She had little hope that Lydia Norris would call back.
Noah came from the alley alongside the house. “I don’t see anything,” he said. “Not that there’s much to see. Most of the blinds in the windows are pulled pretty tight.” Noah pointed toward the street. “Look,” he said. “That’s our patrol unit canvassing.”
Josie turned to see a uniformed officer with a notepad in hand emerging from the house directly across from Amber’s. Josie and Noah walked back to their car and waved him over. His name tag read: Daugherty.
Josie greeted him and then pointed to his car. “Did you happen to see a black Mercedes-Benz parked anywhere on the street when you pulled up?”
Daugherty shook his head. “No.”
“How long have you been out here?” Noah asked.
“A few hours. I actually came back to talk to this neighbor here,” he pointed to the house he’d just come from. “Because he had seen a male here at this residence a few times in the last week. I called Detective Palmer to see if she had any photos she wanted me to show him.”
“Did she?” Josie asked.
He took out his phone and showed them. “One of Detective Mettner. The guy said it wasn’t him. He knew that Mettner was her boyfriend. He said this was a different guy. So I showed him this one.” He swiped to the next photo that Gretchen had texted him. Josie recognized the driver’s license photo of Amber’s brother, Gabriel Watts. “He says this could be the guy but he can’t be certain.”
“How many times did he see this guy?” Noah asked.
Daugherty put his phone away and looked back at his notes. “Three times. The first time was about two weeks ago and then twice in the last week. Lurking. That’s why he noticed him. He kept standing out on the pavement like he was waiting for Amber to come out or something.”
“Did she?”
“Nah. Not while the guy was there. Not that this neighbor saw, anyway.”
“What about his clothes?” Josie asked.
Daugherty referenced his notes again. “Long black coat and sneakers. That’s all he could give me.”
It sounded like the same man Amber had gotten into a physical altercation with on McAllister Street the day Sawyer had seen her.
“What about the last three days?” Josie asked. “Did he see anyone else?”
Daugherty shook his head. “No. He said he’s only seen Mettner over there and then you and Detective Palmer with some lady today. That’s it. Oh, wait. He said that after you and Detective Palmer left, another guy showed up and knocked on the door. The lady came out, they talked for a while and then he left. A couple hours later, she came out, got into her car and drove off.”
“But that was not the same guy he had seen lurking?” Josie asked.
“No. He said this guy was older and he was wearing…” Daugherty flipped another page in his notebook. “A Carhartt jacket, jeans, work boots and a green cap.”
“Are you sure?” Josie said.
Daugherty looked up. “Yeah. That’s what he said.”
Noah raised a brow. “What is it?”
“Thatcher Toland,” Josie said. “The preacher. He was here. At Amber’s house.”
Twenty-Five
“How do you know it was Thatcher Toland in Komorrah’s?” asked Noah once they were back in the car.
Josie turned the heater to full blast and raised her voice to be heard over its roar. “It was him. Trust me. I’m sure.”
“What was he doing in Denton?” asked Noah as he pulled away from Amber’s house.
“He never did answer that question,” said Josie. “I assumed he was checking in on the hockey arena.”
Noah shook his head. “Right, but why was he at Amber’s house?”
“I’m going to find out,” she said. Josie was already on the Mobile Data Terminal trying to get his phone number. There were a dozen numbers for him and for his wife, Vivian. While Noah drove toward Mettner’s house, she called each one. A few were disconnected. The rest went to voicemail. Josie left messages.
“You’ll never get in touch with him,” said Noah. “He’s a celebrity now. There’s probably an army of people between him and the public.”
“I’m not the public,” Josie said.
“We’re better off trying to figure out where he’ll be and showing up there.”
Josie sighed. “You’re probably right. Let’s drive over to the hockey arena now.”
There was a beat of silence. “It’s almost six at night. Are you sure anyone, let alone Thatcher Toland, would be over there right now?”
“They’re in a mad rush to get that place opened by Christmas Eve, which is only a few days away. Someone will be there, believe me. Even if it’s not Thatcher, having the police show up to their work site is going to rattle some cages.”
Noah pulled to the side of the road and did a U-turn, heading back to East Denton and Thatcher Toland’s new megachurch. As they drew closer, roadblocks appeared. The construction taking place both inside the old hockey arena and outside to its parking lot and the surrounding property was so extensive that several local roads had to be closed off so that heavy equipment and large trucks could be moved in and out. Noah skirted the area until he found a construction entrance, then he turned in, following a large box truck down a long road. Ahead, the huge circular building rose up with newly pointed brick walls, shiny new glass panels along the second level of the building—one of its concourses, from what Josie remembered—and large neon signs pronouncing: RECTIFY CHURCH: ALL ARE WELCOME and THATCHER TOLAND MINISTRIES.