Part 28 (1/2)
”Because she had money?”
”Her family had money, at one time, but according to the New Orleans PD, Mr. and Mrs. Talbert Favier are teetering on the verge of bankruptcy. It's kind of a case of everyone believing everyone else had huge piles of dough stashed somewhere, but the Faviers had invested in real estate and their own business and it was all hit hard during the recession. The only person with any money left is Grandma Favier.”
Blackwater frowned at the flat image of the woman who seemed to be staring up at him from her driver's license photo. ”Do we have any more pictures?”
”Montoya's sending them through e-mail.” Alvarez checked her iPad. ”Oh, here we go. Let me hook this up.” She spent a few seconds connecting her device to a large monitor on the wall and clicked through a series of images of a beautiful woman in her twenties, laughing and mugging for the camera. ”Some of these are from her Facebook account. No activity of course since they disappeared. Nothing on any social media platforms. And here.” She flipped through another series. ”This is the husband, Bruce Calderone.”
They all leaned forward to look at the picture. Calderone was a big man with even teeth and an easy smile. He was dressed in a lab coat.
”And one more. Anne-Marie Calderone's love interest. Troy Ryder.” Another image filled the screen, a man of thirty odd years with tanned skin, crow's feet, and eyes set deep in his skull.
Blackwater looked from Alvarez to Pescoli, who'd let her partner do all the talking. Pescoli's mouth was stubbornly set as if she didn't agree with what was going on.
He glanced back at the picture. ”So, now we've got a love triangle, a robbed grandmother, two missing people from New Orleans, and our two dead victims with the severed fingers dumped here in Grizzly Falls.” He glanced around the table. ”Am I missing anything else?”
”Just one more thing,” Alvarez said. ”There was talk about her being involved at one time with Cade Grayson.”
”Another boyfriend?”
”Long before Ryder. Cade's a person who could be her connection to Grizzly Falls, maybe why she ended up here.”
”That woman really gets around,” Gage observed.
”Two boyfriends, one husband,” Pescoli said. ”Not so much getting around.”
”More like two husbands, one boyfriend,” Gage rejoined. ”She seems to have a little trouble with her marriage vows.”
”Lot of that going around,” Pescoli said.
Blackwater interrupted. ”Someone needs to talk to him. See if Grayson's seen her.”
Alvarez said, ”Already on it.”
”Good. Now, is there anything else?”
Gage shrugged and Alvarez shook her head. Zoller and Winger were both busily taking notes. He focused on Pescoli. ”What do you think, Detective?”
”Fingerprint or no fingerprint, I have trouble believing our doer's a woman.”
Blackwater felt impatient, but whether he liked the rogue detective or not, he grudgingly respected her gut instincts.
”I think it's d.a.m.n convenient that we have her prints, no, make that print, singular. One at each scene,” Pescoli went on. ”Doesn't anyone else find that convenient?”
Gage gave another shrug. ”Maybe odd.”
Blackwater regarded Pescoli for a moment, then said, ”Since we can't find hide nor hair of Mr. or Mrs. Calderone, maybe we should be looking for Ryder. Unless he's hiding, too, and they're all involved in this thing together, which I don't believe, there should be records of him. Credit card receipts and cell phone records?”
”Montoya's already on it,” Alvarez said, reading from her device. ”Looks like he was recently in Denver, but he did buy gas in Casper, Wyoming and Billings, Montana and finally, a few days ago, made a purchase right here in Grizzly Falls at Corky's Gas and Go.”
Blackwater said, ”And I a.s.sume we have a make and model of his vehicle?”
Alvarez glanced up from her computer while Winger broke down and poured herself a cup of coffee. ”We do.”
”Then I suggest you start at the gas station with pictures of Ryder. Take the others as well, just in case he's traveling with either of them, then check the local motels. He probably doesn't think anyone's looking for him, so he might be registered under his own name. Let's bird-dog him.” Blackwater felt a warm spot deep in his gut. Maybe this case would break under his watch, the culprits of a scandalous crime spree that stretched from the deep South to Grizzly Falls brought to justice. ”Don't forget Cade Grayson. The two on the run might be in disguise, so let's work with the computer guys, do some enhancements, Photoshop a little, play with the images.” He grinned at his team. That's right, his team. ”Who knows, the missing Calderones might be hiding in plain sight right under our noses.”
Chapter 25.
Anne-Marie was through being bullied. She jabbed an angry finger straight at Ryder. ”I'm never going back to Louisiana, but I was willing to turn myself in here.”
”Because of Cade Grayson?”
She'd picked up her jeans and was reaching for her sweater but stopped to look at him in surprise.
”I knew about him. And when your coworkers in Denver mentioned you were hooking up with an old boyfriend, he came to mind.”
”What happened between Cade and me was a long time ago.”
”But you came here.”
”I was going to meet with his brother. Dan was the sheriff. Cade had sworn he was fair and would look at all sides of an issue. I knew I had to turn myself in, that I couldn't keep running, but I didn't trust anyone in New Orleans. My father golfs with judges and lawyers and . . . and he thought I'd made a big mistake. That no matter what, I should stick with Bruce. He would rather believe I was lying.” She bristled at that thought, that her own parents had sided with the man who had beaten her.
”So, what made you finally run?” Ryder asked, a tenderness in his voice.
It made her heart soften though she knew it was stupid. He didn't care for her, possibly never had. After the whole bigamy thing, he could never trust or think kindly of her again. Yet there was a note in his words that pierced beneath the s.h.i.+eld she'd built around her heart.
She sat on one arm of the couch and pulled on her jeans. The fire was burning bright and finally casting some heat into the room. ”We'd had one of our cla.s.sic fights. The last one, I'd hoped. It was on the phone and I'd decided, once and for all, it was over. I was strong enough to leave him forever.
”I'd never moved back into the house once you and I . . . well, ever since Las Vegas. I didn't love him. Probably never had. I was done. I wanted out. If I never saw him again, that would have been fine. I knew he'd never forgive me, but I made a major mistake. I still had things at his house where I used to live, and so . . . I knew he was working at his office, so I went back to our townhouse intent on loading up the rest of my things and leaving town.”
She clenched her teeth at the memory, and heard once again in her mind, the downstairs door opening when she'd been on the upper floor in the master bedroom.
She had already stripped out the closet. Her clothes were strewn across the king-sized bed she'd come to hate. Barely able to breathe, she prayed he had just come home for a quick bite, that he hadn't seen her car parked out back.
And then she heard his footsteps on the stairs, his tread swift and determined as he mounted the steps to the second floor. She cowered in the closet, but it was no use. He threw open the bedroom door, looked at the mess on the bed, and zeroed in on the closet. As he opened the door, a shaft of light pierced the messy interior where she was hiding between his suits and s.h.i.+rts.
”What do you think you're doing?” he roared, though her intent was painfully obvious. ”Leaving? Leaving me? You think you can do that? Leave me for some cheap cowboy? Steal away like a common wh.o.r.e in the middle of the night?” His face, the contours of which she'd once found so handsome, twisted in rage. Nostrils flared, skin flushed, cords in his neck p.r.o.nounced, he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her forcibly from the interior of the closet.
She swung at him hard, connected with his ribs, and then saw the hypodermic needle in his free hand. Oh G.o.d, she thought, he knew she'd returned and was ready for her.
She felt the jab of the needle in her arm and, as the room began to swim, saw him pick up the rings she'd put on the nightstand-the engagement ring and wedding band that he'd given her-that she shouldn't have ever let him see again.
”Are you f.u.c.king kidding me? This isn't over until I say it's over.” The diamonds winked in his hand and then he closed his fist around the clear stones. His lips were curled in rage.
Still swinging her arms and flailing wildly, she gratefully pa.s.sed out at that moment.
Anne-Marie shook her head. From that point, she remembered nothing at all until she became groggily aware. It all came back.