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Tom and Sid’s discussion with Etta took less than twenty minutes, including the seven silent ones between her house and the hospital. Gathering no case information beyond that on Kate’s recording, the senior detective learned more about the victim herself.
“Something’s off,” he said, after the two men were summarily ushered out of the octogenarian’s house.
Sid said, “Other than your interrogation skills?”
“Her frustration has nothing to do with me. Look, she may simply be an angry victim of an assault on her privacy and safety. But in my opinion, there’s a lot more beneath the surface.”
***
TORY’S TREASURES WERE closer to old junk, at least from Tom’s vantage point by the entrance. Nevertheless, the parking lot was full—three tourist busses and a dozen or so automobiles—and so was the store.
The thirty-something man at the register put down his comic book when the officers entered. “Where can I direct you gentlemen? Looking for anything specific?”
“Bryan Porter,” Sid said.
“Sorry, he’s not working today.”
“Any idea where we might find him?”
“I just watch the counter. Check with the office lady. Take aisle four all the way back.”
“Thanks,” Tom said.
A picture window on the back wall revealed the tiny office. A woman, probably in her late fifties, sat at the desk with the view of the store. Smoke from a cigarette encircled her head, blending in with her mostly gray disheveled hair. The pungent odor hung in the short hallway by the door. She gazed at her visitors as she crushed the butt in the already overfilled ashtray.
Tom introduced himself and his partner as he showed the woman his badge. “Man up front said you might know where Bryan Porter is today.”
“At home, I’d guess.”
“We checked there,” Sid said.
“City Hall maybe. He likes to go and stir things up sometimes.”
“Any other guesses?”
“To be honest, Bryan hasn’t been in the store for a while.”
She stood up and extended her hand to each man. Her petite stature, belied by the raspy, deep voice. “I’m his cousin, Sylvia. I do the books and keep an eye on things.”
“Your last name?” Sid asked, taking out his notepad.
“Lockhart.”
“Does your husband help with the store too?”
“Never been married. My mother was Bryan’s aunt.”
“When was the last time you saw your cousin?” Tom asked.
She shuffled some papers scattered across the desk and held one so Tom could read it. “I filled this out for him to review and sign two weeks ago. It’s due to the state of Missouri by the end of next month, so I haven’t pressed it, but I did leave a message.”
“Did he say when he’d be in?”
“Never returned my call.”
“Aren’t you worried about him?”
“This is not unusual for Bryan. But, yeah, I sent one of the kids who work for us to check on him. He was sitting on his porch.”
“And that was when?”
“Five days ago, three days ago, and yesterday. The kid said Bryan had different clothes on, so I figured he was still alive.”
Tom stifled a snicker as he handed her his card. “Please tell him to contact us as soon as possible. He can come to our office in City Hall or phone that number.”
She pinned the card to a small bulletin board close to the door and returned to her desk. When Tom glanced back halfway down aisle four, Sylvia was on the phone having an animated conversation, the newly lit cigarette hanging from her lips.
“Charming family,” Sid said.
“Explains a lot,” Tom commented. “I think she called him when we left. Let’s drop by his house on the way back to the office. Maybe he ignored our knock before.”
As they pulled out of the parking lot, dispatch radioed for them to see Larry Allen at his job site. No additional information was provided by Palmer when he requested the relay.
“I wager Allen has been chewing Dan about releasing the lot again,” Tom said.
“No bet.”
Allen wasn’t in his office trailer when the detectives arrived, but he came charging out of the building before they could find someone to ask about his location. His face was flush and his jaw taut when he met them halfway across the still unfinished lot. Tom knew the man had a temper, but he’d never seen him this upset.
“Where have you been? I spoke to Lieutenant Palmer hours ago.”
“We came as soon as possible,” Tom said, glancing at Sid.
“Good thing Porter didn’t do anything worse than rant and rave at me.”
“Porter was here?” Tom asked.
“Tell me you’re surprised he violated the restraining order.”
“This happened today?”
“No. Last week, and then last night.”
“Why did you wait to call Lieutenant Palmer?”
“Last week I reminded Porter about the protection order. He left in a huff but didn’t make much of a scene, so I was going to ignore it. But last night he went crazy. It took me and another guy to get him off the lot.”
“Can we go somewhere to discuss what happened?” Tom asked.
“I don’t want to discuss it. I want you to take care of it. I’ve got a business to run and have lost enough time trying to fend off this lunatic.”
Tom said, “Mr. Allen, I understand you’re upset, but we need specifics to file an official complaint. How about your office?”
Allen’s brow furrowed, his face now a light pink. He turned sharply and made a beeline to the trailer. Opening the door, he waited at the bottom of the two steps for the detectives to enter. When he joined them, he motioned to the office toward the back of the unit. He leaned against his worktable and bowed his head.
“I shouldn’t take my anger out on you guys,” he said with a sincere smile. “But the man gets more and more erratic with every attack.”
“Tell us about the times he’s approached you. How does he act? What does he say?”
“How much time do you have?”
“Whatever it takes,” Tom said.
Allen spent the next several minutes criticizing Porter’s suit against the city. His voice became louder and more enraged with each point as he denied the veracity of the accusations. He then recounted each time Porter visited the job site or City Hall to accost the councilman. In the end, he stopped in midsentence and shook his head.
“What I’ve told you is summarized in the request for the restraining order. I’m not sure what can be accomplished by going over the details.”
Tom glanced over the notes he’d been taking. “One thing is missing in both your complaint and what you’ve told us today. Give us specifics about what you call Porter’s ravings. You’ve mainly identified accusations he made in his suit against Branson. Has he raised additional claims, demands, or threats toward you or your company?”
“The truth is what he says, the words, don’t make sense. He’s like a gnat flying around your head but really loud and in your face.”
Sid chimed in with a different approach. “Mr. Allen, if we know more about Porter’s beef with you, it may help us talk to him and call him off.”
“That’s the weird thing. He attacks my family in general, like you all ruined my life. Last night he went on about how the truth will come out. More than once he’s said we took what was rightfully his.”
“Have you discussed this with your family?” Sid asked.
“Numerous times.”
“How did they respond?”
“Uncle Randy says Porter was a troubled boy and has grown into a troubled man.”
“That’s it?” Tom asked.
“Neither my uncle, nor my grandfather, comprehend the rants any more than I do.”
***
“LIGHT’S ON. MAYBE HE’S home,” Tom said as Sid parked in front of Porter’s house.
Sid said, “The least he could do is leave his truck outside the garage, so we’d know.”
“We can mention that next time we see him.”
Several knocks brought no response, so Sid wrote a note on the back of his card and slipped it between the door and the jamb. Before Sid could start the car, Porter drove by the house, speeding up as he passed.
“He can’t seriously be avoiding us,” Sid said.
“All evidence to the contrary. Let’s follow him. He’ll probably pull over.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“I guess we’ll have something else to talk to him about.”
They caught up with him at a stop sign at the intersection of his road and Highway 76. He was two cars in front of them. When he turned onto a side road into an old residential area, they followed. Tom put the emergency light on the dash and turned on the red beacon. Porter sped up for a couple blocks, but Sid closed the gap without effort. Tom flicked the siren on and off, causing one shrill bleep. One more block and Porter pulled to the right and parked.
Tom walked to the driver’s side of Porter’s truck. The window came down slowly. “Guess you didn’t see us at your house.”
“Didn’t notice. I remembered I had to be somewhere. Then I saw someone tailing me and I panicked.”
“Maybe you missed the light and siren too.”
“To be fair, Tom, that’s when I pulled over, as soon as I saw it was you.”
“We need to talk, Bryan.”
“Like I said, I’m on my way some place right now.”
“Not back to Councilman Allen’s construction site, I hope.”
Porter shook his head.
“Okay. It’s getting late. Come by the station nine o’clock tomorrow morning and be prepared for a long talk.”