Blood.
The biggest spot was still wet in the center. Ben studied the entire driveway. The blood was on the side closest to the house. Where Truman’s driver’s door would have opened.
Maybe he hit a dog in his driveway and drove it to the vet.
His heart pounding, Ben went to his car, popped the trunk, and found his blood-testing kit. His hands shook as he slipped on gloves and opened the small box. He studied the directions. He hadn’t used this type of kit in years, but he knew it would tell him if the blood was human.
Squatting next to the biggest stain, he dipped the kit’s long Q-tip into the blood. He broke the seal on a small container of liquid and stuck the wet end of the Q-tip in and stirred, letting the blood mix with the liquid. He put the lid back on and shook the tiny container. He set it down and ripped open a small envelope from the box, then shook out a white plastic stick with two windows on the flattest side.
He removed the lid of the container of the blood mixture and dripped three drops into the smaller round window on the stick.
He held his breath as he watched it soak up the stick toward the other opening. If one line showed in the second window, it meant the test was working. If two lines showed, it meant the blood was human.
Two lines appeared, and Ben nearly dropped the test.
Shit.
I need to call Lucas.
“That’s great about confirming the Hartlage parents,” Jeff told Mercy late that afternoon as they met in his office. “What else do you have?”
He always wants more.
Eddie sat beside her in front of Jeff’s desk, listening to her recap of the latest developments. She missed working with Eddie, but he was up to his neck in another case.
Mercy shared Dr. Peres’s theory about the Asian skull.
Jeff’s brows shot up. “I’ve heard people buy stuff like that. I consider it to be in the same class with serial killer memorabilia.”
“What is wrong with people?” asked Eddie.
“Everyone has their little secrets and obsessions,” said Jeff. Mercy caught him looking at her and immediately studied her notes.
Does he know the true reason I have my cabin?
“Chuck Winslow published an article that outed Britta Vale,” Mercy added. “Now she’s being harassed online.”
“I repeat,” said Eddie. “What is wrong with people?” He shifted in his seat, a black glare in his eyes.
“Is she safe?” Jeff asked.
“I think so. She said someone would have to dig deep to figure out where she lives. I can’t imagine anyone would go to that effort. It’s much easier to sit at a keyboard and vent, but she did have a prowler the other night. She found footprints outside her home, and her dog went ballistic.”
“Before or after the article?” Eddie asked.
“Before.”
“Probably not related, then,” Jeff said. “But she does need to take precautions living in the remote place that she does.”
“She’s very cautious,” asserted Mercy, remembering the rifle during their first visit.
“What are your next steps?” asked Jeff.
“I need to interview Don Baldwin, Grady Baldwin’s brother—who, by the way, has been keeping tabs on Britta for Grady for the last twenty years.”
“Could he be her prowler?” Eddie suggested.
“I wouldn’t rule it out.” She looked at the list in her hand. “I’d like to talk with Britta again. I feel like she’s holding something back, but I don’t know what. She’s reached out to me twice now, so I think she’s starting to trust me.”
“That’s the old cases—the solved cases,” Jeff reminded her. “What are you doing on the new?”
“I’m waiting for some evidence on the Jorgensen case. And I want to talk with Janet Norris again. I told you she was Maria Verbeek’s friend, right?”
Jeff nodded. “That’s a coincidence I don’t like.”
“Me neither.” Mercy went back to her list. “The investment firm Ray Jorgensen worked for had some legal issues not too long ago. I want to look into those and the neighbor’s statement that Sharla Jorgensen asked questions about getting a divorce. Back to the Hartlage family, I keep stumbling over one aspect of their case—I can’t figure out the brother-in-law’s name. I know Corrine’s maiden name was Palmer, but for the life of me I can’t find his name or someone who knows him.”
“No other relatives?” asked Eddie.
“I found Richard’s uncle, who didn’t know anything about Corrine’s family. Darby has been digging, and she’s stumped too.”
“Maybe he wasn’t a brother-in-law,” suggested Jeff.
Mercy blinked.
I was so hung up on one aspect, I didn’t consider any others.
“I didn’t think of that!” Mercy wanted to bang her head on Jeff’s desk. Case tunnel vision.
“Who originally told you the other man was Corrine’s brother?”
“Kenneth Forbes. The neighbor said that was what Richard told him. I’ve been operating on hearsay.” She closed her eyes and tipped back her head. “Stupid. Stupid. But I still haven’t come across anything that indicates who he is.”
“What about his mail in the house?” Eddie asked.
“None. And there’s no mailbox at the home, so they must get their mail at the post office. I suppose if mail is no longer picked up, they return to the sender? I’ll check.”
“Good—”
The office door opened. “Mercy?” Melissa, the office manager, interrupted, worried lines creasing her forehead. “You’ve got a call. He seems very insistent.”
“Who?” Mercy glanced at Jeff, embarrassed that their meeting had been disturbed.
“One of Truman’s men. Ben Cooley.”
Mercy checked her silenced phone, and alarm shot through her. She had four missed calls from the Eagle’s Nest Police Department. “Something’s up, Jeff. Can I take a minute?”
“Is there anything else we need to cover?”
“Not really.”
“Then we’re done. Tell Ben hello from me.”
Mercy darted to her office and picked up the call, not bothering to sit down. “Ben?”
“Sorry to bug you at work, Mercy. Have you talked to Truman today?”
“No. He texted me early this morning, but I’ve been on the go all day.” She tightened her grip on the phone. “What happened?”
“Well, we don’t rightly know,” Ben said slowly, reluctance in his voice.
“What do you know?” she asked firmly. Get to it, Ben!
“No one’s heard or seen him since around nine this morning. He even missed an interview he’d scheduled for this morning. That’s not like him. I’ve followed his steps best I could, but I hit a dead end.”
“It’s nearly four o’clock.” Mercy forced her lungs to work properly. “How can you just be calling me now? I would think I’d be one of your first calls.”
Ben was silent on his end.
“Ben? What happened?”
“We wanted to check all possibilities first because we didn’t want you worried.”
“Well, now I’m definitely worried. What possibilities?” She wanted to reach through the line and shake the older man to get him to talk faster.
“I found human blood in his driveway on the driver’s side next to where he usually parks. It was fresh.”
Mercy leaned on one hand on the desk, dizziness threatening. Her tongue stopped functioning and her mouth went bone-dry.
“His phone is going straight to voice mail,” Ben continued. “His wireless carrier says his last location was his home. We checked the hospitals and clinics before calling you. We’ve put out a BOLO on his vehicle, and all the guys have clocked in to do patrols, looking for his Tahoe. We’ll find him,” he said in a caring tone.
Blood?
“His SUV is missing?” she whispered.
“Yes. He couldn’t have been too hurt if he managed to drive away.”
If he was the one driving.
“I’ll be there in forty minutes.” She ended the call. Sweat had bloomed under her arms and dampened her lower back. This wasn’t like Truman. Panic exploded in her head and chest, making her legs shake. She shut it down. Panic doesn’t help anyone.
“I have to go,” she said out loud to her empty office.
Her brain shifted into get-shit-done mode.
I’ll tell Jeff I’m leaving for the day and then follow up on Truman’s recent calls.