Page 28 of Her Last Farewell

"Where?"

"Highway 64. The location is listed simply as ‘near Patterson Bridge’."

Rachel felt a slight tingle at the back of her neck but forced herself to stay objective. She took another sip of the now-cold coffee, grimacing at the taste. "Let’s flag it for a potential follow-up,” she said. “I’d like to get through the entire list before we take off running after shadows.”

"Got it," Novak said, making a note. He continued scrolling through records, the clicking of the keyboard mixing with the ambient sounds of the precinct. The coffee cups sat empty now, ring stains marking the desk where they'd been moved multiple times during their search.

Suddenly, Novak sat up straighter, his posture changing noticeably. "Thomas Eaves. This is different."

Rachel moved to look over his shoulder at the screen, the forgotten remains of her donut still wrapped in a napkin on the desk. She began to read, and within seconds, she was pretty sure Novak had unearthed a bit of gold.

Thomas Eaves had three arrests for possession of illegal firearms – modified hunting rifles, according to the reports. No convictions, but each arrest included detailed notes about his uncooperative behavior with law enforcement. The most recent arrest report noted that Eaves had become increasingly hostile toward authority figures, particularly after his wife's death nearly four years ago. Having read over it all, Rachel looked up, hoping to see Leery. But he was nowhere to be found.

Instead, she spotted a single female police officer walking through the bullpen toward the back of the building—likely to the breakroom. The lapel on her left breast read Jenkins.

"Officer Jenkins?" Rachel called out. The woman paused, coffee cup in hand, steam rising from what was clearly a fresh brew from somewhere better than the break room. "Do you have a minute?"

“Yeah, sure,” she said, doing her best to hide her curiosity and excitement as she approached their desk. She was younger than Rachel had initially thought, probably not more than a few years out of the academy, but there was a sharp intelligence in her face. Rachel hoped her hunch was right and that most of the officers working in Bowery knew the community well.

"What can I help you with?"

"We're looking into someone named Thomas Eaves," Rachel said, watching the officer's reaction carefully. "Does that name mean anything to you?"

Jenkins's eyebrows rose slightly, her free hand unconsciously moving to rest on her utility belt. "Old Tom? Yeah, everybody around here knows about him. Been here his whole life." She took a sip of her coffee, then added, "He’s sort of like a bitof folklore around here. Became a hermit after his wife passed away. He’s supposedly an avid hunter. Maybe too avid, if you know what I mean. Games and Wildlife's had their eye on him for years, but they've never been able to prove he's hunting out of season."

"Does the precinct tend to keep an eye on him?" Novak asked, turning away from the computer screen to give Jenkins his full attention.

Jenkins leaned against the desk, settling in. “Nah. Like I said, he’s what you'd call a shut-in these days. Lives way out in the woods, only comes to town for supplies. Used to be different, back when Marion was alive." She paused, glancing between Rachel and Novak. "That was his wife."

"What happened to her?" Rachel asked. But even as she asked, she thought she already knew. And if she was right…it could be huge.

"Killed herself," Jenkins said, lowering her voice and glancing around as if sharing a secret. "Three or four years ago now. Found her in their bathtub. Tom's the one who found her – he'd been out hunting all day. Hasn't been the same since." She took another sip of coffee, then seemed to remember something. "Come to think of it... his place isn't far from where Carla was found.” Her eyes narrowed as she seemed to understand the implications behind what she’d just shared. Couple miles at most."

Rachel watched the realization spread across Jenkins's face, but the officer quickly shook her head, her ponytail swaying with the movement. "But it couldn't be Tom. I mean, sure, he's odd, but kidnapping women? He barely talks to anyone these days. He rarely comes into town. Keeps to himself."

"Any idea why he'd volunteer at the suicide hotline?" Novak asked,.

Jenkins shrugged, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "I guess it makes sense, in a way. After Marion... well, maybe he's trying to prevent others from going through what he did." She straightened up, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "But listen, I've known Tom since I was a kid. He used to give hunting safety lectures at the high school. He's... he's just a grieving widower."

Rachel exchanged a look with Novak. They both recognized the protective instinct of a small town toward one of its own. But they also both knew that grieving widowers sometimes turned their pain outward in devastating ways. The fact that he was isolated away from the rest of the town only made it all the more suspicious.

"You said he lives in the woods," Rachel said. "Would you happen to have an address?"

Jenkins hesitated, her fingers tightening slightly around her coffee cup. Finally, she nodded toward their computer. "Should be in the system. But I'm telling you, you're barking up the wrong tree with Tom Eaves."

After Jenkins walked away, Rachel and Novak sat in silence for a moment, processing everything they'd learned. Despite Jenkins’ insisting Eaves was not their man, Rachel felt that they'd finally found something solid – the suicide connection through his wife, the isolation, the proximity to where Carla's body was found. It all fit too well to ignore.

"What do you think?" Novak asked quietly.

Rachel stood up, gathering her jacket from the back of her chair. "I think Jenkins might be right about Eaves being changed by his wife's death – just not in the way she thinks. We need to at least look into it."

Novak nodded and began shutting down the computer. "The voluntary isolation would give him privacy. The huntingexperience would explain how he managed to transport Carla's body without leaving obvious traces. And working the hotline..."

"Would give him access to vulnerable women," Rachel finished. "Plus, three illegal weapons charges show he's not as harmless as Jenkins wants to believe." She checked her watch and saw that it wasn’t quite eight yet. Still early enough to pay Thomas Eaves a visit. "Ready to take a drive?"

As they headed for the door, Rachel felt some of her earlier frustration falling away. Sometimes the paper trail and database searches were necessary – they led you to the right doors. Now it was time to start knocking.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

---