Deadly Revenge (Pearl River #3)

Chapter 59

59

None of the cabins had panned out, and Alex hadn’t called with any news. Jenna massaged the knots in her neck. The ibuprofen had helped, but not knowing where her father was had her insides tied up in knots. At least Max didn’t think she was having PTSD now.

She studied the remaining addresses they had to check out. Was her father being held at one of them? “This address is out by Eric Darby’s place. Why don’t we check on it then stop by his place and see if he’s ready to tell us anything.”

Max glanced at his watch. “As long as we don’t miss the funeral.”

Twenty minutes later, Max pulled off the main road onto a gravel drive and drove a short distance to the house. He put the SUV in park, and they climbed out as a man came out of the house with a box.

“Can I help you?” he asked as they approached.

“I hope so.” Jenna showed her badge and then scanned the cabin and yard. “A man went missing last night, and we’re checking to see if anyone has seen him.”

“You’re the first people I’ve seen today. I’m sure my wife hasn’t seen anyone, either.”

“Do you mind if we ask her?” Max said.

He shrugged and yelled, “Holley! Can you come out? A deputy sheriff wants to talk to you!”

A thin woman came to the door, questions showing in her face, and they explained what they were looking for. She shook her head. “Nobody’s been around here today, but if we see anyone before we leave, we can give you a call.”

“Thanks,” Jenna said. While she hadn’t really expected them to have seen her dad, time was running out.

“Have you seen anything unusual?” Max asked.

The couple exchanged glances. “Well ...” the husband said. “We’ve been here a week and there hasn’t been much traffic—”

“Until the other night,” the wife said, “there’s been a whole lot of people up and down the road.”

“Really?” Jenna said. “Do you know where they’re going?”

The husband shook his head, but the woman hesitated. “I wonder if they’re going to that cabin we saw our first day—we were out riding around and saw it.”

Max took out his pad. “Where exactly is it?”

The man shrugged. “Maybe a couple miles away—these roads are so curvy, it’s hard to tell distance.”

Jenna thanked them. “We’ll check it out.”

They climbed back in the SUV and Max put the gear in reverse. “That sounds like the place we planned to check out next. Put the address in the GPS and see how far it is.”

“It’s two-point-five miles,” she said.

They met two pickups and a car not long after they passed Mr. Darby’s drive, and a mile later, the GPS indicated they were arriving at the address.

“Next house on the right,” Jenna said.

The small house sat back off the road. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s home,” Max said.

Jenna noted grass near the house that had been pressed down. Some of it was even kicked up like maybe someone had parked there instead of the drive and then left in a hurry. “I’ll make sure.”

She hopped out of the SUV and jogged to the front door before he could stop her. It would surprise her if whoever took her dad had him stashed at a place so easy to find him. When no one answered, she trudged back and climbed in the SUV.

“I’m not marking it off the list,” she said, her tone brooking no argument.

Max backed out of the drive. “What’s the name on the rental agreement?”

“Tony Miller.”

“Does it say how many occupants?”

She ran her finger down the paper. “One. Did you notice that someone, or maybe several someone’s, had parked on the grass?”

“I did. Call Mr. Weaver and see if you can get any information on this property.”

“I’ll put it on speaker.” The call went straight to voicemail.

“Maybe we can catch him at the funeral,” Jenna said.

Something about the place bothered Jenna, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. But something else bothered her more. “Why do you think no one has asked for a ransom?”

He didn’t answer right away, then Max drew in a breath. “You have to consider—”

“Don’t say it!”

“Jenna.”

“If my dad were gone, I’d feel it here.” She touched her chest above her heart.

“The only thing is ... sometimes our heart deceives us.”

“No.” She refused to believe her dad might be dead.

“We’re running short of time to make the funeral. Do you think Mr. Darby would open his gate if you called and asked?”

“He may not answer his phone.” She put it on speaker after she dialed. Jenna was surprised when the old man answered. “This is Deputy Jenna Hart.”

“I know who the number belongs to.”

Mr. Darby was in fine form today. “Good. Would you mind opening your gate so we don’t have to crawl through the fence?”

A long pause followed, and Jenna checked her phone to make sure she still had a connection.

“I suppose I can do that, but I still don’t have anything to say.”

“We just want to touch base.”

“I’ll meet you at the road.”

Jenna hung up. Stopping to talk with the old man was probably a waste of time.

“Darby seems like a good guy,” Max said. “And I believe he knows something about the connection between Carter and the deaths of the Slaters and Paul Nelson.”

True to his word, Eric Darby was waiting for them on the right side of the lane to his house with Bear at his side. Jenna lowered her window. “You want to talk here or the house?”

“Here’s fine.”

They climbed out of the SUV and Bear trotted to them, sniffing their shoes.

“Hey, Bear,” Jenna said softly. She patted the big dog on the head, and he rubbed against her leg.

“Traitor,” Eric Darby muttered. “Did you ask your dad about what happened when they bought up the land for the dam?”

She didn’t trust herself to speak.

“Her dad is missing.”

Jenna shot Max a grateful smile.

The old man stiffened. “What do you mean, he’s missing?”

Max explained what had happened, and Darby scratched his head. “Do you think it has to do with what happened to the Slaters and Nelson?”

She frowned. “Why would his disappearance be related to what happened to them?”

“Maybe he saw something—your dad’s all over the county in that mail truck,” Darby said. “Or maybe he knew something about whoever killed the others back before the dam was built.”

Jenna didn’t miss the way he suddenly stiffened or the expression on his face that said he wished he could call back the words. “If you’re talking about my grandfather and Todd Donelson’s dad, their deaths were both ruled accidental, so why did you say they were killed?”

He swallowed hard and shrugged. “I don’t know. Seems there might’ve been some talk—”

“There wasn’t.” She crossed her arms. “What are you not telling us?”

Darby shifted his gaze toward the road. When he turned back to her, his face had shuttered. “I don’t know anything ... and if people thought otherwise, I might end up dead.”

Did he think someone was out to get him because of what he knew? There had to be a way to get him to talk. Jenna shifted toward him. “Why would you say that?”

He toed a stick at the edge of the drive. “Ain’t that what generally happens to folk who know too much?”

“Do you know too much?” Jenna asked softly. She tilted her head and studied him. “People never see the janitor. He’s like a piece of the furniture. Did you hear something while you worked at city hall?”

“No.”

He’d answered too quickly. “Is that why you’ve hidden out all these years? Out of sight, out of mind?”

He turned toward his house. “I got things to do.”

She put her hand on his arm. “Please, Mr. Darby, if you know anything that will help us find the murderer or my dad, tell us.”

His shoulders sagged and he stared down at the ground. Then he shook his head. “If I knew anything that would help you find your daddy, I’d tell you. But I don’t.”

The finality of his words pierced her heart like an arrow. They were getting nowhere with the case, and there’d been no ransom demand. She pulled on his arm until he was looking at her. “It’s killing me, knowing someone has him. I know you still roam the woods around here. If you see or hear anything, call me.”

He held her gaze. “I will. I promise.”