Lynette Eason - Christmas Cover-Up

He grimaced and reached up to rub the back of his neck, as though he needed reassurance it was still in one piece. “We’re making someone uncomfortable. Someone who knows we’re investigating your sister’s kidnapping.”

For the first time in a long time, hope sprouted. “If we’re making someone uncomfortable in regards to Lucy’s kidnapping, we must be onto something.”

“I think that diner was a huge clue.”

“So why wasn’t it in the report?”

“That’s a question for Detective Miller.” He gave her a grim smile. “Plus we have an eyewitness. Bobby Young said he saw the man clear as day.”

“Is he on his way to the precinct to work with the sketch artist?”

“He is.”

Katie pulled out her phone and dialed the number she hadn’t used in a year. He answered on the third ring. “Miller here.”

“Hi, Frank. It’s Katie Randall.” Silence greeted her. “Lucy Randall’s sister.”

“I know who you are. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you’d have some time to discuss my sister’s case with me.”

He grunted. “You’re back on that, are you?”

She didn’t let his gruffness deter her. “I am.”

“You working with that guy from Finding the Lost?”

“Yes.”

He huffed a sigh. “All right. Sure. I don’t know what else you think I can tell you that I didn’t tell him, but how about four o’clock tomorrow afternoon here at the station?”

“I’ll be there.”

She hung up and filled Jordan in. “Do you mind if I come along?” he asked.

“Not at all.”

“I wonder what he’ll have to say about the diner.”

“Good question. But until then, I’m curious to see if Mr. Wray has anything to add to his story about why he was in my house.”

“Shall we find out?”

She glanced at her watch. “Let’s see if we can catch him before he heads to dinner.”

* * *

Jordan followed Katie into the jail. The usual chaos—ringing phones, chattering of law enforcement and curses from recently arrested criminals—filled the air. It reminded him of his detective days before he’d applied to the FBI and gotten the case that had turned his life upside down.

But he wasn’t here to think about that. Right now he wanted to know if Mr. Wray had anything else to add to his story.

Katie had called ahead and asked for him to be brought into one of the private areas where prisoners met with those involved in their legal activities. Katie paced the length of the small room while Jordan leaned against the table.

She said, “I wonder if he’s retained a lawyer yet.”

“Probably a public defender. I looked a little deeper into his past last night. He was on probation. His latest crime will land him here for a good long while.”

“Then maybe he won’t have anything to lose by talking to us now.”

“Maybe.”

She shot him a glance and then looked at her watch. “Wonder what’s taking so long?”

“He’s probably at dinner.”

She grimaced. “Is it already that time? I forgot how late it was.”

“Your headache gone?”

“The one from this morning is. However, I have a feeling Mr. Wray may spark another one.”

The door opened and Jordan straightened.

An officer said, “Mr. Wray won’t be coming in.”

“Why’s that?” Katie asked.

“Because he’s being transported to the hospital. There was a fight on the way to the dining hall. He was stabbed in the throat.”

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