Page 13 of Long Gone

I gave her a sympathetic look. “If the sheriff’s department thought Hugo defrauded people out of money, they might be waiting to potentially file charges against him.”

“You mean they may want to arrest him?” she asked in dismay.

“Honestly, I have no idea what they’re thinking, but if people lost money, they may have filed reports. And since the police haven’t found Hugo’s body, they haven’t declared him dead, which means the cases would still be open.” Tears filled her eyes. “Did no one warn you that might be a possibility?”

She shook her head, and a tear slipped out. “No.”

While I found that hard to believe, I didn’t call her on it. “I’m going to set up an interview with the lead detective. Which police department is handling the case?”

“The Lone County Sheriff’s Department. Wolford PD started the investigation when he went missing, but since his office is in Jackson Creek city limits, they tried to take over. There was some squabbling, but the Lone County Sheriff’s Department was ultimately given precedence.”

“Do you happen to remember the name of the detective handling the case?”

Her lips pressed into a tight line. “Matthew Jones. He wasn’t very helpful.”

I made note of his name, debating on asking why he’d been unhelpful, but decided to make my own decisions about the detective. I suspected she found fault with him because he didn’t agree with her conclusion about what had happened to Hugo. “Also, I’m going to need copies of bank statements for at least a couple of years before his disappearance, and statements for six months afterward too. I’ll need them for any bank account with his name on it—personal and business. And I’ll also need anything related to his properties or business deals.”

She wrung her hands in her lap. “I’ve already gathered the bank account information. Mitch told me you’d probably need it.”

That gave me pause. “You just happened to have two years of bank statements available that quickly?”

A wry look crossed her face. “You’re not the first person to have asked for it.”

“And what was the consensus of the person or persons who looked previously?”

She grimaced. “I’d rather you made your own conclusions.”

Just as I’d suspected.

Chapter 4

Clarice went to her home office to get the bank statements. I waited in the sunroom until she returned with a manila folder stuffed with a thick stack of papers. I asked her if Hugo had kept anything in a home office before his disappearance, but she insisted he kept business firmly outside of the house. Something I found difficult to believe. Then again, if he’d been shuffling money to secret bank accounts, he probably wouldn’t have wanted his wife to stumble upon evidence of it. Not that she was looking.

I took the folder and made sure Clarice had my phone number in case she thought of anything else or simply wanted to check on my progress.

Once I was in my car, I looked up the sheriff’s department administrative number and called, asking for Matthew Jones. To my surprise, he was available.

“Detective Jones,” he grunted into the phone when he answered.

“Detective Jones, this is Harper Adams calling on behalf of Clarice Burton. I’m looking into the disappearance of her husband, Hugo Burton. I was wondering if you could find some time to speak with me about the case.”

He was quiet for several seconds, long enough that I started wondering if we’d become disconnected. “Detective Jones?”

He cleared his throat. “Sorry. It took a moment for all of that to sink in. Harper Adams?”

I cringed, grateful this was a phone call so he couldn’t see me. “Yes, do you have a problem talking to me, Detective?” I asked in a brisk tone. Here we go. Someone else who thought I had murdered that boy in Little Rock.

“No,” he said with a little chuckle. “It’s just I don’t think I’ve ever taken a call from someone so infamous.”

I ignored his statement and moved on to the reason for my call. “Do you have time in your schedule to talk about Hugo Burton? His wife hired me to look into his disappearance.”

“Hired? You doin’ P.I. work?”

“Since I’m calling you about a case, I have to say you have very good deductive skills, Detective. I even have a shiny license number to go with it. Now about a meeting…” It occurred to me that perhaps I shouldn’t be so adversarial, but it was my go-to defense mechanism lately. Still, he wasn’t required to take a meeting with me. He didn’t have to tell me anything. I needed to play nice.

But my attitude didn’t seem to bother him.

“Sure,” he said amicably. “What the hell? I’m free this afternoon. Does that work for you?”

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