“Soulmates?”
“That’s what he thinks.”
“How did he get her to leave with him?”
“Said I sent him because Eva took a turn for the worse. Gambled she wouldn’t hesitate.” Hands on his hips, he turned back to the deputy. “He gave her some bottled water dosed with Ketamine. Same shit he gave Jack, and drove her here. Claimed it wasn’t much, just enough to knock her out till he got here so they could make plans.”
“What kind of plans?”
“To leave together.”
“Really?”
Coop nodded.
“Why?”
“Got tired of Miriam’s nagging. Bought this place a few months ago and planned to leave as soon as he had it fixed up. Somewhere along the way, Sam was nice to him. He fixated on it until he convinced himself they were destined to be together.”
Coop pressed himself back into cop mode. “Let’s assume for the moment that Frank told the truth and acted alone. Which means we have an unknown player in the game.” He closed his eyes and concentrated as he told JD about the roses. “Frank didn’t send them. I didn’t send them. Have to be from the killer.”
“No shit?”
“I think he somehow saw all or part of what happened. Followed them here. As soon as he could, he grabbed Sam.”
“For real?” The deputy stroked his chin, eyes narrowed as he glanced around the room. “You think our guy was here?”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense at the moment.” He turned for the door. “If that’s the case, he must have followed Frank without him knowing it. Let’s take a look around outside.”
Ten minutes later, Coop called from the across the yard near a big live oak tree. “Over here!” When the deputy joined him, he pointed to the ground. “Someone stood in this spot for a while. The ground is still moist from the rain but the damn roots obscure most of the print.” He squatted down and surveyed the signs. “Not a sneaker. A boot, maybe.”
“Hell, Coop, half the men in the county wear boots.” JD’s voice showed his own frustration with the situation. “Even us.”
Coop ignored the comment as he visually traced the steps leading to the tree and beyond, toward the house, till they ended in the overgrown yard. He walked the area with care, avoiding getting near the prints. “Only one track I saw might be useful. Grass is too deep to get a good print. Tracks are deeper coming back.”
“He carried her out.”
“Probably.” Coop stared at the dense forest. “Call it in. In the back of my unit should be some plaster to make prints. It’ll be dark soon and I want this place gone over with a fine-toothed comb. I’m going to follow the tracks a ways. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
“Uh, maybe I should go with you for back up.”
Coop shook his head. “He’s got an hour and half on us at least, and is long gone by now. I just want to see where the tracks lead. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”
In due time, he returned and held up a scrap of blue cloth gripped with a gloved hand. “Found this on a blackberry vine near where I think he parked. A little blood on it, probably from a scratch.” His voice shook as he continued. “Sam had on a blue shirt this morning.”
Face pinched, JD nodded. “Crime scene guys are on their way.”
Coop moved to his car and placed the scrap in an evidence bag as a soft breeze carried a floral scent to his nostrils. Gardenias. There were no gardenia bushes in the yard.
He remembered what Sam said about the fragrance meaning her grandmother was near. Was she here? Could she help him?
“I can’t lose her, Miss Ethel,” he whispered, “help me…please.”
He has her.
“I know that. Tell me something I don’t know.”
You know him.
Coop stared at the computer screen without seeing its content. Exhausted, stressed to the max, his mind could only focus on one thing: finding Sam before the unthinkable happened.
The day was one fiasco after another, and he could barely function at the moment. He’d stopped by the hospital on the way back to the office to tell Eva before she heard it through the grapevine. Though understandably upset, she assured Coop he would bring Sam home soon. A call to Jason produced the same results.
He scrubbed his face with both hands, then reached for his coffee. The stale brew was strong but tepid, and he emptied the contents in one long gulp. His stomach protested right away. He fumbled in his desk for antacid tablets and popped two in his mouth. Not the food he needed but would have to do for now.
There was no doubt in his mind Sam was in the hands of a killer responsible for the deaths of two women. And he had nothing to go on beyond some half-ass footprints that could belong to half the men in the county. No leads. No suspects. Nothing.
His conversation with Arnold when they returned from the shack yielded nothing new. He worked alone, didn’t see or hear anyone else. When Coop told him his ridiculous stunt apparently spurred the killer into action, the man became so distraught a deputy had to practically carry him back to his cell.
Instinct told Coop the killer was pushed into acting before he was ready, and he clung to the hope this meant he had time to save her.
Of the three men initially questioned, only Puckett appeared to be in the clear. His long lunch today was nothing more than a mid-morning tryst with one of Teddy’s waitresses. Once again, he was more concerned his wife not know of his actions than being considered as a murder suspect.
He had yet to talk with Anson or Bill. The lawyer apparently texting his secretary he would stay in Texarkana for dinner and probably not return tonight. A deputy watched his house and another watched his office. Coop would know the minute he returned.
