“Most of yesterday was spent going through the chain of custody,” Glenn was saying, “but the upshot is that it’s unaccounted for, and nobody claims to have any knowledge of it.”
He shrugged before continuing. “Expensive and belonging to a TV celebrity would make it worth stealing, so it’s conceivable that somebody at the hospital lifted it. You know what the ER’s like. But I had a deputy review the videos from hospital security cameras, and nobody was captured toting it out. Besides, the EMTs who brought her in said they never saw it. Logical conclusion, the perps have it.”
“What’re your detectives saying?”
“About the bag?”
“The investigation in general.”
“I’ve read the highlights of Kerra’s two interviews with them.”
He recounted them to Trapper, and they matched the highlights that Kerra had given him.
“But have there been any breakthroughs?” Glenn said. “No. Seven people were inside the house that afternoon and evening, and that’s not counting the two from the café who delivered the fried chicken dinner. The production crew had been meandering around all afternoon, hauling equipment in and out, stringing cords from outlets in the back rooms to the living area. They were in practically every room of the house at one time or another.”
“Meaning there’s enough trace evidence in there for a hundred cases.”
“Right. What we collected, we sent to the Tarrant County’s SO lab. They have better equipment than smaller departments like mine, but that also keeps them busy and backlogged. It could take several days before they even look at the samples.”
Trapper understood the frustration of wanting answers and having to wait for them while perpetrators remained unknown and the trail grew colder. “Nothing else shook loose?”
“From the crime scene? Not really. This shit,” Glenn said of the weather, “hadn’t started yet. The ground was dry, hard to get impressions off dry and rocky ground. I’ve got personnel working around the clock, and now the Rangers have joined the party. Waltzed in and said they wanted to question Kerra Bailey.”
Trapper didn’t tell him he already knew that. He leaned back in his seat and stared thoughtfully out the window. “I had her talk me through it.”
“Reckoned you had. That’s why I called this meeting. You had no authority to do that, Trapper.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“She was instructed—”
“Don’t blame her. I browbeat her into talking about it.”
When he stopped with that, Glenn prodded him. “Well? Wha’d she say?”
“She described what it was like for her inside the powder room. Her fear. Knowing she would die if the individuals on the other side of the door got to her. She used nickel words, Glenn.”
The sheriff shot him a look. “Fuck does that mean?”
“As opposed to fifty-cent words, which would have led me to believe they were chosen ahead of time and rehearsed, that she was trying to impress me or that she was lying. She wasn’t that smooth.”
“But what? You’re frowning.”
“But…” Trapper sighed and shook his head in frustration. He was frowning because he sensed Kerra was holding something back, something that made her afraid. He was frowning because of all the names Carson could have dropped this morning, the name had been Thomas Wilcox. Who had crossed paths with Kerra. Which could be a bizarre coincidence. Or not. In any case, it raised the hair on the back of Trapper’s neck.
“You think she saw more than she’s telling?” Glenn asked.
“I don’t know.”
Glenn reentered the hospital parking lot and pulled the patrol car into the fire lane, where he set it to idle. “John, listen to me.”
“Stay out of it,” Trapper said, anticipating what Glenn had been about to say.
“That’s right. Stay out of it. You can’t go meddling in this investigation.”
“I’m a licensed investigator.”
“And the victim is your father. I don’t care what your beef was with him, you can’t be objective.”
“I don’t have a need for objectivity, because I have no intention of meddling in the investigation. So where’s this lecture coming from?”
“It’s coming from private, late-night visits to the material witness that lasted forty-three minutes.”
Trapper muttered a swear word. “Good man, Jenks. But for the record, it was only forty-two and a half.”
“It took Linda and me a whole lot less time to conceive Hank.”
“Really? You’re that quick on the draw?”
The sheriff turned in his seat, squeezing his paunch beneath the steering wheel. “John, for once, please—”
“Do yourself a favor,” Trapper said, again anticipating the next words out of Glenn’s mouth. “You don’t call me John unless the subject is serious or you’re about to impart unsolicited advice.”
“Okay, be a smart-ass. But I’m going to say this, and you’re going to hear it. Don’t rile the wrong people. You did that once, and look what happened.”
“I quit.”
“Whatever, you lost your job. Didn’t you learn anything from that?”
“Yeah. I learned that I put up with that bureaucratic bullshit for much longer than I should have.”
“Oh, like you’re the epitome of happiness in the workplace these days?”
Trapper gnawed the inside of his cheek, then reached for the door latch and popped it. “I’ve got someplace to be.”
“Where?”
“Someplace else.”
It took all morning for Kerra to be released from the hospital. Five minutes were devoted to the doctor’s final physical exam, five hours to signing all the dismissal forms. By the time she’d completed the paperwork, she felt more like crawling back into the bed than leaving under the escort of two deputies.
They drove her directly from the hospital to the sheriff’s office in the courthouse, where she was led into an interrogation room. Two Texas Rangers and Sheriff Addison himself were waiting for her there.
She and the sheriff shook hands. “You’re looking a lot better than the last time I saw you,” he said.
“I’m feeling better. Has there been any change in The Major’s condition?”
“Actually, there’s good news.” He shared what he knew and held up crossed fingers. “Baby steps. But thirty-six hours ago we didn’t think he’d live through the night.”
She splayed her hand over her chest. “I’m so glad to hear this.”
During their exchange the Rangers had been standing by. The sheriff introduced her to them now. All took seats around a table and, after explaining to her that the session was being recorded, one of the Rangers took the lead.
“We’ve spoken to the detectives, Ms. Bailey, but this time we’re hearing it straight from you. For our benefit, please start at the beginning, and tell us everything you remember.”
“My story hasn’t deviated from the first time I told it,” she said. “Except for one detail. Well, actually two details. I’m not sure what significance either has.”
Looking interested and mildly surprised, the sheriff clasped his large hands together on the table. “Let’s hear ’em. We’ll determine their significance.”