Chapter 6
They were staying at the historic Hilton Capitol Center hotel, which overlooked the wide expanse of the Mississippi River. As soon as Rachel entered the hotel’s lobby, she heard her name being called. She turned to see a tall blond woman walking in long strides across the lobby to meet her. The woman was wearing a sensible dark pantsuit with pumps, her short hair pulled into a tight nubby ponytail.
“Agent Krapek. What a surprise,” Rachel greeted her.
Rachel had met FBI Special Agent Cyndy Krapek when they’d worked another case together in the Bahamas, one that involved the missing daughter of Florida’s governor, John Knowles. After the teenager had disappeared during spring break, Knowles had called Florida Omni Search for help. That was how Rachel had ended up working in tandem with Krapek, who was part of the FBI’s Crimes Against Children (CAC) Unit, along with Agent Lee Phipps and Agent Drake Reynolds.
“The NOPD called us for assistance on this one. I figured we would run into you sooner or later,” Krapek said. Agent Krapek was taller than Rachel by about three inches and was built like a fine-tuned athlete. She was intimidating in more ways than one.
“Anything new on your end?” Rachel asked.
“No, we’re still tracking down and interviewing witnesses from the truck stop. We’ve set up an on-site command post here at the hotel.” Krapek looked around the lobby. “I’m supposed to be meeting Phipps here. We’re heading over to the police station for a briefing.”
“Is Agent Reynolds working this one as well?”
Rachel had gotten close to Special Agent Drake Reynolds when they’d worked the Knowles case, but she hadn’t talked with him since she’d been back from Mexico.
“No, he’s on personal leave. His mom isn’t doing well.” Krapek looked around the lobby again, seemingly distracted. “Her cancer is back and she’s doing some heavy-duty chemo treatments. So it’s just Phipps and me on this one.”
“Oh, I didn’t know. Well, please give Drake my best.” Rachel shook Krapek’s hand. “You have my number if you need our help.”
Rachel headed for the elevator and left Krapek to wait for Phipps in the lobby. She liked working on cases in tandem with the FBI, but she was also glad she wasn’t held to the strict rules and regulations that they had to follow. Sometimes she had to do some unorthodox things when it came to locating a missing person.
She dragged her suitcase into the hotel room and threw it on the bed. She had about fifteen minutes to change clothes and freshen up before meeting Red back in the lobby. Rachel changed into a pair of dark jeans and a soft blue polo shirt, washed her face, brushed her teeth, and brushed her shoulder-length auburn hair. She hated the way the humidity played havoc and made it frizzy. No wonder Krapek always wore hers in a ponytail.
Exactly fifteen minutes later, Rachel met Red in the lobby. He was sitting on a leather couch talking with an attractive lady of a certain age. Rachel almost hated to interrupt him. Despite his recent heart attack, Red still looked good, and she knew he wanted a companion. He was in his early fifties, but his stocky frame was muscular and fit from working out and eating “rabbit food,” as he called it.
“Hi, Red. Are you ready to go?” Rachel called out from behind him.
“Sure,” he answered. He introduced Rachel to the lady he was speaking with. She was dressed in business casual wear, with tailored khaki pants and a white button blouse. Rachel thought the lady to be in her late forties or early fifties. Red introduced her as June Hollis and said she was a schoolteacher visiting relatives in the area.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” June said. “Anyone ever tell you that you look like Julia Roberts?”
Rachel laughed. “Yes, all the time. I think it’s the hair.”
“And the smile,” June said as she patted Red on the leg. “See you later?” she asked him.
Rachel raised an eyebrow at Red as he tossed her the car keys.
“I’ll meet you outside in just a minute.” Red gave Rachel a coy smile.
Rachel figured he was lining up a late date with the schoolteacher and left to go bring the car around. When Red got inside the car, she couldn’t resist teasing him just a little.
“I was only gone fifteen minutes and you already have a date with a woman you met in the lobby. That has to be a record. You lead a more exciting love life than I do.”
Red cocked an eyebrow and replied, “Speaking of love life, how’s Mike doing?”
Mike Mancini was a former DEA agent turned private consultant whom Rachel had met during an investigation. They’d shared perhaps a few more intimacies than average professional acquaintances, but Rachel wasn’t ready to define their relationship just yet.
“He landed a big gig with the Jacksonville police department, working with their narcotics division. I talked to him briefly after he left Mexico.”
Mike had come with Rachel to Cozumel when she first learned about the lead on her missing daughter, both for support and for some quiet time together. But he’d eventually had to return to work. They tried to talk on the phone whenever they could, but with their busy schedules, it was hard to do sometimes.
Thoughts of Mike left Rachel’s head a minute later, as Red pulled into a parking spot at the truck stop. Inside, she and Red got a booth and waited for Keith. The restaurant was full of truckers stopping to get a quick bite to eat and gas up their rigs before hitting the road. The tables were sticky, the coffee scalding hot, and the smell of bacon wafted through the air.
“Here he comes now.” Red pointed out the window to a purple eighteen-wheeler pulling into the parking lot. Rachel watched as Keith expertly parked his rig, jumped out, and waltzed into the restaurant. He was wearing tight Levis, a plaid button-down shirt, and cowboy boots. He removed his ball cap as he walked to their table.
Red made the introductions as Keith sat down.
Rachel immediately sized him up. He looked to be around midforties, with sandy blond hair and a kind face.
“Thanks for meeting with us. Tell me about the night you met Matt O’Malley,” Rachel said. She took her notepad out of her purse.
Keith cleared his throat before he began. “I have a private rig and run a route from Katy, Texas, to Jackson, Mississippi, a couple times a week. Last Thursday night, I was headed back to Jackson when I stopped here for a bite to eat around eight thirty in the evening. I was checking my rig when this guy walked up and asked me for money. It’s not unusual, especially in this town, for homeless people to hang around truck stops looking for rides or something to eat. Right off, though, something made me want to help this guy. He wasn’t just your usual vagrant, he seemed more like a regular guy who’d had a rough night or something.”
“Why is that?” Rachel asked.
“For starters, he carried himself a lot nicer than most homeless people who wander around here. The clothes he was wearing were a little disheveled but somewhat clean. His hair was neatly trimmed, and there was a little stubble on his face, but otherwise he was in good shape. I gave him a ten-dollar bill and invited him to eat with me. I had a feeling the guy would have an interesting story. We sat at that table over there.” Keith pointed to a booth a few feet away. “We both ordered dinner, and while we waited to be served, I tried to make some small talk. I started by asking him what his name was and where he was from.”
“What did he say?”
“A strange look crossed his face. I just figured that something bad must have happened to him and he didn’t want to talk about it. So we talked about the weather and sports instead. Or I should say that I talked. He didn’t say much of anything. He didn’t even eat that much. Just a few sips of water and a couple bites of food.”
“What was his mental state like?” Rachel asked.
“He looked a little lost, maybe confused. Thank goodness the food came quick. We ate in silence. I asked him if he needed a lift anywhere when we were done. He said no, thanked me again for the money and the grub, and then hit the restroom. I paid the check, and while I was pulling out, I saw him stumble out to the parking lot. I thought he may have been drinking, but come to think of it, I never smelled any alcohol on him.” Keith shrugged. “That was the last I saw of him until I spotted the flyer.”
“When was that?” Rachel asked.
“The next morning when I left Jackson, I headed out back on the road to Katy. I always stop at the Feed and Fuel near my house. When I headed inside, I saw a flyer on the door with this guy’s face on it. I was shocked. I immediately pulled out my phone and called the tip line.”
Red finished his coffee and pushed the cup aside. “The call came into our hotline, and Janine called me right away. I headed up to Baton Rouge and met Keith later that morning. Along with the Baton Rouge police department.”
“He never mentioned having a family or living in New Orleans?” Rachel asked.
“The only thing I got out of him was his name. Matt. I remember that because it’s my nephew’s name. Like I said, I figured the guy was down on his luck. With this economy, you’d be surprised how many men and women are on the street looking for work.”
Rachel took a business card out of her purse and slid it across the table to Keith. “Please call me if you remember anything else.”
Keith fingered the card before putting it in his wallet. “I’ve been watching the news. Do you think he killed his wife and kids?”
“We don’t know yet. He may be suffering from memory problems.” Rachel finished her iced tea and put a twenty-dollar bill on top of the check.
“I’d tend to believe that. He looked really lost. Sort of dazed and confused. I hope everything works out and y’all find his family.” Keith stood up to leave. “It was nice to meet you.”
Rachel waited until Keith was out of earshot. “Well, that was a total loss.”
“Not completely,” Red said. “We have established somewhat of a time line. Matt and his family went missing sometime Wednesday evening between six and seven. Keith ran into him in the truck stop parking lot on Thursday evening at eight thirty.”
“What I want to know is how Matt got to Baton Rouge from New Orleans. We’ll head to New Orleans in the morning and start at where Matt’s truck was found.” Rachel looked at her watch. “I need to catch up on my sleep,” she said. “Since we don’t need to go back to the truck stop in the morning now, we can leave around nine tomorrow?”
“I’ll be ready.”
As they pulled into the hotel parking lot, they spotted Agents Krapek and Phipps putting their luggage into a dark sedan. She checked the time. It was almost midnight.
“Leaving already?” Rachel said, surprised.
A quick look passed between both agents. Rachel immediately knew something was wrong. A knot settled in her stomach.
“They’ve found a woman’s body in Houma. No identification yet, but we’re going to check it out,” Phipps said.
“Where is Houma?” Rachel asked.
“It’s about an hour southwest of New Orleans,” Phipps said as he climbed into the driver’s seat. “A lot of swamp. We’ll let you know what we find out.”
Rachel watched as they pulled out of the parking lot. She put her hand on her stomach, regretting the blackened alligator appetizer she’d eaten earlier. “I hope that doesn’t turn out to be Matt O’Malley’s wife.”
“Yeah, me too.” Red took her by the elbow as they walked into the lobby. “Me too.”