Gardendale Drive
12:50 p.m.
Bobbie left Devine waiting in his car in her driveway. He usually stuck to her like glue, probably a direct order from the chief. She’d used the excuse that she needed to grab a tampon and he’d smiled and said he’d wait in the car. Still, if she lingered too long he might decide avoiding the awkwardness was not as scary as angering the chief. She had to hurry.
In the spare bedroom she moved aside a couple of boxes, finding the one she wanted. She sat down on the floor and opened the box. Hanover’s insinuations would not stop eating at her. She needed to see if he was in any of the photographs from her parents’ life before she was born. This particular box held the family albums her mother and father had created. There were five albums that predated her mother’s death and only two that came after. Her father hadn’t been quite as good at putting memories onto the pages. As a teenager she’d helped him for a while, and then she’d gone off to college and the only photo albums were the ones on her laptop and cell phone.
She picked through the albums until she found the one that contained photos of her mom’s life from high school through the first couple of years of marriage. Her parents had married the day after she graduated high school. Her father, being seven years older, had already finished college and the police academy. He wore his newly issued dress blues for their wedding.
Mary Jane Fleming had been beautiful. Both her father and the chief had always said Bobbie looked just like her mother. Not in Bobbie’s opinion. Her mother was much prettier. Bobbie peered at the photos of her mother’s friends from school. There were only a few group photos. Mary Jane never attended college. She always said she’d gone straight from her parents’ home to her husband’s. From solving calculus equations and writing essays to preparing dinner and eventually changing diapers. She’d sworn that it was the best decision she’d ever made. The memories made Bobbie’s heart glad.
Her smile fading, she reached for the envelope Hanover had given her. She removed the four photos he had tucked inside. Her mother was pictured in each one, but none of her other friends were with her. The people in the photos were complete strangers to Bobbie. Looking at this piece of her mother’s past made Bobbie oddly uncomfortable. She shoved the photos back into the envelope.
Was Hanover suggesting he and her mother had a more intimate relationship than that of mere acquaintances? Her mother appeared to be older in the photos. Her hairstyle had changed since her high school days. Bobbie reviewed the photos from her parents’ first years of marriage. They’d been married almost five years before Bobbie was born. She decided those early years were the time frame in which the photos Hanover had given her were taken.
Why was her father not in any of the photos? Had Hanover taken the photos? He wasn’t pictured in any of them, either.
She made herself look at them again. The group, four women and two men, weren’t in a house or school. The place looked more like a club. One of the photos had captured part of what appeared to be a jukebox. She squinted to read a sign on the wall: Rusty Fiddle. Bobbie didn’t recognize the name. Had her mother been going out with these people while her father worked? Her dad had told her many times that his working the night shift had made their marriage pretty miserable those first few years.
Bobbie packed the albums back into the box. She tossed the photos Hanover had given her on top. She knew Hanover’s game. He was trying to unsettle her. As he had with Devine, he had succeeded.
The real question was why did an innocent man need to put them off balance?
There was only one answer.
Hanover was hiding something that might incriminate him.
A knock on her front door made her jump.
“Damn.”
She’d lost all track of time. She got to her feet, straightened her jacket and adjusted her Glock. So what if her mom had known Hanover. That didn’t mean anything. He was using the vague connection to throw Bobbie off her game. She had two missing women and at least one murderer to find.
Another knock on the door echoed as she reached it. She checked the viewfinder. Devine. She opened the door. “Sorry. It took longer than I expected.”
“I don’t mean to rush you,” he apologized, “but the lieutenant says the Parker boy’s aunt needs to see us as soon as possible.”
Sage Parker was tucked away with a security detail at the Renaissance Hotel downtown. If they were lucky the boy had remembered something that would help their case. “Let’s roll.”
Bobbie set the security system and locked up. They could use a break and she damned sure needed something to take her mind off Hanover and his innuendoes. Maybe she would discuss his insinuations about her mother with Nick. Hanover hadn’t stated they had a relationship and the pictures could have been taken by anyone, but it was in all the things he didn’t say...the way he looked at Bobbie and the tone of his voice.
Mark Hanover wanted her to believe he knew something she didn’t.
Renaissance Hotel
2:15 p.m.
Two FBI agents and one MPD officer, all females, waited outside the suite where Sage Parker and his aunt were sequestered. Chairs and a table had been provided for their comfort. The officer stepped forward as Bobbie and Devine approached.
“Ma’am,” Officer Springer, according to her name tag, acknowledged Bobbie and then nodded to Devine. “Mrs. Lowery asked that you come in alone, Detective Gentry.”
Bobbie glanced at Devine. “No problem.” She had explained to her partner how the boy had reacted whenever a man came into his hospital room. Obviously that fear hadn’t subsided.
Devine gave a nod. “Why don’t I stand in for you, Springer, while you have a break.”
One of the agents stepped forward. “I’ll need to see your ID, Detective.”
Bobbie showed her badge and while Devine and Springer chatted, she knocked on the door. Marla Lowery opened it and welcomed her inside. The living area of the suite was spacious and well appointed. A television inside an armoire was set to a channel that displayed the security detail outside the door.
“They wanted me to be able to see whatever was going on outside the door.” She gestured to the television. “If I see anything that concerns me I’m supposed to call 9-1-1.”
“Standard procedure. Try not to be overly concerned.” Bobbie looked around, didn’t see the boy.
“Any news about Fern?”
The hopeful expression on Marla’s face made Bobbie wish she had better news. “Nothing yet, but we’re doing all we can.”
Marla nodded, her hopeful expression shifting to one of despair. “Agent Hadden said the same thing when he came by this morning.”
Bobbie understood that time was moving incredibly slowly to Marla. Her family and home were in Nashville. Maybe they would catch a break today. “I was told Sage wanted to speak with me.”
“He’s in his room playing video games.” Marla indicated the bedroom on the left. The suite had two, one on either side of the living area. “I’ve been talking to him and trying to help him see that the sooner we figure out who hurt his family, the sooner this person can be caught and his sister can be found.”
Bobbie appreciated the aunt’s efforts. “Has he remembered something?” They should be so lucky.
Marla made a face. “He won’t tell me. He insisted he had to speak with you. I’ll get him for you.”
Bobbie sat down on the sofa while Marla spoke softly to the boy in the other room. The sound of his video game hushed and then the two of them joined Bobbie. Sage offered a quick smile and a vague wave.
Bobbie patted the sofa next to her. “Why don’t you have a seat and tell me what you’ve been up to, Sage.”
He glanced at his aunt. She picked up on the cue. “I need to call my daughters and see how everything’s going.”
When she’d disappeared into the other bedroom, Sage looked up at Bobbie. “I dreamed about...that night.”
Bobbie gave him a sad smile. “I’m sorry. I know this is really hard.”
He stared at his hands, one of the game controllers still clasped there. “I miss them.”
Bobbie resisted the urge to drape her arm around his shoulders. He might not appreciate the gesture. “I sure missed my mom after she died. I was about your age.”
He exhaled a big breath. “How long does it last?” He looked up at her again.
“A while,” she admitted. “I wish I could tell you it’s fast, but it’s not. At first it’s really hard every day, all day.”
“Nights are the worst,” he said. “I can play my games and do my homework and not think about it in the daytime, but when I try to go to sleep it all comes back.”
“Eventually, it won’t hurt as much. You won’t think about it as much.” Bobbie was halfway through the next school year after her mother died when she realized she didn’t think about her every minute of every day. That realization, too, had come with some measure of sadness. “You’ll do other things. Make new memories.”
He nodded. “I have to make all new friends. New teachers.” He exhaled another big breath. “A new family with three more girls. One was bad enough.”
Bobbie laughed. “I’ll bet your sister is your hero.”
He peeked up at her, his eyes glistening. “Sometimes.”
“I know she can’t wait to give you a big hug. She loves you. Your parents loved you very much. Never forget that.”
He nodded, his face clouded with sadness.
“Did you remember something you wanted to tell me?”
Sage looked around the room as if he wanted to be sure no one was listening. His gaze stumbled on the television screen where Devine and the agents were standing around making small talk.
When the boy sat silently staring at the screen, Bobbie offered, “Would you like me to turn that off or close the door to your aunt’s room?”
He shook his head, then stared up at Bobbie. “I saw the man.”
Bobbie’s heart thumped hard against her sternum. Was he talking about the dream? “When?”
“Not the first time when I heard him saying the bad words. That night. When my mom and dad...” He shrugged those skinny little shoulders. “I didn’t want to tell you. I was afraid he’d find out I saw him and come back and get me. Like in that movie I watched with my sister. She said the witnesses get killed most of the time.”
Bobbie nodded. “I won’t lie to you and tell you that never happens, Sage.”
His eyes grew even rounder.
“But,” she added, “we’re keeping you safe until we catch him so you don’t have to be afraid. The truth is, you can help your sister by telling me the whole truth about that night.”
He blew out a big breath. “I woke up. It was quiet so I figured everyone was asleep.”
Bobbie held her breath and waited for him to continue.
“My parents weren’t in their bed. I went to my sister’s room and she wasn’t in her bed, either.”
“Did you go looking for them?”
He moved his head up and down. “It was dark upstairs, but I could hear the TV in the living room. I thought maybe they were watching a movie. Sometimes they watched movies real late, especially if it was one I wasn’t supposed to see. I made it to the stairs and that’s when I saw him.”
“Where was he?”
“In the living room.” He swallowed hard. “He was carrying my mom.” He shrugged. “She was asleep or something.”
Cold seeped deep into Bobbie’s bones. “Did he see you?”
Sage shook his head. “He didn’t look up.”
“Did you see his face?”
“Not at first, he was wearing a mask.” Sage turned the video game controller over in his hands. “He stopped for a minute. That’s when he pulled off the mask and wiped his forehead like he was sweating or something. He almost dropped my mom doing it.” Sage shuddered. “Before he went down the stairs he looked over at the back door and then at the front. I guess the siren outside surprised him or something.”
“Siren?” Bobbie tensed. “You heard a siren outside?”
He nodded. “You know, the ambulance kind of siren. Like there was an accident or somebody sick.”
“I know what you mean,” she said hoping to urge him on.
“The man,” he said, “he held real still until the sound went away. I couldn’t move. I felt like I was frozen. I knew if he looked up he’d see me.”
Bobbie forced in a breath. “Can you remember what he looked like?”
Another nod bobbed his head up and down.
Adrenaline ignited hard and swift. She needed a sketch artist right now. Bobbie reached for her phone. “I’m going to call someone to help us draw his picture.”
Sage peered up at her, his eyes wide with worry and uncertainty. “I can show you what he looked like.”
“Okay.” Bobbie lowered her phone. She looked from Sage to the newspaper and magazines on the table. “Show me.”
Rather than pick up one of the magazines or papers as she’d expected, he got up and walked across the room to the armoire that held the television. He pointed to the screen. “He looked like that.”
Blood roaring in her ears, Bobbie pushed to her feet and made her way to where he stood. “Like what?”
He pointed again. “Like him.”
Sage Parker pointed at her partner... Steven Devine.