Heads up, p.10
Heads Up, page 10
Cavanaugh agreed with that.
“And if she was abducted and killed?” Bonnie asked.
“We might find a hint as to why or some connection in here.”
“Exactly,” Bonnie said. “But if she wanted to disappear on purpose, I’m thinking it’s what we don’t see that will be important.”
“You thinking the brother was an abuser of some sort?”
“Just one of many possible theories,” Bonnie said. “But that lack of family pictures on the wall and that lack of receptionist kind of got me wondering.”
Cavanaugh nodded. “And the mention that the place had a basement was strange as well. Not many houses in this area have basements.”
“And all three of those things are perfectly innocent on the surface,” Bonnie said.
“What does your super-detective sense tell you?” Cavanaugh asked her, smiling.
“That I need to take off my cape, turn on my super-detail vision, and look through all this stuff,” Bonnie said.
“Super speed, too?” Cavanaugh asked.
“Nah, detail vision can slow a woman right down.”
Cavanaugh just laughed, shook his head, and turned to the boxes. Bonnie just smiled at him, a light in her eye as she sipped her coffee.
He knew when to stop and he had a hunch that stopping right there was the perfect place on that conversation.
CHAPTER THIRTY
January 19th, 2019
Cavanaugh’s Home
Las Vegas, Nevada
Bonnie couldn’t really believe how comfortable she felt in Cavanaugh’s home. She had just relaxed when she had gone through the front door and smelled the brewing coffee. And his shout that he had been in the kitchen just felt right, like they had been doing the same thing for a long time.
Comfortable, just everything about Cavanaugh and his home made her feel. Comfortable and respected.
She had no idea what was happening with her being around Cavanaugh, but at the moment she decided she wasn’t going to question it, just enjoy it.
They spent until after eight in the evening and two cups of coffee each, going through the papers Danny had given them. From everything Bonnie could tell, Myra had been a good student in school and liked her job. But by the time they finished, Bonnie could see a couple of pretty glaring holes in all the information.
She and Cavanaugh went back into the kitchen and sat at the kitchen table, Bonnie nursing the last of her second cup of coffee and Cavanaugh sipping on a bottle of water.
“What did you think?” he asked.
“Where was she living when she vanished?”
Cavanaugh nodded. “I wondered that as well, and it wasn’t in the case file either, so my gut sense is that she was living with the brother. And I noticed there was not one mention of the boyfriend in her brother’s stuff.”
Bonnie nodded. “That was the second thing that jumped out at me. I don’t think the brother knew about the boyfriend.”
“The file cleared the boyfriend of any possible wrongdoing because he was back east when she vanished,” Cavanaugh said. “But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t involved.”
“Think Jacob could find the boyfriend?” Bonnie asked, smiling.
“I think he could find a dime under a couch in New York if it was referenced on the internet. I was shocked that he found those floor plans of the hotel so quickly earlier.”
Bonnie glanced at her watch. It was just a little after eight. So she took out her phone and called Jacob.
“Yup, we’re working,” she said in response to what Jacob said when he answered. She clicked on speaker. “On speaker with Cavanaugh. We’re wondering if there is any chance you could track down the boyfriend.”
“Hang on,” he said. “Might take me a minute.”
With that they could hear computer keys clicking, but Jacob said nothing more.
Cavanaugh just smiled at her and mouthed “Amazing.”
She agreed with that completely. She had always been proud of Jacob and liked him as a person. But now, after only a day of working with him, her respect for her own son was growing by the minute.
“Name is Devon Daniels,” Jacob said. “He now lives outside of Seattle. Married to a Missy Craig, one kid. Sending you a picture of the family and their address. Seems he does something for Boeing.”
“Thanks,” Bonnie said.
“And should have the lists for you tomorrow,” Jacob said. “And my friend in San Francisco got the DNA sample, will have a preliminary result back to me tomorrow as well so that I can run for familial matches.”
“Thanks,” Cavanaugh said. “Really appreciate it.”
“And thanks for the dinner,” Jacob said.
With that he hung up.
Bonnie clicked off her phone, smiling.
“I really like your son,” Cavanaugh said. “Efficient, blunt, and wastes no time on anything.”
“Yeah, I kind of like him as well.”
At that moment Bonnie’s phone dinged. It was the picture and address of the boyfriend.
She opened the picture and just sat there, staring, not really believing what she was seeing.
“Want to grab that file picture of Myra?” she said to Cavanaugh.
He nodded, looking puzzled, and went and got it, sliding it across the kitchen table at her and then moving to stand behind her.
She looked at it, then at the picture Jacob had sent her.
“Son of a bitch,” Cavanaugh said softly.
“I think we just solved our missing person case,” Bonnie said, looking at Missy Craig, aka Myra Stemple.
“I think you may be right,” Cavanaugh said, softly.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
January 19th, 2019
Cavanaugh’s Home
Las Vegas, Nevada
“So we solved the missing person case,” Cavanaugh said, moving around and sitting back down at the kitchen table across from Bonnie. “But I’m not sure we should tell anyone yet.”
Bonnie nodded. She had been getting to that same conclusion almost instantly.
The silence in his kitchen was thick, but not uncomfortable as they both sat and tried to work out their next move on this case. He had spent many an evening and sometimes mornings sitting here at this table doing the same exact thing, working over a case, sometimes taking notes, but mostly just thinking.
Clearly Myra had wanted to leave, and had gone to extreme measures, with a long-standing group of some sort or another, to do so. That means she considered herself in mortal danger, and others who knew about her situation did as well.
But there was nothing in the files or in Myra’s history that showed any type of abuse or danger.
“This isn’t witness protection,” Bonnie said, after a moment, pointing at the photo on her phone.
“That secret room and tunnel certainly had nothing to do with witness protection either,” Cavanaugh said. “And her clothes and purse and things were found in that closet years later, more than likely dumped when someone was cleaning that room. She was running.”
“And running scared,” Bonnie said. “And if I had to guess, I think she was more than likely running from the brother.”
“Agreed,” Cavanaugh said. “If they were as close as the brother led us to believe, she would have told him.”
“And on one level his desire to find her seemed just normal family-like stuff, keeping in touch with the detectives and all. But when looked at through the lens of her running, it seems damned creepy. Especially if he suspected she had run to escape him.”
Cavanaugh nodded.
At that moment Bonnie’s phone rang. She glanced at it and put it on speaker. “Got both of us.”
“You notice that picture I sent looks exactly like the missing woman?”
“Yeah, we were just talking about that and what to do,” Bonnie said.
“So my guess was right and that secret room is part of an Underground Railroad to help women escape.”
“Looking more and more like that,” Bonnie said.
“So any ideas?” Jacob asked.
“The brother,” Cavanaugh said. “Any chance you can do a deep dive on him without letting him know. He’s an attorney, so be careful.”
“And that office of his,” Bonnie said. “We noticed that when Myra vanished, she had no official address. Does the brother live in his office and when was that basement under it built?”
“Got it,” Jacob said. “Back with you in the morning.”
Bonnie clicked off her phone and looked up into the wonderful and intelligent green eyes of Cavanaugh. “So got any ideas of what we do next?”
He nodded. “We call Andor and tell him why we need to keep it quiet. Then we make a trip to Seattle.”
“To talk with Myra?”
“Only Myra is going to know why she had to vanish. And if we promise to keep her secret, she might just tell us.”
Bonnie nodded. “My stomach is twisting on this one. I’m thinking that brother was doing something awful to his sister.”
“And maybe others since,” Cavanaugh said.
“Damn, you had to say that, didn’t you?”
“You were thinking it,” Cavanaugh said, smiling.
With that she could only nod, because she had been thinking it. She hated that she had, but she had been. Just where all the years of being a detective took her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
January 20th, 2019
Main Street Station Buffet
Las Vegas, Nevada
Cavanaugh and Bonnie had talked for another hour before she had headed home. After she left he had watched a little television and fallen asleep in front of the nightly news before dragging himself to bed.
Now, this morning, he felt almost rested and was waiting for her and Andor in the buffet at the Main Street Station. The crowd around him felt like he actually had some privacy in the table they had given him in the back. The massive high ceilings and antique decorations gave the place a comfortable feel very different from the Wynn’s over-the-top colors and massive plants.
He liked this place better.
He had gotten here thirty minutes early and was just sipping on an iced tea when he saw Bonnie come in. He waved her over since he had already paid for her and Andor’s breakfast.
She looked great this morning, even more than normal it seemed. She had on a blue jacket that somehow matched her jeans and when she saw him, her smile had lit up her face. He was betting his smile did the same for his face.
Only a few days and he just couldn’t believe how much he was enjoying being with her, both working on a case and just being together. And how attracted he was to her.
“Thanks for breakfast,” she said as she joined him.
“I’m celebrating not having to go into a dirty, dark, shuttered hotel looking for secret rooms this morning.”
She laughed. “I got happy this morning as well when I realized the same thing. So a pleasure to join you in that celebration.”
At that moment Andor came in the front and Cavanaugh waved him in, indicating he was already paid.
“You buying?” Andor said as he got to the table, moving through the other tables like he might knock them over. “This can’t be good.”
With that he turned and headed for the food lines. Bonnie and Cavanaugh both laughed and followed him.
After they all had gotten a distance into their breakfasts, Andor said, “Okay, besides smoothing over finding the hidden rooms with the Golden Nugget and the mess for poor Detective Fawn and days of paperwork she has to fight through, what can I do for you two?”
Cavanaugh slid him the folder with the image of Myra Stemple, then the image of her with her husband and kids.
“That was her boyfriend before she vanished,” Bonnie said.
“Son-of-a-bitch,” Andor said. “She ran.”
“The secret room and tunnel we figure was part of an Underground Railroad of some sort,” Cavanaugh said, “to help women escape from abuse.”
“So who was abusing her?” Andor asked. “And that means some of those other missing person’s cases are runners as well.”
“The ones with the clothes found in that closet,” Bonnie said. “More than likely.”
“Better than the alternative,” Andor said.
Cavanaugh could only agree to that.
“Our best guess is that Myra was running from her brother,” Bonnie said. “We have Jacob doing a careful dig into him, but we haven’t heard back on that yet.”
“So let me guess,” Andor said, “you are thinking of going to Seattle to talk with her.”
Bonnie nodded. “And we need to keep what we have found secret until we figure out who she was running from and why.”
At that moment Bonnie’s phone cheeped and she glanced at it. “Jacob.”
She put the phone on speaker and said, “You got me and Cavanaugh and Andor on speaker.”
“Let me guess,” Jacob said. “Main Street Station Buffet.”
Cavanaugh just shook his head and laughed.
“So we’re predictable,” Bonnie said, laughing as well. “What did you find on the brother?”
“No records at all of a basement in that office building,” Jacob said. “If there is one, it was built under the public reporting.”
Cavanaugh glanced at Bonnie who nodded.
Andor said nothing.
“He owns the building outright,” Jacob said. “He has very few clients that I can figure, and makes very little money. He basically does nothing much as an attorney at least in the public records.”
“How is he surviving?” Bonnie asked.
“No idea,” Jacob said, “He had no obvious gambling issues, no sports issues, and without the right kind of warrants, I couldn’t check his banking accounts.”
“Thanks, Jacob,” Bonnie said. “We really appreciate it.”
“One more thing,” Jacob said. “None of the women whose clothes were found in the old hotel have any matches to Jane Doe bodies. It’s looking more and more like every woman who went through that secret room was a runner.”
With that Jacob hung up.
The sounds of the buffet came crashing back in on the table as Cavanaugh sat there silently, thinking.
“Looks like you two need to head to Seattle,” Andor said. “And sooner rather than later.”
He took out his cell phone and hit a number in his contacts. “Hi,” he said after a moment to whoever answered. “Got a pretty critical case that Cavanaugh and State have uncovered. They need a ride to Seattle.”
He nodded. “Perfect. Thanks!”
With that he hung up and looked at Cavanaugh, then at Bonnie. “Be at the private terminal at the airport in one hour. I got you a ride to Seattle and back today. Now it is time for dessert.”
With that he stood and headed for the food lines before Bonnie or Cavanaugh could say a word.
“He does that on purpose, you know,” Bonnie said, shaking her head.
“Guess he figures we’re detectives,” Cavanaugh said. “And we can figure it out.”
“I don’t think anyone will ever figure out Andor,” Bonnie said, laughing.
Cavanaugh could only agree to that.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
January 20th, 2019
Seattle, Washington
Bonnie had really enjoyed the flight from Vegas to Seattle in Doc Hill’s private jet. Actually, it was very short flight, especially considering they didn’t have to wait at all for security or time to park and get through the airport. Just over three hours from the time Cavanaugh picked her up in front of her building, they landed in Seattle.
They had driven up to a private parking lot in front of what looked like an office building attached to a large plane hangar on one edge of the airport. They had shown their IDs at the gate and then again at a front desk and got escorted to the steward who would be on the plane with them.
Both of them had left their guns at home, but brought their badges. Neither had brought even a change of clothes because their return flight was later in the day, as soon as they got finished. The plane was going to wait for them.
The jet itself was large and decorated in soft brown leather tones and light mahogany. The seats were huge and she had ended up sitting facing Cavanaugh across a small table with more than enough leg room, something on regular commercial flights, she always fought with.
The steward, a nice younger guy named Carlson, seemed amazingly competent and friendly and even laughed at her and Cavanaugh’s one-liners. He served them both coffee and a few butter cookies and then answered a few questions about the jet and Doc Hill, before seeming to vanish somewhere into the back.
Doc Hill was married to Lott’s daughter. He was also widely known as the best poker player in the world. And he and his partner had built a multi-billion dollar business from Doc’s winnings and shrewd investments in real estate and who knew what else. They often helped different people on problems, just as they were helping them today with a quick ride to Seattle.
It was said that Doc and his partner also had a small private force of ex-special service folks at their disposal and that they loved helping the Cold Poker Gang in tough situations.
It had been Doc’s men, led by a guy named Mike, who had helped a number of members of the Cold Poker Gang roust out that huge sex ring that had been existing in the tunnels under Vegas for decades.
Bonnie had heard parts of the story at different times and was just amazed. That case had been one of the main reasons she had wanted to join the Cold Poker Gang task force when she retired.
“You know,” Cavanaugh said, climbing in behind the wheel of the big Cadillac SUV that they had been given to use in Seattle. “You and I are both pretty well off. But this kind of money I just can’t imagine.”
Bonnie could only agree to that. When you got rich enough that it was no big deal to loan out one of your private jets and one of your many Cadillac fleet of cars to a couple of detectives just so they could go interview someone, you had real money.
