We got busy, but before anything else, I called Brian back and asked if Abraham often went to Savannah and if he had friends there. He told me that Abraham had never mentioned being in Savannah and that neither of them had friends or family living in our city.
“By the way, what does Abraham do for a living?” I asked.
“He has a regional sales route for plumbing fixtures. I guess he might go to Savannah, but he doesn’t talk about his job, so who knows?”
“Okay, thanks.” I hung up and knew that was a bs job and one that couldn’t easily be verified. Abraham could make up a fictitious company name and act like he was always on the road.
Next, I made a quick call to the theft division and asked if any green trucks, possibly after 2010, had been reported missing in the last few days. The response I got was disappointing—no green truck thefts so far that month.
With those tasks checked off my list, I dug in with the hotel search already in progress. Minutes later, I felt eyes on me and looked toward the door. Standing against the frame was Danny Whitman.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked, annoyed.
“Royce said I could find you in here. Looks like you boys are hard at work.”
Rue took over. “Yeah, trying to find your sister’s killer.”
Making himself at home, Danny took a seat. “So, are you getting anywhere?”
“We’re trying, Danny, and right now, we’re really busy.”
He huffed. “Meaning I’m interfering.”
“Yeah, to a degree. You can’t sit in on private police meetings, and I don’t have time to take this conversation to my office. Is there some reason in particular that you drove down here, and shouldn’t you be at work?”
He ignored my questions.
“I saw that guy’s face on TV the last few nights. I don’t recognize him, but that’s who you think killed Kim, right?”
“As of right now, that man is a person of interest. We don’t have undeniable proof, we don’t have him in custody, and we don’t have a confession. So?”
He shook his head. “I really miss my sister. We worked together, you know.”
I looked away from my laptop and made eye contact with him. “I’m sorry Kim was murdered, and I’m sorry you lost your business partner, but in order to find the killer, we have to get back to work.”
“Yeah, okay. Sorry I bothered you.” He pushed back the chair and walked out the door.
I yelled to him, but he didn’t look back. “Damn him. Now I feel like a real jerk.”
Rue chuckled. “I’m sure that was his intention, and you walked right into it. Don’t worry about it. We’ve got work to do.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” I shook off my guilty feelings and got back to it. We still had thirteen hotels to call.
Between the four of us, we knocked those out in a half hour without luck.
“If Abraham is a hired killer, he covers his tracks well. He’s not going to make it easy for us to locate him,” Rue said.
“Then we have to think like him. Maybe hotels are too mainstream and likely the first place a cop would call. Let’s check every vacation rental and every out-of-the-way mom-and-pop motel in a twenty-mile radius.” I nodded to Lawrence. “You guys take the vacation rentals, and Rue and I will check the thirty-buck-a-night motels.”
“Roger that.”
It was midafternoon by the time we began that new search. A half hour into our calls, I grew tired of hearing no as a response to every question.
“He’s got to be staying somewhere,” I groaned.
“Keep calling,” Bentley said. “Who knows? The next motel might be the right one.”
I returned my focus to my laptop and the map of all the motels in a twenty-mile radius of Savannah. I had taken the northwest areas around the city, and Rue took the southeast areas. I’d been checking them off as I called. The next one on my list was the Stay Awhile Motel, and I mindlessly dialed the number and waited as it rang.
“Stay Awhile Motel, Betty speaking.”
“Hello, Betty. This is Detective Cannon from the Habersham PD calling.”
“Yes, how can I help you, Detective?”
“I’m wondering if you have a Ross Matson registered there.”
“One second, please.”
I tapped my pen on the desk as I waited.
“Yes, we do. Would you like me to dial his room?”
“You do! He’s registered at your motel?”
“Yes, sir. Shall I dial his room?”
“No. What’s the room number?”
“Seven.”
“Okay, don’t call him, knock on his door, or anything else. We’ll be there in ten minutes.” I hung up, let out a yell, and told the guys to saddle up. It was time to apprehend our killer.
We marched down the hallway toward the stairs. I made a quick stop at Royce’s office while the others continued to the parking lot.
“Boss, we found out where he’s staying!”
“You’re shitting me.”
“Nope, and we’re heading there now.”
Royce raised his hand to slow me down. “Hang on. I need to get Patrol out to the area and close off the exits around the motel. Where exactly is it, and what’s the name of the place?”
I told him the name and that the motel was on West Bay Street on the way to Port Wentworth.
“Okay, let’s go.” Royce jerked his head toward the door.
“You’re coming along?”
“You bet. You think I’d miss watching you snap the bracelets around his wrists?”
We headed out, Bentley and Lawrence in one cruiser and Royce, Rue, and I in another. From the precinct, it was less than a ten-minute drive. Royce had Patrol stationed on the frontage road a block from the motel entrance, and they were hidden from view of any of the room’s windows.
Minutes later, I turned onto the frontage road. Royce had a quick conversation with the patrol unit on our side and double-checked that a unit was stationed on the frontage road going in the opposite direction too. It was.
We moved in quietly and parked next to the office. I went inside to let Betty know we’d arrived and said she should close the office and lock the door for the time being.
“Do you know where the car he’s using is parked?”
“I haven’t seen it for a few days, Detective Cannon. He did have a black sedan when he checked in.”
“And how long ago was that?”
Betty tapped the computer keys then said Mr. Matson had been staying there for several weeks.
I asked her to remain inside the office until she got word from me, then I walked out. Back at the car, I told the others that the office manager hadn’t seen the black car for a few days, which made sense, and that she didn’t know what he was driving now. I scanned the length of the parking lot and didn’t see a green truck either.
“How do you want to approach this?” I asked Royce.
“We need eyes on that room first. See if the curtains are open, look for movement, maybe a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door, etcetera. I’ll have Bentley and Lawrence go around the back, see if the vehicle in question is there, and look for rear exits and windows.” Royce made the call, and we waited as Bentley and Lawrence drove around the building to check it out. Royce’s phone rang seconds later. It was Bentley calling.
“Boss, there’s a rear exit door but no cars back here.”
“Okay, we’re going to approach his room. You two watch that rear door. If any man over six foot three comes out, grab him.”
“Understood.”
Royce clicked off the call and nodded toward the center of the building. “His room should be somewhere in the middle. Let’s move in closer among the parked cars and see if we can get eyes on that room.”
The three of us climbed out of the cruiser and made our way to the parked cars.
“Rue, you go all the way to the end of the lot and work your way back. Cannon, go to the middle and keep your eyes on his room, and I’ll move in from the left.”
We took up our positions and waited. The curtains were drawn, and a ‘do not disturb’ hanger was attached to the doorknob—no help there. But where was the vehicle? Did he ditch it thinking he could move around more freely on foot? I wasn’t sure. Royce moved closer to the room from the left and Rue from the right. I hunkered down between cars in the lot and watched for movement straight ahead.
Finally, both Royce and Rue were in place, one on either side of the door. I texted them and said that I hadn’t seen movement at all and that the drapes were closed. We could make our move. With my gun drawn, I scurried over to Royce’s side. I’d be the one to put a foot into the door.
Royce sent a quick text to Bentley saying we were in place. He responded that they were too.
On Royce’s nod, I kicked in the motel room door, yelled out “Savannah police,” and heard nothing, but the odor that hit us in the face could have knocked us over.
“Son of a bitch!” I yelled. “Somebody is dead in here.”
I crossed into the bathroom and saw him. Even though his head was wrapped in a bloody towel, I knew it was Abraham. The length of his body made that perfectly clear. His legs hung over the end of the tub. I pressed my nose into my elbow, moved in, and took a quick look. There was a lot of blood on his torso too.
I backed into the main area and addressed Royce. “He’s in the tub.”
“Damn it. That just changed everything we thought we knew about this case.”