up Carl Ramsey and zip tied his hands. He had a knife he waved around. Knowing what he did to those homeless people back in D.C., we know he was capable of using it.”
Creed wasn’t sure what any of this had to do with his question about the bones Gunner had uncovered. Still, he stayed quiet and waited.
“There was an interesting accusation Peter Gregory tossed at the Ramseys. Dora married Carl when Peter and his brother were about Will’s age. The family was driving home late one night and stopped to help a man with a stalled pickup on the side of a country road. When I heard him talking about it, it sparked a memory with me.
“About twenty years ago, I was a young deputy. Dispatch sent out that a motorist had been attacked by a transient. First deputies to get to the scene found blood and tire tracks, but no pickup. There was no sign of anyone. Thomas Gregory and the man he stopped to help were gone.”
“How did they know he was a transient?”
“At the time, there were always men coming to the area for seasonal work. I pulled up the police report. Dora Ramsey used the term. There’s no explanation how she could tell. But here’s something interesting from that police report. One of the boys said he recognized the man. That he had come to their house.”
“So the guy might have been stalking the family?”
“No. He said the man came to their house to fix things. His mother claimed the boy was too traumatized to remember. That he made up stories all the time. He had an overactive imagination.”
“So they didn’t check out the man who fixed things at their home?”
Norwich shrugged. “I haven’t seen any follow-up. Only the note on young Peter’s statement.”
“Wait a minute. You’re thinking the bones Gunner found might be Thomas Gregory?”
Another shrug as they climbed the rest of the way. “I told you. It’s just a hunch I have. Definitely a long shot. But we have Peter’s DNA. I can’t remember what they need to do to get DNA from old bones, but it’s certainly worth checking to see if we’ve finally found Thomas Gregory.”
“You said on the security camera footage Peter accused the Ramseys of something?”
“He said his nightmares had revealed the face of his father’s killer.”
Creed stopped to give her his full attention as he said, “The boy with the overactive imagination who thought he recognized the man even back then.” He knew before she answered.
“He claimed the man who killed his father was Carl Ramsey.”
Creed’s phone vibrated in his pocket. It surprised him. Usually, reception out here was spotty at best.
“Excuse me, Sheriff.”
He fished the phone out, pleased to see Maggie’s name. She’d left on Wednesday, but they had talked late last night. He hoped everything was all right.
“Hey, Maggie.”
“I know you’re out searching in the woods, but I couldn’t wait to tell you. I have an early Christmas present for you.”