The canvass of Jack and Emma’s neighbors by patrol officers yielded one possible lead. The detectives followed through and went to interview Pat Lennon, a military vet who lived across the street.
Frantic barking from a brindle colored Shih Tzu announced their presence before the detectives knocked on the door.
“Hush, Betsy,” said Lennon as he came to the screen door. After Morrow and Henchley introduced themselves, Lennon opened the door to let them in, and Betsy bounded out and jumped up, putting his front paws on Henchley’s leg. Henchley bent down and stroked the dog which immediately quieted him down.
“Sorry about that,” Lennon said. “She likes to be acknowledged.”
“Don’t we all. We came to ask a few questions about your neighbors across the street.”
“An officer stopped by and said you might.”
“How well do you know them?”
“Don’t know them at all, not even their names. They keep to themselves. She’ll smile and say hello if I run into her on the street when I’m walking the dog, but he goes in and out in the truck so we’ve never exchanged a word. Ignores me completely, as a matter of fact. Never even waves.”
“So he never came over to ask if you’d seen any strangers in the neighborhood or unusual activity around his house?”
“Him? No.”
“Are they quiet? Noisy?”
“Quiet. I never hear them, only the truck.”
“So you’ve never heard them fighting?”
“No. Doubt if I would from this distance anyway.”
“Officer Petrovich said you’ve noticed some activity over there lately.”
“Just with the trucks. You may have noticed I have a clear view of their driveway, but the trees and bushes obscure the front of their house somewhat. I’d have to make an effort to see what might be happening at the house, which I don’t do. I’m sorry; I’m forgetting my manners. Would you like to sit down?” Lennon waved toward the living room.
“Thanks, but this won’t take long. We’re fine here. So what did you notice in the driveway?”
“He drove an old beat-up Chevy pickup. I’d guess it was originally green since most of the body was that color, but parts had been replaced. It had a tan door on the passenger side and a darker green fender on the driver’s side. One morning when the Chevy was gone, I was out front doing some yard work when a red Ford F-150 pulled up in the driveway. Didn’t stay for too long, an hour or so. Later, a black Dodge Ram turned into the driveway. It only turned in, didn’t pull up toward the house. I thought that was a bit odd, so I walked down toward the end of my yard directly across from their driveway. The driver had a paper propped against the steering wheel and was talking on a cell phone. Probably took one look at our neighborhood eyesore and figured he was in the wrong place.”
“You didn’t talk to him?”
“No. I was debating whether or not to ask him if he needed help when I saw the backup lights go on. He backed up and drove away.”
“Did you catch the license plate number?”
Lennon shook his head. “Sorry. I didn’t think it was important.”
“Did you see the Ram any other time?”
“No. Just that once. I’ve seen the red Ford since then, but not the Chevy. I figured the guy bought a new truck.”
“Do remember what day you saw the Ram?”
“The days and dates blend together after you retire so unless there’s a specific reason for me to remember, like a doctor visit, I don’t pay attention. I’d guess the end of last week, Thursday or Friday.”
“Have you seen any other activity over there that’s out of the ordinary?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t any. If I hadn’t been out front doing yard work, I wouldn’t have noticed the trucks coming and going either.”
“Have you seen any strangers in the neighborhood?”
“No.”
“Thank you for talking to us, Mr. Lennon,” Morrow said.
Henchley closed his notebook and tucked it away in his inside jacket pocket.
“May I ask a question?” Lennon asked.
“What’s that?”
“Obviously, there’s something wrong over there. Can you tell me what it is?”
“The young woman who lived there, Emma Matterson, is missing, and we’re trying to find her.” Morrow handed Lennon a business card. “Please call us if you think of anything else or see anything unusual.”
“That pretty girl is missing? Good heavens. Do you think something bad happened to her?”
“At this point, we don’t know.”
Lennon bent down and picked up Betsy who had curled up near his feet while they talked. Whether that was to keep the dog from running out when the door was opened or to protect her from an unknown threat in the neighborhood, Henchley wasn’t sure. By the way Lennon cuddled Betsy protectively in his arms, Henchley assumed it was a little of both.
“I hope you’ll find her,” Lennon said as he opened the screen door.
“That’s one definite lie we caught Sutton in,” Morrow said as he and Henchley walked back to their car.
“You mean Sutton told us he’d talked to the neighbors, yet Lennon denies it?”
“Yup.”
Without any other leads, Detectives Morrow and Henchley continued interviewing Jack’s coworkers at Sully’s Auto Repair in hopes of finding some new piece of information to further their investigation. As with Donnie Dugan, they planned to interview outside the shop after working-hours and headed toward their second interview of the day.
As the detectives pulled up at the address for Paul Morris, they saw a middle-aged woman cutting roses in varying shades of red, pink, and yellow from bushes lining the front of the brick house.
“Must be the wife.”
Not wanting to startle her, they called out “Mrs. Morris?” as they walked up the driveway. She straightened up and waited for them to approach. After introducing themselves, they asked to speak to Paul.
“I’m sorry, detectives; he stopped on his way home to do a few errands although I expect him home soon. May I ask what this is about?”
“We’re investigating a missing person and wanted to ask him a few questions about his relationship with his coworkers.”
Mrs. Morris slipped her clippers into an apron pocket. “You only have to see Paul with the other employees to know he’s quite a bit older than they are. Friendly, yes, but he doesn’t hang around with them, as the expression goes. He’ll sometimes stop in when they go to Mick’s on Friday and have a, as in one, drink with them to promote a sense of unity in the shop. Sully himself does that from time to time. Paul learns the wives’ or girlfriends’ names intentionally, but whatever else he may know about them comes from conversation he overhears in the shop.”
“So you don’t socialize with any of them?”
“Never.”
“Does he talk about them at home?” As Morrow asked the question, a vintage car pulled into the driveway.
Henchley whistled at the 1952 Mercury Monterey hardtop painted in a two-toned fanfare maroon with a raven-black top. “Now that’s one good-looking car.”
Irene waved at the driver. “Tell Paul. He’ll be so pleased. He restored it himself.” She turned back to Morrow. “Now I’ve forgotten your question.”
“I asked if Paul talked about his coworkers at home.”
“Generally, no. He did mention they got into trouble last Friday fighting in the bar after he left, but I don’t know any specifics if that’s what you wanted to know about.”
“We’re more interested in Jack Sutton.”
“Paul is better suited to answer your questions than I am.” She smiled at her husband who walked leisurely across the lawn to join them. Paul’s gray hair confirmed what his wife had said about his being older than the other employees. “Paul, these detectives came to ask you some questions.”
Paul held out his hand. “Detectives.” Morrow and Henchley each introduced himself and shook Paul’s hand.
“I’ll leave you gentleman to talk. Excuse me,” Irene said and took the flowers she’d cut inside the house.
“We’re looking into the disappearance of Jack’s Sutton’s girlfriend Emma Matterson,” Morrow said.
“I know her name, but I’ve never met her.”
“She didn’t come to the garage?”
“If she did, I’ve never put the name and face together. I’m usually buried under a hood and don’t pay a lot of attention to who’s coming or going.”
“But you’ve heard that she’s missing.”
“Yes, of course. Even I couldn’t miss that gossip at the shop.”
“You call it gossip.”
“I assume she really is missing or you wouldn’t have come to the garage or here now, for that matter. By gossip, I meant the abduction by a serial killer.”
“You don’t believe that?”
“I don’t believe; I don’t not believe. I’ll make up my mind when I get more information.”
“Do the other guys in the shop believe she’s been abducted?”
“Jose’s quiet, doesn’t say much, so it’s hard to tell what he’s thinking. Mike thinks you’ll blame Jack regardless. What he thinks about the serial killer angle, I don’t know. Donnie and Jack believe a serial killer took her.”
“Do any of the guys socialize with each other outside of work?”
“Jose’s more like me. He might have a drink with the group on Friday, but also like me, he’s older. I’ve never heard talk about his doing anything else with any of them. Mike, Donnie, and Jack are the drinkers so they interact more often. Mike’s got a decade on Donnie and Jack who are close in age. I believe those two socialize.”
“Do you think Jack is capable of hurting Emma?”
“I’d rather not speculate on that.”
“Fair enough,” Morrow said. “You have any questions, Henchley?”
“Not about the case. Do you mind if I take a peek inside the Merc?” Henchley asked Paul. “You did an incredible job restoring it.”
Paul grinned. “Thanks. Come on. I’ll show you the interior.”
“Not the most productive interview,” Morrow said later.
“He sticks to facts, but he did give a good perspective of the group dynamics.”
“True. We still have Jose and Mike to speak to, but I’m not sure either of those will be highly productive.”
“Agreed. Mike sounds more promising. He knows we’d look at Jack as a suspect.”
“But not just look. He’s already decided we’re going to ‘blame’ him. Could be he’s antagonistic toward police. We’ll check for an arrest record. If he’s got one, we’ll have to tread carefully to get anything out of him. Let’s call it a day and pick up tomorrow.”
“More like call it a night. Too bad we don’t get paid overtime.”
Good news awaited the detectives in the morning.
“Progress,” Henchley announced when Morrow entered the office. “I got an email from Roseburg PD. As we requested, they’ve sent photos of the homicide victims. Looks like we’ve got multiples of each one.”
“What’s the first one look like?” Morrow asked as he walked around the desks to see the screen on Henchley’s computer.
“Hold on. I’m opening the attached file.”
The photo was a close-up of a 50-year-old Hispanic woman with long black hair. They quickly skimmed through the other photos.
“Looks like that ends Jack’s serial killer profile theory,” Morrow said. “She looks nothing like our missing person.”
“Or their second victim. The detective who sent this wants to know why we’re asking. Do you want to call him or should I?”
“I’ll call if you’ll go check with the lab to see if they have any results on the evidence from that burglary case,” Morrow replied.
Henchley returned from the lab shaking his head, “Nothing yet.”
“Roseburg does think they have two victims by the same shooter, but the victims aren’t linked by physical appearance. They’re investigating the angle that both women worked at an abortion clinic. We agreed our missing person has nothing to do with their case.”
“So we’re left with a runaway or foul play.”
Captain Brooks stuck his head into the detectives’ cubicle. “Morrow, Henchley, I want to see you in my office.”
Morrow rolled his eyes, but stood up as Henchley did, to follow the captain.
“I’ve heard some grumblings that you two aren’t keeping up with your caseload,” Captain Brooks said.
“We’ve been spending most of our time on a missing person’s case that might well turn into a homicide.”
“Tell me what you’ve got.”
Morrow took the lead and summarized their investigation to date. “We simply can’t find any concrete evidence one way or the other. Circumstances around Sutton are ‘squirrely’ as Finney likes to say. Makes Sutton a candidate for committing foul play. He’s got motive, plenty of opportunity, and as far as means, he has an injured right hand with bruised knuckles—the type of injury that comes from hitting someone. We don’t have any other weapon, but since we don’t have a body either, a fist would work. We’ve got two more interviews with his coworkers and unless we pick up a lead from them, our leads dry up.”
“We had patrol canvass the bus station and the streets from Sutton’s house to the bus station,” Henchley added. “Nothing came from it. It might have helped if we had had a decent picture of her or so much time hadn’t passed since she disappeared. Patrol also canvassed Sutton’s neighborhood. Petrovich identified one neighbor as a possible. We talked to him but nothing came of it, other than exposing Sutton as a liar. Looks like it’s go to the media and ask for help or pull Sutton in for a formal interrogation and sweat him.”
“Finish the interviews with the coworkers first. Then let’s try the public appeal route before you interrogate Sutton, but keep it local for now. After you get the press release organized, spend some time on your other cases before any new leads come in.”
“Let’s ask Sutton for another picture of Matterson,” Henchley said as he and Morrow walked back to their cubicle. “The only one we have is from her driver’s license. If the media blows that up, it’s going to be grainy.”
“How about we ride over to the garage now to ask Sutton and get things rolling. We know he had one photo until it got covered up with a truck. Did you see any other photos when we searched the house?”
“There were some in that transparent plastic box on the closet shelf, but I didn’t look closely at them. Hopefully, there’s another recent one. Sutton can hunt tonight and give us a call in the morning. Meantime, I’ll put the verbiage for the press release together.”
Over a thousand miles away, Emma had no idea her photo was soon going to be flashed across thousands of TV screens in Lost Pine and the surrounding area.