Ramona Richards - The Taking Of Carly Bradford

Jenna paused in her flower review and smiled. “Certainly. Follow me, and I’ll show you where the glasses are.” She took his arm, and they turned for the house.

Once they were out of earshot, Wayne also rose. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Tyler waved away the apology. “I shouldn’t have let her follow us down here. The whole town will know about the connection today.” He reached to adjust his hat, then realized he didn’t have it on. “What do you have?”

Wayne pointed a gloved hand at the open Dumpster-type receptacle. “The dress is spread out as if it’s on display.”

Tyler looked. The blue gingham dress lay draped across two plastic garbage bags, one of which had been ripped open, so that paper, eggshells and days-old milk had leaked out into the can and over the dress. Tyler winced at the odor. “So the kidnapper intended for it to be found.”

“I think so. If he had wanted to hide it or just dispose of it, it would have been simpler just to shove it down in the can beneath the bags.”

“A message. But why here? Why not leave it on a bench in town or some other place like that?”

“My guess is that it would be too risky. Someone might see it, or the dress could be picked up. Here it’s protected, yet it’s doused in a forensic soup. No way we’re going to get an uncontaminated clue out of this. Since Jenna’s the florist, her hours and routine are easy to determine. And he knew that Jenna would be following the case and would spot it right away.”

Both men stood silent for a moment, then Wayne cleared his throat. “I’ve finished processing everything I could. I’m ready to bag it.”

Tyler nodded and stepped back, watching as Wayne eased the dress out of the garbage with a pair of tongs and slipped it into a brown paper bag. “Any blood?”

Wayne shook his head. “Not that I could see. You know it’ll take weeks to process this at the lab.”

“I’d rather they be thorough than quick. We’ve made enough mistakes already in this case.”

Wayne paused and looked his boss over carefully. “Not anymore than another team might have. Why are you being so hard on yourself with this?”

Tyler’s eyes narrowed. “Because Jack and Nancy Bradford are still missing their eight-year-old daughter.”

Wayne opened his mouth to respond, but a door slammed, and they turned to see Fletcher and Jenna returning. Jenna smiled at them as they entered the light cast by the spot, but the stoic Fletcher showed no emotion at all. Tyler focused on Jenna, slipping his fingers around her arm and pulling her to his side. He lowered his voice as he pointed to the trash can. “Jenna, we’re done here, but you know we’d appreciate it if you would keep this to yourself for a bit. We don’t want any wild speculations getting back to Jack and Nancy before we have a chance to talk with them. You know how it is.”

Jenna glowed at his confidence in her, as he had hoped. “Of course, Tyler. I’ll keep it quiet until you say otherwise.” She held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

“Thank you.” Tyler released her and motioned Wayne and Fletcher to follow him. They remained silent as they returned to the cars. Wayne left with the evidence he’d gathered as Tyler and Fletcher settled into the sedan. Tyler scratched the patient Patty behind her ears, barely glancing at his friend as they fastened their seat belts and left the house.

Tyler finally cleared his throat. “Everything okay?”

Fletcher gave a quick nod. “That woman talks more than anyone I’ve met in a long time. And clingy. She never left my side. Kept trying to pump me for info.” He rolled his shoulders, as if to push away the encounter.

Tyler fought a smile. This wasn’t the first time Fletcher’s striking Eurasian looks had gotten him unwanted attention. Women around Mercer found Fletcher to be both handsome and exotic, and some never resisted the temptation to flirt shamelessly. Such attention, however, never failed to annoy the happily married detective. “I appreciate you getting her away from the scene. See anything else suspicious in the house?”

Fletcher glanced at him, then finally grinned. He straightened his shoulders, as if to shake off the last of Jenna’s advances. “No. The kitchen and living room were clean, just the usual clutter of a house that’s actually used. Not a lot of light. She said she’d been cleaning, and the dishwasher was running. She went on about how expensive the heating oil had been this winter, and that she was having trouble with air in her pipes making them rattle. She talked about her daughter, told me she’d been following Carly’s story.”

Tyler looked out the window at the passing suburban houses. They all looked so…normal…“Yeah. Elaine. Wayne and I discussed that might be why the kidnapper left the dress with her.”

“She said any mother worth her salt would be watching around every corner.”

“Like Dee.”

“You think it was her mother’s instinct that made Dee fight for the sandals?”

Tyler nodded. “She’s still a bit of a wounded bird, as you well know. Stronger, but the idea of losing a child resonates deeply with her.”

Fletcher swung the car through a turn and headed for downtown Mercer. “You want me to drop you at the house or the station?”

“The station. I’ll make sure Wayne doesn’t need anything else from me right now, then walk home. Patty’s been patient, so I’m sure she’d love a chance to stretch her legs.”

Fletcher pulled into a parking spot in front of the storefront office, and Tyler got out, snapping his fingers for Patty, who bounded out of the car and halfway up the block and back before Tyler could reach the door. The Mercer police station, a converted storefront, had been both a dime store and a bank in years gone by. Now it held Mercer’s tiny force of five officers, a dispatcher, and Wayne, who did double duty as detective and crime scene specialist. One of their three dispatchers always sat behind the front desk to greet visitors and direct them to the proper officer for a complaint. A cheaply paneled wall separated the front from the bull pen area where the officers and Wayne had desks. The wall extended the width of the building, creating a front hall and waiting area.

Two doors in the wall allowed access to the back. One led to the bull pen. The other opened onto a narrow hallway leading to the police chief’s office and two interrogation rooms.

A bell clanged over Tyler’s head as he pulled the door open, and the third shift dispatcher, Sally, looked up. She acknowledged her boss with a nod of the head toward the bull pen door. “Wayne beat you back by about five minutes. Anything I can do?”

“Thanks. Think we’re covered.” He entered the bull pen, Patty trotting behind him. Normally silent at this hour, the room echoed with Wayne’s shuffling evidence bags and paperwork. Tyler sat down next to his desk. “You going to stay long?”

Wayne shook his head. “I’m going to lock everything in my desk, then e-mail the lab to let them know I’m sending the dress and shoes tomorrow.”

“Take them.”

Wayne paused in his work. “What?”

“I want you to deliver them. I’ll call Rick before I leave and see if his folks can put a little pressure on the process.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Tomorrow will mostly be spent with the Bradfords. I want to show them the shoes and dress first thing. Then you can take them.”

Wayne hesitated. “Show them before—”

“They’ll know whether they’re Carly’s.”

“Tyler, I don’t—”

“Tyler.” The sharp voice interrupted them, cutting through the deliberation. They turned toward the door, where Sally stood, distress on her face. She continued without pausing. “The security alarm at the retreat is going off.”