Page 30 of Remember Her Name

With another heavy sigh, Noah said, “We’re losing focus here, and the clock is ticking. Since we haven’t had any missing persons cases recently, the kinds of reports we’re looking for are ones where out-of-town friends or relatives have asked for welfare checks on women who live alone and haven’t been heard from in a few days, maybe longer. Employers might also request welfare checks if someone fails to show up for work and doesn’t call.”

“What if this sicko has some other woman and she hasn’t been reported missing yet,” Turner asked.

“We can only work with what we have,” Noah replied. “Until we can figure out where this photo was taken, or unless the ERT or state lab are able to pull fingerprints or DNA samples that match someone in one of the databases, this is what we’ve got.”

Josie said, “The canvasses and line searches near Cold Heart Creek turned up nothing. I prepared a geofence warrant for that area, but since we didn’t get anything from the one at the city park or the abandoned lot, I’m guessing we won’t find anything in the latest geofence results. This guy isn’t giving us much.”

Gretchen’s chair creaked as she turned to her computer. “I’ll check for missing women.”

“We should look at reports of stolen cars as well,” said Noah. “This guy stole Sheila Hampton’s car and used it to abduct Cleo Tate. If he’s taken another woman or plans to then he may have stolen another car.”

“On it,” said Josie, plopping into her chair and booting up her computer.

Noah said, “What about the auto repair shop guy? The one whose prints were found in the Hampton car?”

“Edgar Garcia,” said Turner. “I talked to him. He doesn’t have an alibi. Says he was home sleeping all morning. It’s his day off. He seemed a little shady. Bad attitude. Said what I figured he’d say—he worked on the car a few weeks ago after Sheila hit a deer. That’s why his prints are inside. I asked for consent to search his phone and he shut me down.”

Noah sighed. “I looked at the photos Hummel uploaded. The places where Garcia’s prints were found in the car are exactly where we’d expect to find them given that he worked on the car. It was a few weeks ago, so still reasonable enough that his prints would be found.”

“We need more than that to get search warrants,” Josie said. “Something that points toward him being involved in the crime.”

“That’s a dead end,” said Noah.

Turner stood and joined him at the corkboard. “I was thinking.”

“That’s new,” Gretchen muttered.

Turner caught Josie’s eye. “Maybe Park— Palmer needs a sign.”

Josie ignored him, going back to the stolen car reports for the last week.

Turner continued, “Just about every car has GPS now. They all have infotainment systems we can use to locate a stolen vehicle and even disable it, like with the Hampton car. If this guy wanted us to find his victims, why not just use cars to do it? If he’s smart enough to know how not to leave evidence behind, how to avoid cameras, and all that shit, he has to know we have the capabilities to find pretty much any car he steals.”

Josie glanced over at the corkboard long enough to see the Chief step up behind Turner and Noah. His hawkish eyes raked over the newest polaroid.

Josie said, “He’s trying to make some very specific point with the pictures.”

“That he doesn’t know how to use a camera?” Turner said.

The Chief held up his phone. “I just talked with Kellan Neal. He’s holding a press conference outside the Tate residence in one hour.”

Amber cleared her throat. She’d been so quiet that Josie nearly forgot she was still at her desk. Everyone turned toward her. “Is he making another appeal to the public? To help find this killer?”

The Chief nodded and patted down some of the loose white hairs floating above his forehead. “It’s not a bad idea given how short we are on clues. He’s also gotten several friends, neighbors and old colleagues to put together a reward for information leading to the arrest of the killer.”

Noah said, “It can’t hurt.”

Amber picked up her cell phone. “I’ll call him and make sure we coordinate. Work out all the details.”

Turner said, “Did you ask him about his son-in-law’s alibi?”

One of the Chief’s bushy eyebrows kinked upward. “Yep. He told me Remy Tate ‘checks out.’”

Gretchen laughed. “That’s it? He ‘checks out?’”

“I thought you said this guy was a prosecutor,” Turner said. “He doesn’t know how criminal investigations work?”

“I think he’s counting on us giving him a pass because he was an ADA,” the Chief said. “But that’s not how I run shit, so as soon as the press conference is over, one of you will bring Remy Tate in. I want a recorded interview and written statement from him. Let’s lock him into a story. Ask him for consent to search his phone. If he gives a shit about finding his wife’s killer, he’ll have no problem with it. First thing tomorrow, I want interviews with friends and family members of Remy and Cleo Tate. I don’t care if Kellan Neal thinks they were living happily ever after or that his son-in-law ‘checks out.’ Right now, we’ve got nothing else, so let’s start kicking over every stone in this guy’s life.”

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