Part 14 (1/2)
”Open up!” I pounded Cece's solid front door while Coleman went to the back.
”Cece!” I rattled the k.n.o.b. The door was locked. Judging from the look of the house, no one was home. I amended the thought to no one alive was home. The sense of emptiness was palpable.
I retrieved my cell phone from my pocket and called information to get the home number of Amis Truesdale, the publisher and executive editor of the Dispatch. If Cece worked today, my fears were unfounded. But if-- ”Amis Truesdale.” His voice was crisp, no-nonsense.
I explained who I was and asked if Cece had been in the office that day.
”She didn't come in and she didn't call, which isn't like her.” Concern was clear in his tone. ”I sent a copy boy over to her house, but no one answered the door. He said her car wasn't in the garage.”
The thud, thud, thud of my heart felt as if it would break my ribs. Cece had possibly been missing for twenty-four hours and no one had noticed. Until now. Even though I knew she was seeing Jimmy Janks last night, I hadn't worried about her. Swept into my own drama and Graf's arms, I hadn't even tried to call her.
Coleman returned as I finished my conversation with Cece's boss.
”If you hear from her, Mr. Truesdale, please call me or Sheriff Peters.”
”What was Cece into?” Truesdale asked. ”I could tell she was chewing on something, but she never discusses her stories. She's got att.i.tude, but she also delivers.”
”Sheriff Peters will explain when he has something to reveal.” I hung up. ”She didn't show up for work today. I don't know if she made it home from Memphis. She could be inside the house, hurt or . . .”
”Don't do that to yourself, Sarah Booth. Her car is gone, and in all likelihood, Cece is fine. When she's on a story, she doesn't think of anything else, but she's resourceful.”
”And courageous,” I added. ”And sometimes lacks good judgment. But she never misses work.” I leaned against one of the front porch pillars because my legs were unsteady. ”She could be bleeding to death in there right this minute.”
Coleman read my deep fear. ”I get the point. Stand back.”
I stepped aside so he could ram the door with his full weight. In high school, Coleman had been a standout football player. He'd gone to college on a scholars.h.i.+p. He knew a thing or two about bodily a.s.sault. It took him three tries, but the wood splintered, and we stepped inside.
At first, nothing appeared to be amiss. Except for the dishes in the kitchen sink. And the clothes tossed carelessly on the still-made bed. Cece was a neatnik, and wherever she'd gone, she'd left in a hurry. I could almost see her, getting ready for her date with Jimmy, rus.h.i.+ng around, leaving the tidying up for later.
But if Jimmy had driven her to Memphis, where was her car?
”Where did Janks take her to dinner?” Coleman asked. He put a restraining hand on my shoulder as I started to the bathroom.
”She didn't say.”
”What did Janks drive?”
”Black SUV. Tahoe, I think.” I'd seen the plates when he drove around the building, but I didn't have a photographic memory to recall such details. ”It had a Mississippi tag,” I said. ”I remember that because he said he was from Mobile.”
”Let me get Dewayne to run a registration.”
Dewayne Dattilo was Coleman's only other deputy, and the two of them had worked nonstop for days. For Coleman to call him in indicated great concern. ”Do you think Cece's in trouble?”
”I think Cece is missing. The more we know, the quicker we can find her.”
He borrowed my cell phone and placed the call to Dewayne. He returned my phone and shut the front door. ”I'll get someone to repair the door. Let's get out of here.”
”I can't just leave and--”
”We're going to Janks's hotel room. If he's there, and if he had anything to do with Cece's disappearance, I'll get it out of him.”
The set of Coleman's jaw and his tone of voice convinced me it would be best to do as he said without a lot of questions.
Downtown Zinnia was a ghost town. Even Millie's was closed, and the two stoplights had been turned off. Each deserted shop front seemed an omen of tragedy as we sped through the town.
”How do you know where Jimmy Janks is staying?” I asked Coleman.
He drove for at least a mile before he answered. ”Beaucoup had suspicions about him. The development deal on the Carlisle land depended on Erin being willing to sell the land for nonagricultural use. Janks seemed pretty sure the deal would go through.”
”Good work on her part.” I tried to sound sincere. It wasn't that I didn't respect Bonnie's intelligence. My problem had to do with the fact that she was a b.i.t.c.h. Much like Coleman's soon-to-be-ex wife. I had no stake in Cole-man's romantic life but, as a friend, I hated to see him hook up with another harpy. ”Coleman, Bonnie is--”
”She's devoted to her job, Sarah Booth.” He cut me off. ”And she's good at it.”
”I never said differently.”
”No, you didn't. And please don't. We're both feeling our way through this. You have your solutions and I have mine. But to answer your question, I made it a point to run down where Janks is staying. Just to keep an eye on him.”
Strictly business. I could handle that. ”And where is Janks staying?”
”At the Gardens Bed and Breakfast.”
”Uh-oh.” The Gardens was one of the most beautiful old homes in the Southeast. Live oaks lined the drive, and the house was surrounded with formal gardens designed and maintained in the style of European royalty.
Another small point--the owner of the B&B hated me.
Coleman chuckled. ”I'll protect you from Gertrude.”
”I don't need protection.” I thought about it. ”Well, I might. She really does hate me.” She'd whacked me on the head--deliberately, in my opinion, though she'd said otherwise--when I was on a previous case. For an old bat, she had a pretty good swing.
”We're on official business. She'll understand.”
”If it gets too rough, I'll call Tinkie. She knows how to keep Gertrude in line.” Mentioning Tinkie's name made me realize that I hadn't checked in on her lately. I remedied that while Coleman drove.
She answered before the first ring could fully sound. ”Where are you, Sarah Booth?”
”What's wrong?” I knew something had happened.
”It's Oscar. He had some kind of seizure and they took the ventilator out. Now he's trying to talk. He said your name. Can you come? He may talk again if he sees you. It's the first sign that . . . he isn't brain-dead.”
The muscles in my neck and shoulders knotted so tightly, I could hardly turn my head. How could I tell Tinkie that Cece was missing and I couldn't come to the hospital because our friend might be in danger?
”Look, I'm on a serious lead right now. I can't leave. I'm . . . surveilling someone. It could be valuable and maybe lead to a clue about Oscar.”
”Where are you?”
”I'll be at the hospital as soon as I can. I promise.”
”I just thought if Oscar saw you, he might come back to us.”