The silence that follows lingers an instant too long and I sense our thoughts have ventured back to this morning. “What about you, Kate?” he asks. “Everything okay there?”
“The CSU finished processing the scene.” I’m well aware that he wasn’t asking about the case, but I fall back into cop mode anyway. Safer ground, I realize, and not just for me. “There wasn’t much.” Thinking of the blood, I sigh. “The traffic-accident specialist tried to piece together what might have happened, but he didn’t have enough for a definitive scenario. He suspects the victim may have been struck by a vehicle and received abrasions from the asphalt.”
At this point, that’s a best-case scenario, but neither of us says it.
“Are you driving up here?” he asks.
“I hate to leave with Sadie still missing, but I’m spinning my wheels here.”
“Kate … I wanted to tell you I know I shouldn’t have laid all that on you this morning,” he says. “I mean about moving in together.”
“It’s okay,” I say quickly. “You just caught me off guard.”
“Bad timing on my part.”
“It was just … unexpected. Things are a little muddled for me right now. I mean with the case. I think I just need a little space.” I cringe, hating the way the words sounded, wishing I could somehow take them back.
He sighs. “They’re getting ready to interview Karns. I’ve got to get in there.”
In that instant, more than anything else in the world, I want to be there. I want to be with Tomasetti. I want to be there when they question Karns. If the man is guilty of murdering Annie King, there’s a high probability he’s involved with the disappearance of Sadie Miller.
“Tomasetti?”
“Yeah?”
A hundred words dangle on my tongue. I want to say something that will make all of this awkwardness between us go away. I want to let him know we’re okay, that things really aren’t muddled and the problem is that I suck at honest communication, especially when there’s so much at stake.
“I’m thinking about it,” I blurt.
The statement needs no explanation. “Okay,” he tells me.
I close my eyes. “Let me know how it goes with Karns.” And I hit END before he can respond.
*
I’ve barely hung up when my cell goes off. I look down and see Auggie’s name on the display and groan inwardly. For several seconds, I debate whether to answer, because I already know the direction in which the conversation will go.
“Kate, look, I just wanted to let you know I’ve talked to the county attorney about the charges against Bradford.” He begins the conversation as if my only thought in the world is the state of his son’s life. “I also spoke with Judge Seibenthaler. They suggested I speak with you. I thought we could discuss it and perhaps get the charges bumped down.”
“Auggie, I’ve got my hands full with the Sadie Miller case.”
“I’m not asking you to drop the charges.…”
He drones on as if I’m not there, and I realize that no matter how I handle this, I’m going to lose. I hit END, grab my keys off the desk, and leave my office.
In the reception area, I find Glock standing at Mona’s station. “I could shoot him for you,” he offers without preamble.
“Might not go over too well with the town council,” I say.
Mona snorts. “On the other hand, it might help get that new budget passed.”
“You know I could charge both of you with conspiracy to commit murder, right?”
The three of us break into laughter, and another layer of stress sloughs off my back.
“You heading back to Buck Creek?” Mona asks.
I tell them about my conversation with Tomasetti and the photo found at Stacy Karns’s home. “I hate to leave with the Miller girl still missing. But it looks like Karns might be our guy.”
“She could be in Buck Creek,” Glock puts in.
I sigh. “How do you feel about putting together some volunteers and searching the woods near her house again?”
“I’m all for it. I think Rasmussen is trying to get some dogs out there again, too.”
I turn my attention to Mona. “Anything interesting on any of those names?”
She looks up from her computer and shakes her head. “The only thing I’ve found so far is a piece from The Early Bird newspaper. Apparently, the Mast farm is historical. One hundred and fifty years ago, it was a stop on the Underground Railroad.”
“Probably not too helpful in terms of the case.”
“Interesting, though,” Glock puts in.
Mona hits a few keys. “I’m just getting started, so maybe something will pop.”
I start toward the door, wishing I could be as optimistic. “Call me if you need anything.”
*
Two hours later, I’m in the Explorer, heading north on Ohio 44. I’m ten minutes from Buck Creek when my cell phone chirps. I glance down, half-expecting to see the mayor’s name on the display. I’m relieved to see it’s Mona.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“Hey, Chief, I wasn’t sure if I should bother you with this, but I think I found something interesting on that Amish couple in Monongahela Falls.”
“The Masts?”
“Did you know they lost a daughter, Rebecca?”