Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

River and Tony decided to look over one more case before calling it a day. River brought up the next entry on April's list, which she called the case of the Railroad Rage.

"I think we can mark this one off," River said. "I doubt it will ever be solved. A man was found along railroad tracks in Kentucky eighteen years ago. It looked like he'd been savagely beaten. The ME said he was somewhere in his thirties, ragged clothing, probably homeless. A police sketch artist put something together, but the face was in such bad shape he couldn't be completely sure how accurate the image was. The police looked through all of the missing person cases, but no one fit this guy."

River pulled out her phone and clicked through the pages she'd taken pictures of. "Here's a copy of the sketch." She handed her phone to Tony, who looked at it and gave it back to her.

"Pretty generic," he said.

"I know. The body was never claimed and was buried by a local church who took pity on the man."

"Nothing else?"

River shook her head. "No, sadly."

"I agree that we should cross this one off," Tony said. "Too long ago, and too cold. Did April get any tips?"

"Not really. A couple of people hoping it might be someone in their family who'd gone missing, but it doesn't look as if those leads panned out."

"Why don't we wrap it up and take another crack at this tomorrow morning?" Tony said.

River yawned. "I agree. I'm tired. Time to go home. Do you want to join us for supper?"

"Are you sure it won't be any trouble?"

River laughed. "You've got my mother and Mrs. Weyland wrapped around your little finger. In fact, when I don't ask you over, they get a little peeved with me."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "They're peeved with you, Grandma?"

"Oh, stop it."

"Where do you get all of these old expressions? Do you spend your down time dressing up like an old woman and chasing old men?"

"No, I spend my time reading books by Jane Austen and Charles Dickens. Great literature. You wouldn't understand."

Tony sighed loudly. "Sorry if my books are a little more manly. If anyone used the word peeved in a Creston Mapes or Steven James book, they'd be shot."

"Very funny. I love their books too. But I'm also able to appreciate the classics."

"I've got to call Watson's daycare and let them know I'll be late," Tony said. "And by the way, they'll be closed tomorrow. The owner's father passed away. I'll need to bring Watson to the office with me."

"I love it when he comes here," River said. "I'm so glad the landlord allows pets in the building. The graphic design guys have the cutest dogs."

"They do, don't they? Bulldogs. Although they do seem to drool a lot."

"That's just part of their charm," River said, laughing.

Tony had just started to say something when the door to their office opened and a man stepped inside. Late forties, early fifties, sharply dressed. The expression on his face was anything but friendly.

"Can I help you?" Tony asked. He got to his feet in case the guy tried something. They were both trained to size up threatening situations and respond quickly. They didn't know this man, and he was clearly angry. His expression and the way he held himself were dead giveaways.

"You certainly can," the man said. "You can quit trying to help Nathan Hearne. My daughter is missing, and I think he may have had something to do with it."

HE SIGHED AS HE WALKED into another antique store. How many of these places had he been to so far? Unfortunately, old trunks were becoming popular with people who liked to repurpose them. It was irritating.

"Can I help you, sir?"

He turned to find a young woman standing behind him. He felt his heart race. Brown hair. Green eyes. His usual prey. He hadn't hunted in a long time, and he felt as if his blood was boiling. But he couldn't do anything to lose River Ryland. She was his most important trophy. The prey he had to kill.

"I ... I was looking for an old trunk. It doesn't have to be in perfect shape."

Her smile widened. "We have one over here," she said, waving her hand to her right.

He followed behind her. As he watched her walk, his heart beat loudly in his chest. Could she hear it? He had to be careful. If he did or said anything out of the norm, it could cause her to remember him.

"This trunk is from the 1920s," she said. "It's solid wood with a liner, a leather handle, and brass accessories. We also have a key for the lock. There's some water damage, but all in all it's in very good shape."

"How much?" he asked.

"We're asking two hundred."

He knew it was exactly what he wanted, but if he didn't haggle a bit, it might seem unusual.

"Would you take one-seventy-five for it?"

"I'm not sure," the girl said, although he was absolutely certain they had a deal. "Let me ask the owner."

He tried not to watch her as she walked away, but he couldn't help it. A couple of minutes later, she came back.

"The owner says you can have it for one-seventy-five," she said, as if this news was the best thing she'd ever heard.

"That's wonderful." He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes, so much like his mother's. "I don't suppose you have any others?"

Her eyebrows lifted, showing her surprise, and he thought he'd made a mistake. But thankfully, her expression wasn't shock, it was pleasure. She was obviously making a commission on her sales.

"There is one in the back," she said, "but it just came in a couple of days ago. We haven't had time to clean it up."

"Would you mind if I looked at it? I repurpose these and sell them. People love to use them to decorate their homes."

"Yes, they do," she said. "If you don't mind coming with me, I'll be happy to show it to you. As I said, it's still rather dirty—but I guess you don't care."

"No, I don't." He smiled at her. "Just part of the job."

When they got to the back room, he saw the other trunk. As the salesgirl, whose name turned out to be Megan, described the features of the old trunk, his only interest was in figuring out whether or not she would fit inside.

Ten minutes later, he had two old trunks in his van and Megan's business card with her personal cellphone number in his pocket.

"I'M SORRY," RIVER SAID. "You think Nathan had something to do with April's disappearance?"

"Of course. Everything was fine until he came into her life. From the moment I met him, I didn't trust him. I tried to get April to listen to me, but the more I warned her, the more she gravitated toward him."

"It generally works that way," River said, keeping her voice calm. "If you tell a child to stay away from someone, they usually find them more appealing." She was trying to connect with him. Get him to relax and not see them as the enemy. She wanted to know why he was here. And how he found out Nathan had come to see them. She knew Tony was upset about the vibe April's father projected, but she needed to stay focused on him and not allow Tony to distract her.

"You said Nathan had something to do with April's disappearance," Tony said. "What makes you think that?"

"Do you mind if I sit?"

River motioned toward the chair in front of her desk. April's father sat down and let out a deep sigh. It was as if he'd exhaled all the tension in his body.

"I'm sorry if I was rude. This isn't your fault. I've just been so worried. We lost her mother when April was young. It was a terrible, terrible time. And now April's gone. I don't know what to do." He shook his head. "I'm Jeffrey Bailey."

Jeffrey, not Jeff. That told them something about him. "Jeffrey, how do you know about us?" River asked.

"Nathan called and left me a message the day before he visited you. I didn't find it until this morning. I don't check my phone very often." He frowned at her. "I think he's trying to prove to me that he's genuinely looking for my daughter."

"He didn't tell us that you knew he was coming here," Tony said.

Jeffrey shrugged. "You can ask him. And you might want to ask yourselves why he didn't let you know that. Maybe you can't trust him."

River looked over Jeffrey's body language. She couldn't see anything that made her feel as though he wasn't telling the truth. He seemed genuinely upset.

"Coffee?" River asked.

"Not this late, thanks."

"I'm not sure what you want us to do, Jeffrey," Tony said.

"I want to know what's going on," he said, his tone a little menacing.

River cast a quick look at Tony before saying, "Nathan is our client. I'm afraid there's not much we can tell you."

"I've tried to call him, but he doesn't answer his phone. I really need to talk to him. He only told me he was coming to see you, but he didn't tell me why he decided to seek your help after all this time. I'd like to know more."

"We certainly can't force him to respond to your phone calls," Tony said. River knew he was trying to match Jeffrey's forcefulness, but that didn't seem to impress the man. River was grateful all of April's things were in the tote bag behind Tony's desk, out of sight. If Jeffrey had noticed and recognized the bag, she felt strongly he would have asked for his daughter's property. Since Arnie wanted the items, they could say no, but she had a feeling this man could become even more unpleasant than he'd already been.

On a whim, River reached into her drawer and took out a copy of the picture someone had left for them. She got up from her desk and put it in front of him.

"Did you take this picture?" she asked.

His eyes widened. "Of course not," he said, angrily. "I don't need to rely on cheap tricks or threats to get what I want." He stood up. "Look, you need to look carefully at Nathan Hearne. He's the only person who gains from April's disappearance."

"What are you talking about?" Tony said, also getting to his feet.

"Oh, I guess he didn't tell you?" Jeffrey's laugh was nasty and spiteful. "April has a very large trust fund. She told me she didn't want the money because I disagreed with her engagement to Nathan. Of course, I knew that someday she'd change her mind. It was important to her mother. But Nathan kept trying to talk her into taking the money now and giving it to him. If she disappeared against her will, you should look at him." He removed a card from his wallet. He hesitated a moment before slapping it down on Tony's desk. "I'd like to know if you learn anything about what happened to my daughter. I was convinced that she left on her own, to get away from Nathan, but now I'm not so sure. I'm truly worried. I'm her father, you know. Nathan Hearne doesn't love her, and I do." Then he turned on his heel and headed for the door without another word.