Chapter 17

Josie dropped the receiver of her desk phone back into its cradle. Her chair creaked as she stood and massaged the stiff, aching muscles of her lower back. Three empty Komorrah's cups were lined up on her desk. Despite the mass quantities of caffeine she'd ingested upon their return from Tranquil Trails, she still felt exhausted. Immediately after speaking with Rebecca, Josie and Gretchen had pulled up a copy of Seth Lee's driver's license on one of the mobile data terminals and found his address listed in a small town in Bucks County, about two hours east of Denton. Josie had called the local PD there and asked them to make contact with Seth.

"That was Officer Renee Simmons of the Doylestown Police Department. Seth Lee is not at his last known address, and the landlord says he hasn't lived there for over three years. He never forwarded his mail, so they've got three years' worth of it. Doesn't remember Seth that well—if he ever had kids with him or anything—but said he was the only person on the lease."

Across the room, Gretchen affixed a copy of the child's drawing they'd found clutched in Jane Doe's hand to the huge rolling corkboard the Chief had purchased the year before. She turned toward Josie, brushing the remnants of two pecan croissants from her chest. "Why doesn't that surprise me? How about the sedan registered in his name?"

"It wasn't there either," Josie answered. "And we can't put out a BOLO for the car or for Seth Lee unless we can connect him to the crime scene. Just because he was at that produce stand last year doesn't mean he was there today."

"True." Gretchen picked up a copy of the back of the drawing and hung it.

HELP

The letters were a taunt and a challenge, and eerily at odds with the cheery flower above them. Gretchen sifted through the documents on her desk and came up with another piece of paper which she pinned to the corkboard. This was an enlarged copy of Seth Lee's driver's license. It hadn't been lost on either one of them that he had a commercial driver's license, which meant that he could legally drive a box truck or any other commercial vehicle.

Piercing blue eyes stared at them from the photo, which, according to DMV records, was three years old. The resemblance to his brother was there but it was minimal. Seth had a stronger, sharper jawline. His dark hair was thick and wavy with fewer gray hairs than Jon. He was definitely more striking than his older brother. Except for the hint of menace in the flat line of his mouth, he was attractive. It wasn't a stretch to think that as a younger man he might have caught the eye of many women. The question was whether or not those women had stuck around once his disorder became obvious to them—and had any of them had children? Or had he kidnapped a child who had no relation to him at all? Although they could check for any missing children in the state, without more information on the child with Seth, they wouldn't be able to determine whether or not he'd abducted someone.

"We could try the hospital again," Josie suggested.

They'd gone there once after leaving Tranquil Trails to ask Mira about Seth Lee, but she'd been sleeping and the medical staff were adamant about them leaving her alone until morning. Apparently, she had become hysterical after being admitted to the ward, and it had taken them hours to get her to calm down.

Instead, Josie and Gretchen returned to the stationhouse to finish their reports and prepare additional warrants; one for the geofence and two for Mira Summers's phone. The first warrant was a ‘power up' warrant that gave them permission to plug the phone into their GrayKey device in order to access its contents. Law enforcement used GrayKey to unlock cell phones even if they were password-protected or turned off. The second warrant allowed them to search the contents they downloaded. Since Summers had a concussion, Josie wasn't comfortable getting her consent to search her phone. It would take longer to access it with warrants, but if it held critical information, there would be no questions about how that evidence was obtained.

Gretchen started hanging up printouts from Google Maps, slowly forming a picture of the area between the expansive Tranquil Trails property and the scene of the accident. "I know it's after midnight, but I'm pretty sure when the nurse said tomorrow, she meant the part of the morning with daylight. Besides, it might be better to gather more information about this guy before we talk with Mira."

Josie picked up the nearest coffee cup and took the lid off, hoping for some dregs. There was nothing. "Seth's prints are in AFIS from his various felony trespassing arrests." The charges from all of which had been dismissed. Josie wondered if Jon Lee had footed the bill for Seth to have good attorneys—and whether Rebecca was aware. "If Hummel can match any of the prints he pulls from the murder weapon to Seth, we won't need confirmation from Mira that he was at the scene."

"Exactly," Gretchen agreed. "Although if Seth is our suspect, we'll still need to figure out the connection between him and Mira and him and Jane Doe. For that, we'd have to start with Mira."

"One thing at a time," Josie murmured. She reached past the coffee cups and picked up a small sheaf of copy paper. "By the way, I ran both the Lees' names. Rebecca's got no priors and no warrants. Jon Lee was convicted of simple assault eleven years ago. He spent nine months in prison before being released for good behavior. He was on probation for two years after that. There were a slew of other misdemeanor charges, but they were dropped."

"Really?" Gretchen turned away from the board to gawk at Josie. "Were you able to get any details?"

Josie edged around her desk, moving toward the corkboard. She was momentarily distracted by the drawing. What was the drawing supposed to be? Was it really an eye? Where was the child now?

"Josie?" Gretchen prompted.

"I did get some information. Jon Lee punched a woman in the parking lot of a department store."

Gretchen gave a low whistle. She picked up a Sharpie and used it to mark the boundaries of Tranquil Trails—from the bank of the Susquehanna River on one side, across Prout Road, to a strip of forest on the other. "Well, well, well, that is certainly interesting."

Josie wondered if Rebecca had told the truth when she said Jon was not a threat. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Now half past midnight. She had been so absorbed in the case that she hadn't paid attention to the time. It was late, but she would still make the home study and that was all that mattered.

The door to the stairwell whooshed open and Chief Chitwood strode in. His acne-pitted face was red, which usually meant he was unhappy about something. Although, to be fair, that did seem to be his natural state. He was also dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved cotton shirt rather than the more formal suits he usually wore to work. "Detectives!" he barked. "What in the hell is going on around here?"

Gretchen looked over at him, unimpressed. She hung another piece of the map. "What are you doing here after midnight?"

He advanced on them. "I was on a college visit with Daisy today. God, not that I want this kid to go to college hours away from me. Never mind that. The point is that I had my phone turned off. I had told Sergeant Lamay to give me any important updates. When I got home and turned it on, guess what?" He held up two fists and then made a noise that sounded like an explosion as he splayed his fingers outward. "It blew up."

Gretchen shrugged. "You should have waited till morning to check your phone."

He pointed a long finger at her. "Don't be a smart-ass. No one likes a smart-ass."

Josie tossed the report on Jon Lee onto her desk. "Actually," she said. "That's not true."

It was an exchange they had often. As usual, he had no patience for the argument. He whirled on her. "Don't you start, too. Wait. What are you doing here? It's your day off."

"No shit." Josie made a fist and used her knuckles to knead the muscles in her lower back.

"What happened to Turner?" he asked.

Gretchen shot him a look so caustic, Josie half expected him to drop where he stood. "Good question."

"Not sure," said Josie. "He was on a bank robbery that evidently took all day and most of the evening. Maybe he came in after, but we were out in the field, so we didn't see him."

The Chief's bluster dissipated. His gaze swept toward his office door. Quietly, he said, "I'll talk to him. I'm sure you just missed each other."

"Did you lose a bet?" Gretchen called after him. "Is that why we're stuck with him?"

"Shut it, Palmer," the Chief hollered back.

"You owed someone a favor?" she pressed.

Josie mouthed ‘stop' at Gretchen. Then she covered her mouth to quiet her laughter.

Undeterred, Gretchen stepped toward the Chief's office. "I'm just saying, all those applicants, and he was the best we could do?"

"Seriously," Josie hissed. "Stop!"

But she could hear the Chief's frenetic steps as he burst back into the great room. He glared at Gretchen. "One more word, Palmer, and it's your ass. Not that you're owed any explanation, because you're not, but Turner's got experience. He's just as qualified as any of you. He worked at a similarly sized department north of Philadelphia. He's been at this for a long time."

"I know that," Gretchen shot back. "I checked. He was profiled in their city paper for taking the lead on the escort serial killer case, which I'm surprised he was even able to solve, given his work ethic."

"Palmer!" he started to yell, but changed his mind when she turned her back on him, walking over to Turner's desk—Mettner's old desk. She placed both hands on the back of the chair and squeezed. She kept her head down and breathed deeply, as though trying to shore herself up. The Chief locked eyes with Josie, asking her an unspoken question, to which she nodded. This wasn't just about Turner.

The Chief sighed and dragged a hand over his face. His voice softened to its gentlest tone, one that he normally only used with two people: his much younger sister, Daisy, whom he'd adopted, and Josie. He'd become a lot less prickly with her, at least, since she'd helped him solve the murder of his other sister. "Palmer," he said. "No one is going to be Mett. There is no one I could bring in here who would be satisfactory to all of you. You don't have to get along. You just have to do the job. You got problems with Turner? Be adults. Figure it out. Now, tell me what the hell's going on around here."