What Janie Saw Page 7
Breakfast wasn’t even a possibility, so she made her way to the barn. As a rule, she didn’t work very closely with animals, but the few that were here at the house were cared for by all. Luckily, Yoda, the hybrid wolf dog, had taken a shine to her.
“You hungry?” she asked. Silly question, Yoda was always hungry. And frisky. He was the only animal in her charge now that wasn’t wounded somehow.
Unless loneliness counted as a wound.
“Meredith will be back soon,” Janie promised.
Yoda was proof that Meredith had a soft side. BAA’s head keeper truly got along better with animals than people. She’d championed the wolf dog, and had trained him to act as an ambassador for both BAA and his species. But unfortunately, because he was part dog and part wolf, he belonged nowhere.
Kind of like Janie.
BAA was her sister’s world, and while Janie enjoyed working there, it wasn’t her calling.
Janie wanted to travel the animal world and paint it.
Even more, she wanted to know that she could do it, alone, without Katie. Katie saw animals as something to take care of; Janie saw them as beautiful, powerful and—if mankind would leave them and their habitats alone—able to thrive on their own, with simple rules for survival.
She’d yet to exist in a world that had simple rules.
She’d yet to exist in a world where she even got to help make the rules.
It was her turn.
After filling Yoda’s dish, she quickly took care of the other animals in her charge. As they were injured, she wasn’t allowed to touch, only to report. She checked the bandage on a barn owl, no seepage. Two sheep stood in a pen, both with stitches from finding the only spot in their usual pen that had a sharp edge. Janie figured they’d go home to the flock today. There was also a family of wild turkey that had been left at BAA’s front entrance.
The turkeys were underweight and covered with some sort of tarlike residue that Fred, BAA’s veterinarian, hadn’t been able to completely remove. They also were all running temperatures, and Fred suspected they might be carrying a disease other animals could catch. Consequently, he’d moved them here instead of using his clinic.
When the animals were all cared for, Janie set off for BAA.
The March weather was gorgeous—her favorite thing about Scorpion Ridge, Arizona, was the temperate climate. Instead of taking her car, she decided to walk the block and a half to BAA.
But a mere three minutes into the jaunt, a car slowed and offered her a ride. This happened just about every time she walked to work. People noticed her uniform, guessed where she worked and offered her a ride. Never before had the act scared her. She was tough, after all. She’d survived Aunt Betsy for a whole year by herself. But today, when the blue Buick slowed, for a moment she’d been poised to run, her left heel in the air, her toes dug into the earth, her body tensed for takeoff.
“No, thanks,” she said, backing away from the car. The tone of Janie’s voice probably scared the woman more than the woman had scared Janie.
This was why Sheriff Rafael Salazar wanted to guard her, shadow her, keep in contact with her—she was a flight risk.
She broke into a run, striving to get to BAA quickly. Ten minutes later, happy to be surrounded by people who knew her, Janie was in the employees’ lounge and gearing up to start her day.
Today she was filling in for the college student who usually helped in the gift shop on Fridays. Luckily, working in the gift shop was her second favorite job. In the last year, she’d single-handedly turned it into a shop to behold.
“Artistically pleasing,” Janie called it.
“Not enough white space,” was her brother-in-law’s opinion.
Either way, sales increased.
The cashier station was Janie’s favorite position. From there, she could people-watch: study facial expressions and the way people held their heads, stretched their necks.
This morning, she’d beaten Gloria, Fred’s wife and the manager of the gift shop, to work. Switching on the lights, she first checked to see that everything was in its place. Sometimes the cleaning crew left surprises: stuffed animals on the floor, books flipped so the back and not the cover showed, and candy stocked in the wrong place. She was just heading to the register when the door opened. She turned, expecting to see Gloria, but instead Rafe’s body filled the doorframe. Never before had she appreciated his size.
He made her feel safe.
But he was a cop. He’d turn on her the minute she didn’t do what he wanted.
“What happened with the case yesterday?” she asked after greeting him.
“I made sure the new art book was tagged and then I spoke to a couple of the men who are familiar with the case. Nathan never made it in. I’ve called him a couple of times this morning and left messages, but he’s obviously busy.”
Surprised that he’d shared that much, she said, “That’s got to be frustrating.”
He stepped into the shop and leaned against the wall stacked with children’s books. Next to him a large, stuffed green snake hung. Janie was struck by the urge to tickle his nose with it and see if he smiled.
What an irrational thought!
Tonight she definitely had to get that much-needed sleep, if for no other reason than to keep these strange thoughts about Rafael Salazar from plaguing her.
“Nathan’s a hardworking cop. Right now he’s not only dealing with a drug ring in his backyard, but also with how it’s linked to Brittney’s disappearance.”
“Good thing he’s got you.”
Rafe raised his eyebrows. “Nathan doesn’t really need me.”
“I was referring to Derek.”
He left, but throughout the morning, he stopped by again half a dozen times. Occasionally, he passed along some development in the case, like that the Chaneys had recognized one of the students Janie had pinpointed. Other times, he just walked through, making his presence known with a smile or a wave.
“You’ve got a beau,” Gloria whispered.
Janie busied herself instead of responding. If she said no, then she’d have to explain why Rafe was suddenly around so much. It felt surreal to think that there were people at BAA who had no idea that Janie’s world was no longer ordinary.
Adam stopped by more than once, too. One time he got there right as Rafe did. No surprise, the two men knew each other and were soon talking and heading toward one of the food kiosks.
Maybe Rafe would tell Adam what Janie couldn’t.
“It’s funny,” said Gloria, right in Janie’s ear, startling her. “I thought for a while it would be you and Adam, but that would never have worked.”
Usually Gloria couldn’t sneak up on her. Gloria could pose for an older version of the Swiss Miss. Stealth wasn’t an option.
“Nope, you two would have been competing all your lives and never would have been able to realize that you’re both talented at what you do. Rafe, now he’s a better match for you.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you’d be good for each other. He needs to realize that he can’t keep the world safe. And you need to realize that the world is yours for the taking.”
Gloria had never before showed any gift at fiction. Funny she was sprouting it now.
“What do you mean he wants to keep the world safe but can’t? He’s a cop, he’s supposed to help people.”
“His urge to protect stems from more than being a cop, it goes back to before he was born, when his brother was taken and—”
Rafe was back. And he didn’t look happy.
He put Gloria in her place with a crisp “Not your story to tell.”
* * *
RAFE WASN’T SURE why he didn’t want Janie to know about his family’s tragedy. Maybe because he didn’t want her to pity him. Or
maybe because he didn’t want to hear her echo what others said about missing-kid cases—that they were hopeless.
“She’s gonna find out one way or another,” Gloria said matter-of-factly. “It’s not as if people don’t talk.”
Usually, Rafe didn’t care. If the worst his critics could come up with was: “He gets too involved,” or “He takes it too personally,” he had no problems living with that. Better that than the cop so hardened he didn’t get involved, or had forgotten that some things deserved to be personal.
And yet, maybe he had let the Travis case become too personal. He had many other things to do, and yet instead he was here at BAA, just in case something happened. Would he have gotten so involved if it had been anyone else except this woman?
“Go ahead,” Gloria urged. “I can watch the shop. You two go off somewhere—one of the food courts or, hey, better yet, head on up to the cabin. It’s not being used today. You’ll have privacy and—”
“He’s here on business, Gloria,” Janie finally said. “When the business is finished, so is he.”
Well, she’d certainly been clear about her feelings.
Before Gloria could make another matchmaking attempt or Janie could remind him of how not interested she was, he left the gift shop and busied himself by returning phone calls and catching up on paperwork in his SUV.
Not a very productive day.
As the afternoon crowd thinned, he decided it was going to be just another typical day at the zoo. So at two, Rafe headed over to Lee and Sandy Travis’s. They lived just north of downtown Scorpion Ridge. Lee sold insurance.
Toys were spread across the front yard, neglected. Up until four months ago, Rafe couldn’t visit the Travises without having their youngest daughter grab his knees and beg to be carried, or without having their only son toss him a football. Their middle daughter, just a year younger than Brittney, usually sat on the step, watching her siblings, a cell phone in her hand as she texted. Last few times Rafe had driven by, no one played in the yard.
Funny how a house with toys strewn everywhere could look lonely.
He’d just raised his fist to knock when the door opened.
Lee, dressed for work, blocked the door. “Sheriff.”
Used to be, Lee had called him Rafe. But often his job became an entity, defining him, separating him like armor from the man he really was, the friend he could be.
“Got a minute?”
Lee stepped aside so Rafe could enter. Sandy was already standing in the doorway of the kitchen, a dish towel in one hand and a plate in the other. Resignation had thinned her lips. Dark circles had made a home under her eyes.
She reminded him of Derek’s mother.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Lee offered. “We’ve got sun tea or bottled water.”
Sandy didn’t wait for an answer. She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with the bottled water. Rafe took a long drink, suddenly wishing he’d brought Janie with him. She’d been good with Judy Chaney, praising Derek’s art ability. Maybe here she could have been some help, offered a woman’s perspective.
“I’ve got some photos I’d like you to look at.” Rafe opened his iPad and quickly went to PhotoFinder. “But first, what size shoe did Brittney wear?”
“Seven,” said Sandy, settling down beside him and scrutinizing the iPad screen before Rafe had a chance to scroll to the pictures he wanted them to see. “That’s Tommy Skinley,” she identified the boy in the first photo. “He sometimes drove Brittney to college, as you’ll recall. His little sister was always along, too. Amanda.”
“Tommy wouldn’t do anything to Brittney,” Lee said. “They’ve known each other forever. He’s not an easy kid, but...” Lee’s words tapered off.
“Did Brittney own a pair of green tennis shoes, high-tops?”
Sandy made a face. “No.”
The shoe they’d found under Derek’s bed was a size six, but even Rafe knew that size could depend on brand and width and such.
“Do you mind if I look in her room, at her shoes?”
“Go right ahead.” Lee stood, leading Rafe into his oldest daughter’s room. It was neat, but untouched since Brittney disappeared. A layer of dust was on the dresser. A math book was open and turned upside-down on a desk in the corner. All Brittney’s shoes were lined up on the floor of her closet. She had five pairs, but none of the shoes were missing a mate.
Rafe checked under the bed to be sure: nothing.
“We have a new lead,” Rafe shared with the Travises when he joined them in the living room. Sandy still held the dish towel and a plate in her hand. Rafe spoke quickly so he wouldn’t give them hope only to have to extinguish it. “A teacher at Adobe Hills Community College read something in a student’s art book that might be related to Brittney’s disappearance. All I’m doing now is trying to follow a trail. Tommy has been identified as a person of interest. It could be that Tommy knows something and isn’t even aware he knows it.”
“You questioned him back in December,” Lee reminded Rafe.
As one of Brittney’s car-pool buddies, Tommy had been interrogated early and often. After all of that, Rafe concluded that Tommy was hiding something but not about her disappearance.
He was hiding his mistress—meth.
The Travises didn’t recognize Wesley Clinton, Kyle Easterly or Ramona Turk—the other three students Janie had picked out of CopLink. Rafe wasn’t surprised; after all, the three had been Derek’s cronies, not Brittney’s. They were also older, harder and not even full-time students. Both Wesley and Kyle had already dropped out of the classes they’d been taking. Ramona still attended classes, but she’d been absent this last week.
“What exactly did the instructor come across?” Lee asked.
“I’m not at liberty to say. I personally haven’t seen the art book. It was handed over to the campus police.” Rafe wasn’t lying; he just didn’t want to tell the Travises that they’d found a confession then misplaced it. “I’m just doing some legwork here in Scorpion Ridge to help move things along.”
“Is she alive?” Sandy whispered.
On every other visit, Rafe had answered, “I don’t know. I’m praying.”
This visit... He sat on their worn brown couch, looking at the schoolbooks, deserted shoes and assorted kid projects that made these four walls a home. And the words wouldn’t come.
Sandy dropped the dish towel on the floor and ran toward a bedroom at the back of the house, the plate remaining in her grasp. Her soft keen of pain permeated through the walls as she fled.
Then a door slammed, and they heard the plate smash to the ground, shattered like Sandy Travis’s world.
CHAPTER SIX
ON SATURDAY, JANIE again took care of the animals that were sequestered at Katie’s house and then worked in the gift shop at the zoo. It was boring, and Rafe had clearly decided that tailing Janie wasn’t his priority. Instead he’d sent Officer Candy Riorden, who loved animals.
“Can I help feed the camels?” was Candy’s first question. Followed by: “Can I pet the lion?” She got that wish, but only because Terrance had the personality of a poodle, very few teeth left and not enough energy to work up a good swat.
When Candy left, Chief of Police Jeff Summerside appeared. It only took Janie a few hours to realize that he and Candy were taking turns on guard duty. Chief Summerside was definitely the more serious of the two. He followed Janie, never interfering or getting involved, mostly nodding at what she did but mostly scanning the crowd.
She got the idea crowds made him nervous.
But it bothered her that she felt abandoned by Rafe. She obviously didn’t rate very high on his list of priorities.
“Where’s the sheriff?” Janie finally asked when Summerside showed up—for the third time that day—just before closing.
For once, Janie felt a little sorry for him. That didn’t sound like fun. No wonder he hadn’t even managed a text. Cops did, indeed, walk a rigid line.
Sunday wasn’t much better. Katie ventured out to the barn Sunday morning as Janie was feeding the turkeys. In a brown shirt and waddling, she looked a bit like a turkey herself.
“Luke took off for Young, Arizona, at two this morning.”
“Why?” Janie asked.
“Got a call about some guy who has a black panther as a pet. Guy can’t keep him anymore. Luke thinks we can afford him.”
Luke thought they could afford elephants and rhinoceroses, too. Until Katie talked him down. That was something she did for both of them. Through Janie’s whole life, Katie had been the beacon keeping her sane. There’d been one year, though, when Janie had been alone with Aunt Betsy, and no one had been there to save her.
Closets.
Cigarette smoke.
Not enough food.
“Janie,” Katie said. “Did you hear what I just said?”
“No.”
“Stop worrying,” Katie advised. “You turned the art book over to the police, told them what it said. It’s their job now to figure out the truth.”
Janie nodded, gazing past Katie to the Santa Catalina mountains, the blue sky and the white clouds. Everything about Scorpion Ridge, Arizona, appeared perfect.
But appearances were deceiving.
Both Candy and Jeff Summerside were again on duty, each popping in at the gift shop every hour or so to check on her.
It annoyed Janie to no end that she looked for Rafe from the moment she left the house. It annoyed her even more that she was disappointed when she didn’t find him.
This time when Janie asked, she was informed that “Rafe has the day off.”
Janie didn’t get the day off. And she certainly didn’t get a day off from being scared. Maybe she wouldn’t ever stop feeling scared until she was far, far away from here, in South Africa.